Second District.
Sitting in Shokuhou Misaki's car, Haramura Makoto gazed at the massive white soundproofing wall.
This district oversaw automobiles and munitions—the most heavy-industry-dense sector—and it also housed the training facilities for security officers and the Judgment Committee, making it one of the city's most tightly classified zones.
"Looks like you don't come here often."
The driver was up front; Makoto and Misaki sat in the back. Despite the car's spaciousness, Misaki sat close enough that a faint, clean fragrance lingered at his nose.
"Not often, no. Aside from when I was little, I've barely set foot here."
He spread his hands in mild resignation.
"Think about it. What self-respecting delinquent boss would loiter where Judgment and the security corps are thickest?"
It was plain to see along the way.
Compared to other districts, the policing here was excessive. Cameras everywhere; security and Judgment patrols passed at tight intervals.
"Hehe."
"I don't think they'd dare give you much trouble even if you did show up."
Misaki covered her lips with a smile.
"But—we've arrived."
After a turn, the car slowed before a massive, trapezoidal complex that filled Makoto's field of vision.
"This is Artificial Talent Workshop—Third Laboratory."
…
A pristine white room, about forty to fifty square meters.
The palette was spartan, but every necessity was in place—table, bed, even a television.
It lacked the warmth of life, but it was a genuine guest suite.
Cross-legged on the bed, Haramura Makoto stared intently at the ring he'd just slipped from his finger.
"If I didn't hallucinate earlier, this should be the way to do it."
With that thought, he slowly closed his eyes.
The moment consciousness slipped, a wry, amused voice poured into his mind.
"Kid, you finally made it in."
Was this a dream?
Another plane?
Or was he a soul adrift?
He stood in a vast, barren expanse—no grass, no stones—just open, scraped earth under a colorless sky.
"To find answers, there's only that."
"The voice just now came from inside, didn't it?"
Not entirely empty, after all.
At the center of a boundary of enclosing walls stood a country-style Japanese house, steeped in rustic character.
He walked toward it without hesitation.
He was not a native of this world, but a transmigrant.
Not a soul-swapped arrival—he had been born here and lived sixteen years, a reincarnate.
At first, he assumed he'd be like the pioneers of the transmigrant crowd—start with a system, march straight to the summit.
Reality had other plans.
He'd been born to an unremarkable family; as a child, he felt no different from the rest.
He hadn't minded. No system? Fine. Maybe his body held the talent—and he'd already found the place that could hone it.
Academy City.
A miraculous, impossible place where superpowers and science somehow intertwined.
He knew this was the starting point—if anywhere—to awaken what he hoped was latent within him.
With his parents' consent, he came.
Reality remained cruel.
Nothing he imagined came to be. Three years of effort yielded no growth; the nascent ability stayed stagnant, and he eventually learned what reality intended for him.
Hence the fall. Hence the boy he had become.
Only now—after evading Mugino Shizuri's killing strike—had the thing he'd waited nearly sixteen years for finally surfaced.
"Kid, the energy's finally stacked high enough. When you've got a moment, empty your mind—don't resist. I'll pull you in."
He slid the door open. Inside lay a genkan and tatami room—just as expected.
The voice was nothing like a cold, robotic system—warm, almost teasing.
Most would hedge; many would rip the ring off and be done with it.
He did not.
He'd long since grown weary of this life. He wanted change—any change—even if it meant risk.
"The innermost room. Come in."
That familiar woman's voice drifted from deeper inside.
He shed the last of his hesitation, walked the corridor, and pulled open the final door.
Snap.
The tatami room's sliding door rattled aside, and his pupils trembled.
Silver hair, golden eyes—and two horn-like points crowning her head. She looked no more than ten. A black kimono trimmed in blue, exquisitely worn, an impossibly cute little girl poised on the tatami.
"You're—"
Something sealed for decades stirred. Memories long buried beat against the surface; the girl seated before him overlapped a long-forgotten image in his mind.
"Ho? Looks like you recognize me, do you now?"
With an odd turn of phrase, the silver-haired loli flicked open a folding fan and covered her lips.
"Well, it's only natural you'd remember."
"After all, I'm the one who brought you out of that curious world."
Snap.
She closed the fan and tapped it lightly against her palm, then rose, arms folding as she stared at him with magnificent poise.
"Then allow me to introduce myself."
"I am the strongest star-spirit, ruler of sun and white night—Byakuya the White Night King."