"Didn't expect it to go this smoothly."
"But seriously—how did you dodge that last attack? I was terrified."
The grappling-line retracted with a whirr as Haramura Makoto wrapped an arm around Shokuhou Misaki's waist and dropped from above.
"Ah, that? Simple."
"In a fight, the environment is part of the plan. That's basic."
Makoto pointed behind Mugino Shizuri. Misaki followed his finger to a manhole cover pried open.
"Long story short—Mugino thought she'd driven me there, but I chose that spot."
"From the start I knew I could evade her standard beams."
"But that lattice barrage? No way to avoid it cleanly."
"So I positioned myself there, threw prepped charges to flood the field with smoke, made her think I was out of options and that the bombs were a last-ditch flail."
"Which got her to relax."
Makoto yawned, stepped up to Mugino, and lifted her hair to check her condition.
"Fully under?"
"Of course."
Misaki looked pleased, then immediately winced.
"And this is why I hate dealing with electromasters."
"Even after we chemically suppressed her neural output and body functions, getting through her electromagnetic barrier nearly fried my brain."
"My temples are still throbbing."
Shokuhou Misaki's power was Mental Out—controlling water content to modulate the target's neurochemistry, blood, even cerebrospinal ratios. That was exactly why espers who ran live currents through their bodies countered her so hard. It was also why she had asked Makoto to disengage at first. Against low-tier electromasters she could cope, but the Third or the Fourth—born counters to her—were a different matter. Short of rallying a dozen separate Level 4s, trading with either was a losing game.
"But it was worth it, wasn't it?"
"At least now you're holding a trump card like never before. Whatever you plan next, you've got far better odds."
Misaki came forward with a bright smile.
"The aftermath will be a pain, though. She's an LV5, and a dark-side operative."
"Keeping her under me won't be easy."
"But the payoff exceeds the cost, right?"
Makoto dropped Mugino onto the asphalt without ceremony—no affection whatsoever. He rarely disliked anyone enough to dip into the negatives, but Mugino had managed it. A raging maniac just wasn't his type.
"Fine, I'll let you off this time."
"But if you pull a stunt this dangerous again, I won't forgive you. Got it?"
Misaki shot him a glare. If only he could have seen the "brilliant idea" he'd proposed at the start: keep the pressure high, drive Mugino into mental overload, stall her electromastery for a heartbeat, and in that instant Misaki would seize control. It only worked because Mugino's control—unlike the Third's—wasn't refined enough to maintain a constant electromagnetic veil. Even so, the risk had been suffocating. Misaki had no intention of losing this man.
Thankfully, she'd come prepared—new Artificial Talent Workshop toys: button-sized microcharges and a bio-signal blocker fluid. Hence the revised plan: play an information deficit. Mugino didn't know Misaki was there. Misaki would drive Junko as a puppet and hand her the blocker. The instant Mugino thought she'd killed Makoto and dropped her guard, Junko would inject the blocker. From there, the win was theirs. Once the blocker hit, Mugino's computation capacity plummeted—Flanda's missile tosses afterward were just garnish.
"Understood."
"But first, we should clear out."
Makoto waved a hand helplessly.
"I still need to calm that little one down."
The big problem was mostly solved; the small ones remained—Leo's damaged base, and Freyja, who had already woken once only to be knocked out by Misaki again. Both needed attention.
"True."
Misaki sighed.
"Since you called me on short notice, half my prep was rushed anyway. I've got a lot to handle myself."
"If that little sister has issues, why not come to my side first? I can help untangle things."
"Me? Allowed?"
Makoto tilted his head. He knew only a little, but he'd heard enough about Artificial Talent Workshop to guess its importance ranked near the top of Academy City.
"Of course."
"And are you teasing me?"
Misaki puffed her cheeks adorably.
"No, no. Let's head out now."
"Before this drags on. I'm worried she'll wake up—best to lock her down and do a total cognitive rewrite."
"Next time won't be this easy."
Makoto shrugged, lifted his right hand, gaze falling to his index finger. A strange light flickered in his eyes.
"Besides, there's something I'm dying to confirm."
"Mmm—"
Seeing his expression, Misaki's already good mood soared higher. She stepped in, firmly took his arm, lifted her remote, and clicked.
"Let's go back."
"And wouldn't you know it—my interest in properly breaking in an LV5 has never been higher."