Chiyoda Ward—
Outside the Prime Minister's Office in Nagatacho, a sea of reporters had gathered. Countless cameras and microphones bristled in the crowd. Though it was called the "Prime Minister's Office," the Japanese Prime Minister typically resided in the nearby official residence. The office itself was a space for Cabinet ministers to conduct business and release major announcements. Adjacent to Kasumigaseki, where the Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters stood, this location buzzed with significance.
At that moment, the government spokesperson and Chief Cabinet Secretary held a solemn press conference.
"...And that concludes the official account of the magnitude 6.4 earthquake in Arakawa Ward on the 17th of this month, and the associated terror attack. The perpetrators were neutralized on the spot."
"The injured have been transported to nearby hospitals and are receiving appropriate treatment."
"We've arrested the remaining members of the terrorist organization."
His words were crisp, confident, and consistent with the official reports.
According to their narrative, the tragedy that occurred in Nishio-Gu, Arakawa Ward, was the result of a natural disaster compounded by human malice. A shallow-source "sinkhole earthquake" struck Arakawa, measuring 6.4 in magnitude. Fortunately, it was a short-lived, isolated quake, sparing surrounding districts from damage.
They emphasized that earthquakes can be triggered by more than just tectonic shifts—volcanic eruptions, terrain collapses, and even meteor impacts can all cause seismic activity. Artificial triggers also exist: underground nuclear detonations, industrial blasts, high-pressure water injections in deep wells, and the filling of massive reservoirs can provoke earthquakes.
These explanations were largely accepted by the journalists—after all, Japan was renowned for its seismic expertise.
During the quake, the Yakuza-affiliated Takao Group not only failed to assist but also looted the area, leading to their classification as terrorists. These so-called "terrorists" had access to automatic rifles, typically unobtainable by civilians. In the clash with law enforcement, they detonated natural gas pipelines, causing dozens of casualties.
Yet even dozens of deaths barely registered. In a world flooded with daily tragedy—quakes killing hundreds, roads collapsing with dozens dead—such numbers failed to shock. Especially when compared to the chaos in the Middle East, where schools and hospitals vanished daily.
In fact, the infamous West Hachi stampede had resulted in over 300 casualties. Just two weeks of mourning later, the place had turned into a tourist hot spot.
"Hello, I'm a reporter from XXX News."
A curly-haired, tan-skinned foreign reporter raised her hand after the Cabinet Secretary's statement.
"Why were reporters barred from the scene? And about those online rumors—"
The Secretary, rather than responding patiently as usual, tidied his papers and exited without a word.
Curiously, reporters from countries usually keen on chaos—America, Canada, the UK—remained silent. No probing questions. They simply accepted the narrative: earthquake plus terror attack, case closed.
——
"Hey, hey, hey. I go out on one mission and all hell breaks loose?"
Back at the Metropolitan Police Department, Iori Ichika slumped onto the sofa, legs propped up on the glass table, flipping on the TV.
The broadcast showed the press conference and included grainy footage of armed men attacking civilians—men in suits, floral shirts, slicked-back hair, and scarred faces, wielding various firearms.
"Aren't those guys from the third department of Anti-Violence?"
The faces were blurred, but their builds were enough for Iori to recognize her colleagues. Even the "civilians" fleeing looked like familiar intelligence agents.
"Well-coordinated, as expected from the government. They know exactly what they want the public to believe—or not believe."
"Chief, these damages were caused by the 'Earthquake Catfish'!"
Standing at attention beside her, arms behind her back, officer Seiko Tōge spoke seriously.
She had been the first to encounter the creature and remembered its features vividly. The brief footage showing massive sinkholes couldn't have been gas explosions!
"Yep, it was that thing."
Iori, still lounging, spoke bluntly about her new subordinate.
"I heard it battled the JSDF in Nishio-Gu, destroying six armored vehicles and causing billions in damages!"
"Damn extraordinary beings..."
Seiko clenched her teeth in frustration.
"Ha, that's the world for you—survival of the fittest."
Patting the seat beside her, Iori gestured:
"Don't just stand. Sit."
"Yes, ma'am."
Seiko obeyed, knees together, hands on her lap, posture perfect.
"You're way too serious," Iori muttered but didn't press the matter.
"Write a report on the 'Mrs. Inoue' experiment. I'll hand it over."
"Understood, Chief!"
——
"A terrorist attack?"
With one hand holding an umbrella and the other browsing his phone, teenager Jun Kishida walked down the hallway, lips curling after reading the news.
All lies.
It wasn't an earthquake or terror—it was a supernatural incident.
