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That man had no face.
Like the faceless monsters born from old ghost stories, his head was smooth and featureless, no eyes, no nose, no mouth. A sight so unnatural it made one's skin crawl.
Yet, roughly where his eyes should have been, two crimson crescents glowed faintly under the night sky, their eerie light enough to chill anyone upon first glance.
"---What the fuck!"
Ryoji spat out eloquent C-language.
"What kind of freak is this supposed to be?"
It was too sudden. In the middle of the night, caught off guard like this, if he had panicked and cut the thing down on reflex, wouldn't that have been a waste?
Inside the narrow alley, the faceless man's blank head suddenly split open. A simple smile stretched across it, scarlet crescents tearing all the way up to his ears.
It was like he wore a grotesque mask of endless laughter.
A beat later, both his arms rose skyward.
"Zheng---!"
They weren't hands at all, but two enormous blades.
Faceless. Arms of steel. Not human.
In that instant, Ryoji sensed sharp, undeniable hostility radiating from the creature's body.
Without hesitation, he pushed open the window and dove out like a hunting leopard. His movements carried a wild ferocity, yet his body shifted with the dexterity of an ape.
Silently, he leapt from the second floor, crossed the yard like an arrow loosed from the string, and landed lightly in the alley outside the wall.
The faceless man's reaction lagged half a beat. By the time he realized, Ryoji was already in front of him. He immediately crossed his arms, blades forming into a massive pair of scissors, then lunged with unnatural precision.
"Shuā!"
But his opponent was faster than expected, far faster. In the span of a single breath, the boy's figure blurred, vanishing across more than thirty meters.
It was like blinking once, and the enemy was already in striking distance.
The faceless man's eyes widened, the crescents swelling into vivid crimson moons.
He looked utterly disbelieving.
That speed... it wasn't human. No, it was the speed of a humanoid Devil Beast. His calculation circuits were shattered before they could adjust.
"Rip---!"
Ryoji ducked low, slipping past the scissor-like blades that now seemed sluggish, almost mocking. In the same motion, he closed in, seized both of the faceless man's arms, and, with two tearing snaps, almost simultaneous, the steel limbs ripped clean apart.
"Clang! Clang!"
Ryoji weighed a blade in each hand, tapping the steel together twice.
'The quality didn't feel half bad. Thanks for the delivery, buddy.'
"...!...!"
The faceless man's eyes shook violently, crescents trembling in something close to panic.
'What kind of monster is this?!'
To tear off both arms with raw strength alone, such a feat completely defied human common sense. His programs spiraled into feverish error, combat logic collapsing into chaos.
Instinct screamed at him to run, to retreat, to transmit combat data back to his Master, , but by the time the thought sparked, Ryoji had already slammed him flat against the ground.
"Can you talk?"
Ryoji planted a foot firmly on the automaton's chest, one blade pressing lightly against its throat in mock interrogation.
"...!"
The faceless man looked terrified, but no words emerged. No voice. No language.
"Then you're useless."
Ryoji shook his head, and without hesitation, brought the blade down.
The head severed cleanly. As expected, not a drop of blood spilled. The neck's cross-section gleamed, metal and artificial components.
"This kind of mechanical doll…" Ryoji muttered, crouching down to dismantle the puppet piece by piece. "Could it be that woman's handiwork?"
Fragments of memory stirred at ancient story beats and setting notes long shoved to the back of his mind. He couldn't remember all the details, but the moment "Aozaki Touko" surfaced, the first thing that appeared in his head was her monstrous reputation as a dollmaker.
Aozaki Touko could forge dolls indistinguishable from humans, bodies she used as cursed spare vessels. One "self" could be destroyed, and another would immediately awaken to replace it.
With such a technique, she had brushed hands against pseudo-immortality.
Within the hidden world of Magecraft, her craft was considered miracle-class, ranking among the very highest mysteries humanity had achieved.
If any doll carried such seamless sophistication in combat? Then yes, this mechanical puppet was undoubtedly one of Touko's creations.
Ryoji clicked his tongue.
"What the hell? If you want to kill Little Sister, then go kill Little Sister, why send your junk toys at me?!"
Targeted for no reason at all.
Wait.
A memory struck him. Back at the shop earlier this evening, Touko had asked him if he was a colleague.
Now that he thought about it…
Could it be Aozaki Touko mistook him for a Magus?
Did she believe he might interfere with her attempt to kill Little Sister, so she tested him first? Or perhaps she had even decided to remove him outright before resuming her twisted love-and-hate struggle with Little Sister.
…Or maybe, just maybe, she had taken a liking to him, intending to abduct him home as part of her eccentric collection.
Ridiculous as it sounded, with someone like her, it wasn't impossible.
Never mind that Ryoji wasn't a Magus. Sure, he sometimes wished he could be one, but reality denied it. Even so, Magus or not, he wasn't someone to be trifled with.
"I'll settle this score, a hundred times over if I have to…" Ryoji cursed inwardly, a cold determination burning in his chest.
After all, this woman had her so-called Unlimited Virgin Works. One or two encounters wouldn't trouble her in the slightest.
Resolutely, he finished dismantling the faceless automaton. Before the noise roused any neighbors, he gathered the scattered parts, determined to dispose of them himself before they caused further trouble.
"Oh, right, there was also that metal bird, wasn't there?"
Snapping his gaze toward the earlier location, he found nothing but a heap of broken scrap.
The familiar had self-destructed.
Most likely, once it completed its mission, it had blown itself apart to prevent any trace from leading back to its Master.
"These damn Magi… is teaching your familiars to self-destruct a requirement or something?"
Ryoji muttered with a bitter sigh.
Hoisting the puppet remains, he ran to the nearby river and dumped the junk parts, ensuring no evidence lingered. Fortunately, the entire battle had been brief and relatively quiet; most neighbors still slept soundly, blissfully unaware.
Once the field was cleaned, Ryoji slipped quietly back into his room. His mother and Little Sister were still asleep, completely oblivious to the chaos that had nearly unfolded outside their walls. That alone allowed him to breathe easier.
But now things had grown troublesome.
At the very least, he had confirmed one thing: Aozaki Touko bore ill will toward him.
The problem was finding her. After this failure, she would hardly confront him so openly again.
And if a Magus wanted to hide… then locating her would be nearly impossible.
Ryoji's mind tightened.
Yes, Aozaki Touko may appear in TYPE-MOON works with flashes of humanity, sometimes even painted in a more favorable light. But fiction or not, she was still what she was, a Magus.
And Ryoji had no intention of staking his life on the conscience of a Magus.
He had to act. Swiftly. Decisively.
(End of Chapter)