The next morning.
A black stretch limousine rolled to a stop in front of the boys' dormitory.
The tinted window slid down slowly, revealing none other than Shinguuji Kurono behind the wheel.
"Get in."
"Heh, you're really early, Director. Gotta say, you do things efficiently."
Yawning, Harumura Makoto pulled open the rear passenger door and climbed in.
"Of course. The students are already starting to return today, and in two days the new term begins. If I don't get your identification sorted out quickly, what—am I supposed to let you freeload here for a year, then send you off to the Seven Stars Sword Art Festival?"
Kurono lit a cigarette with practiced ease, then slammed the accelerator. The limousine surged off campus and onto the asphalt road.
"Still, no need to be this early, right? It's only seven in the morning. You think government employees are really that diligent? Tax evasion, clocking in late—that's what they're best at."
Leaning against the open window, watching the scenery go by, Makoto didn't stop his stream of complaints.
"Hah—What, did those people screw you over before or something? All I hear from you is bitterness."
Because of how composed Makoto had acted since the beginning, Kurono often forgot his real age.
She'd always regarded him as an adult.
But his reaction just now—the grumbling of a boy still half asleep—finally made her see him as what he was: a young man.
And she couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"…Yeah, sure, think of it that way. So, we're heading for the Blazers rank evaluation now?"
"That's right. We're going to the League's Japan Branch."
Kurono spun the steering wheel with practiced skill, yanked the handbrake, and the stretch limo drifted into the corner at a ridiculous angle.
"Wait a sec. The Japan Branch isn't exactly close, is it?"
"Obviously. What, you thought I dragged you out this early for fun? A round trip's at least seven to eight hours. By the time we get there, even those tax-thieving layabouts will be at work."
Though Makoto had spoken poorly of them, Kurono's opinion of those people wasn't much better.
The car sped along the highway.
Before long, they'd left the city behind, entering a stretch of road lined with wheat fields on both sides, utterly deserted.
Not only were there no people—there weren't even cars.
For at least ten minutes now, Makoto hadn't seen a single vehicle in either direction.
And right then, the limo began slowing down.
"…What's wrong? Thought time was tight."
Kurono stomped the brakes and pulled the car to a stop at the roadside.
"You're sure you want to undergo the Blazers rank evaluation? This is your last chance. If you decide not to, you can get out here. I won't pursue you."
The words were unexpected.
In that instant, countless possibilities flashed through Makoto's mind.
The most likely? That Kurono had brought him to this deserted stretch specifically to finish him off—far from prying eyes.
After all, he'd read the files.
This woman's Sword Technique, Time-Space Collapse, was classified as a forbidden art.
It absolutely could not be used in crowded areas.
But he hadn't expected her to say something like this.
"Drive. I can guarantee I've got no ties to any other faction."
"…I see."
Kurono gave a low hum of thought, then restarted the engine.
"Last night, I already told those people about you. By rights, they could've listed you as a wanted criminal on the spot. But when they checked their database, they found no record of you. And with both Nene and me standing as guarantors for you…
They agreed to give approval.
However—all of your data must be recorded in the League's system. The real data. Your maximum strength, no holding back. You want to hide your abilities? Fine, that's your business. But if you later reveal power in public that wasn't in the test, you'll immediately be branded a criminal. Understand?"
"…I see. Pretty generous of them, huh."
Makoto arched a brow, the corner of his lips curling upward.
As expected, his guess had been right.
From the moment he learned that one of the three great factions of this world included a literal underground organization, he had grown more confident in convincing Kurono.
It was the same logic as Academy City's espers.
Blazers weren't numerous here. In fact, they were rare.
Because of that, each faction naturally tried to recruit as many as possible.
Reject a Blazer? Then that Blazer might just join the enemy.
And what was the easiest faction to join?
Of course—Rebellion, made up of criminals and outcasts.
They didn't care about nationality, rank, or past. As long as you wanted in, you could join.
With such a faction around, both the League and the Union had no choice but to be lenient with their own Blazers.
Otherwise, they'd be handing them all over without a fight.
Especially someone like him—someone whose rank could reach A.
No faction would let go of talent like that.
That was why he'd been so sure Kurono would help him.
Because it wasn't difficult at all, really.
"…Tch. Smart brat. You'd better be as good as you say. Don't drag Nene and me into trouble."
Kurono clicked her tongue, glaring through the rearview mirror.
But when she caught sight of Makoto's faintly upturned lips, she knew.
He had anticipated all of this. Probably even before he came to her yesterday, he'd already worked through every scenario.
A guy that sharp wouldn't gamble blindly.
He'd only acted because he was nearly certain of success.
"I'll give it my all. I want to see for myself just how far I can go right now. And when I return, I'll thank Yaksha-hime properly for her help too."