The Earthquake Catfish clashed with the modern military. Police and JSDF couldn't stop it. It took a shrine maiden—one with actual magical powers—to subdue it.
Jun knew this because he had been there.
He was a student at Tokyo Metropolitan Koishikawa Secondary School, located in Bunkyo Ward. After sensing the aura of the Killing Stone, he had rushed over and blended with the crowd, witnessing the catfish rampage after the torii gate on its back was destroyed by high explosives.
"That torii gate was its seal?"
Jun felt lucky.
He had once hunted that same creature. Back then, it didn't seem powerful—just a burrower. Its massive size caused destruction, but to someone like Jun, who could control water and move swiftly, it wasn't a serious threat.
He hadn't known that was only its first form.
Once the seal was broken, its second form was terrifying, crushing even JSDF resistance. Though Tokyo's environment limited heavy weapon use.
"Shame."
The creature had many Killing Stones within it. During the earlier hunt, it had spat one out to summon a flaming skeleton.
But now that a shrine maiden had subdued it—and with the police and military showing deference to her—Jun abandoned the idea of collecting the Killing Stones himself.
He sensed no other such stones nearby. Time to expand his hunting range.
"Kishida-kun."
Lost in thought, Jun was halted by a voice.
"Ms. Kuryou?"
The speaker was a young teacher in a tight office skirt.
"Don't walk while on your phone, and—"
Her eyes lingered on Jun's umbrella.
"You can't stay buried in grief forever."
She sympathized with his loss—and secretly admired it. Few these days loved their partners with such intensity.
"You have a bright future, and parents—"
"What's your definition of a successful life, sensei?"
She answered instinctively:
"A life with no regrets."
Oops. Not something a teacher should say.
"Exactly."
Jun nodded.
"That's why I won't regret what I'm doing."
He smiled gently.
"Don't worry, sensei. I won't fall behind in school. See you."
Watching him leave with a medical excuse once again, the young teacher murmured:
"He actually outmaneuvered me... Kuryou, you're such a poor excuse for a teacher."
——
"Hm?"
After circling a few times without finding anything unusual nearby, Wataru Tanimura entered an old apartment block—known as a danchi. These were built during Japan's economic boom to house a flood of rural migrants.
Back then, they represented modern living: electricity, running water, Western-style amenities. They were often romanticized in old adult films featuring lonely housewives and burly plumbers...
Now, decades later, most original residents had aged or moved. Young people preferred shared apartments, and despite government renovation efforts, many danchi buildings stood quiet—almost haunted.
Even a scream wouldn't get attention.
"So that's what it was..."
Exiting the building, Wataru checked his phone and finally pieced things together.
Terrorist attack? No way.
What kind of terrorist could cause such a spectacle in Tokyo?
As an extraordinary being himself, Wataru had once wiped out an entire squad of American soldiers, only for it to be reported as a fog-induced traffic accident.
He assumed this was another supernatural incident.
Speaking of which:
"What is that 'Master' up to...?"
Ever since embedding the Killing Stone into his forehead, that enigmatic figure had vanished. Wataru had tried searching online, but found no trace.
No surprise. Ordinary life went on, bustling as ever. The government had buried the truth neatly—even the casualties were blamed on a gas explosion.
He smirked.
Fine by him. The new supernatural presence seemed highly destructive.
That meant less pressure on him.
Time to eat~~
With that, Wataru followed his nose toward his favorite smell, eventually stopping in front of a diner.
"Welcome—eh?"
"Huh?"
Both the waitress holding the menu and Wataru were stunned.
"—You?!" x2
"What would you like to order?"
"Just your signature dish."
"Got it."
After taking his order to the kitchen, the girl returned and sat opposite him, glancing around cautiously before whispering:
"Is it okay for you to be out like this?"
Their first meeting had been... unconventional—he'd jumped into her home. The second time, he'd fought fiercely to protect her. Either event bordered on criminal.
Her wariness was understandable.
"Why not? You, though—what are you doing here?"
"Working, of course!"
"I enrolled in a prep course. Gonna aim for a good university."
She answered seriously.
"I don't want to burden my parents, so I'm earning my own tuition."
"That's the spirit."
Seeing her so driven, Wataru smiled.
If only Akemi could've...
——
At the Akihara household—
"Earthquake and a terror attack."
"Why couldn't it happen in Minato, Chuo, or Chiyoda?"
Grumbling online, Sora Akihara pouted.
"Even natural disasters avoid the rich?"
"Didn't you forget? Those 'terrorists' ended up near your school."
His brother Yuu replied, lounging on the couch with eyes closed—his attention elsewhere.
Specifically: on Tennyō Aki.