Junko Hanakaze had estimated about twenty-five minutes left—her best guess for reinforcements.
"Considering the real road conditions, it's probably even less," Shokuhou Misaki mused, chin in hand.
"Ten minutes at most, given how I sped here."
Compared to Junko's cautious guess, Shokuhou Misaki was more qualified to speak, having just arrived after a wild ride.
"In that case, guess we'll just have to take care of these two later."
"Shokuhou, could you use your power to make them hide themselves off to the side?"
Makoto had only knocked them out for now. While tying them up was an option, controlling people with Shokuhou's psychic ability was much simpler.
"I can, but… are you really sure about your plan?"
"I get it: you're afraid if you leave, the No. 4 would slaughter your people. You could take your important ones and hide in the Artificial Talent Workshop's lab."
Just now, Shokuhou had gleaned Makoto's plan—and as soon as she understood it, she became even more dissatisfied with how risky it was.
"Even if you evade her for the moment, what then? Your force won't magically get stronger, and even at your own base, you don't have anyone who could actually stand against the No. 4, do you?"
"If you did, you wouldn't be seeking my advice, would you?"
Makoto sighed helplessly.
"Just leave it to me. I'm honestly confident."
"With your support, and these two also helping, I think standing up to an LV5 isn't impossible."
He spun his pistol around his fingers, trying to look relaxed.
"You really… there's no arguing with you."
"Fine, I'll get ready myself."
Shokuhou sighed, then waved her hand, signaling to the black-suited, muscular man in the parked car nearby.
He walked forward, carrying a silvery case, eyes vacant—under mind control—each step measured and automatic.
"What's this?"
"Just a little something fresh out of Artificial Talent Workshop."
"Pair it with this kid, and we might give No. 4 a little surprise."
With a playfully sly smile, Shokuhou looked over at Junko Hanakaze, arranging for the man to open the case and carefully place several unfamiliar devices around Junko.
"This is... really something. If it works, we'll save ourselves a lot of trouble."
...
Screee—
A black van sped down the asphalt, its tachometer needle bottomed out. Out the window, scenery blurred by. The reek of burning rubber filled the cab.
"How much farther, Takitsubo?"
From shotgun, Mugino Shizuri tapped her arm impatiently.
"Almost there—turn left up ahead."
In the back seat, Takitsubo Rikou's keen gaze and throbbing temples spelled her tension.
"Faster."
"Dead or not, if we get there and they're already killed, you're going with them."
The driver, nerve-shredded by Mugino's murderous aura, pleaded,
"This is as fast as the van goes! I'm begging you, I can't make it go any faster!"
With another shriek of rubber, the handbrake engaged, and the van spun several times, only stopping after several dizzying rotations.
Under normal circumstances, this would never be a "pro" driver's maneuver, but the man just wanted—desperately—to get away from these monsters.
"Hmph. This is why we need more support staff. Otherwise, we wouldn't have sent Flanda to recruit that guy in the first place."
With no driver of their own, they'd simply hijacked a delivery van and forced the man at gunpoint—no outside help arriving from the dark side today.
"What now, Mugino?"
Takitsubo swept her eyes around, raised a hand, and pointed.
"The enemy's over there."
That was her power: an LV4 tracker, able to sense and lock onto any AIM diffusion field she'd previously registered—even at distances of two or three kilometers, with the help of special crystals.
Right now, she'd found Junko's AIM signature, and the unfamiliar one beside it had to be the enemy.
After all, Flanda was powerless and gave off no signal.
At this range, it was close enough for Mugino to attack.
A green glow coalesced in Mugino's palm.
"True. Time to give them a little greeting first."