"All right, get ready."
After waving his hand, Kindo no longer paid attention to the two girls.
The girl who had spoken opened her mouth but said nothing in the end.
Though scared, a strange thrill quietly grew within her, teasing her curiosity.
She decided to stay and watch.
After all, she had joined this club out of curiosity about the occult.
Outside, Rojin watched the group silently, like a ghost observing from the shadows.
If the club members weren't entirely focused on the game, they might have noticed the expressionless face at the window.
"Investigator Rojin."
Just as Rojin considered whether to barge in, two men came running up behind him.
Both were E-class field agents of the Research Institute.
Not all base members spent most of their time in the institute.
In fact, aside from combat units and researchers, most had roles in society.
Rather than saying they were acting for a mission, they performed their civilian roles while maintaining their institute identities.
"Did you bring it?"
Rojin asked in a low voice.
He didn't want to alert anyone.
Actions related to anomalous objects should be silent and discreet.
"Brought it."
The man in a tie quickly raised a briefcase.
Inside were memory-erasing sprays and various gadgets from the institute.
The briefcase, designed by the equipment division, was heavily fortified and had a self-destruct function.
In emergencies, it could be thrown directly.
Tests showed it could blow off most of SCP-096's body.
The equipment division head had once been a top researcher at a university.
"All right, prepare for action."
"Roger."
The agents took positions by the door, took a small sphere from the briefcase, and activated it.
Immediately, a small soundproof field formed around the sphere.
Within this range, sound could not pass outside.
It wasn't that the sound was eliminated, just restricted.
This applied unless the sound contained special power.
Another agent began recording the operation.
For institute members, total casualties were never far-fetched.
Even with high-level combatants, ordinary members' sacrifices were unavoidable.
Recording the mission helped both in reporting and in preventing future squads from repeating mistakes.
"FBI! OPEN UP!!"
With a flying kick, Rojin kicked open the Occult Research Club's door.
The loud crash startled everyone inside.
Especially Kindo, whose hand trembled slightly, letting the paper boat used for the ritual slip.
As it was about to fall onto the candle, a hand suddenly caught it from below.
"Perfect."
Rojin handed the paper boat to the briefcase agent and glared at Kindo.
"We are the Humanity Protection Agency."
"You don't need to know our nature or purpose. I have some questions for you."
For people courting disaster like this, Rojin had no fondness.
If something went wrong, all five in the room could die.
It could even put innocent bystanders at risk.
In Rojin's view, people like this weren't worth being "redeemed."
Once he got the contained object, they could have their memory wiped and just be ordinary people.
He had even suggested more than once that reckless people like this could be used as D-class personnel.
If no one died, it was fine. If someone did, then that person should bear the responsibility.
This somewhat extreme idea was, unsurprisingly, rejected.
"Who are you people?"
Kindo looked at Rojin in horror, his voice trembling as he shouted.
He had a premonition that his dreams were ending before they had even begun.
No superpowers, no path to dominance—nothing would exist anymore.
"Tsk, did you bring the truth serum?"
"Huh?"
The field agent carrying the briefcase froze.
Was this a bit extreme?
Truth serum had a strong effect on the human body, and if the dose was too high, it could leave lingering side effects.
"No? Then hypnosis will do. Just make him tell the truth."
Rojin scratched his head, urging him on.
He didn't want to waste time here.
The sooner it was over, the sooner he could finish work.
"I'll do my best."
Nodding, the agent stepped forward and began negotiating with Kindo.
He hadn't been directly involved with contained objects much, only had a vague understanding.
For this student, he still held a bit of goodwill.
To him, this was just a kid who hadn't matured yet.
It was understandable that he couldn't clearly discern right from wrong.
Rojin, also a high school student, did not share this view.
He believed high school students already had the ability to judge right from wrong.
Excuses like "he's not grown up" or "he's just a kid" were meaningless.
After a minute or two, Kindo confessed everything.
Although the negotiator appeared friendly, Rojin had no such patience or diplomacy.
He watched coldly as Rojin used an A-class memory wipe on an uncooperative boy.
When the boy's head made a muffled thud, his heart quivered slightly.
When Rojin turned toward him with a baseball bat in hand, he could no longer hold back and spilled everything he knew.
"A talking mirror?"
About a week ago, Kindo had picked up a mirror.
It seemed to have some sort of magic, compelling him to bring it home.
He had thought it was just an ordinary mirror, but it began to speak.
The first thing Rojin thought of was the magic mirror from Snow White.
It supposedly knew everything and answered every question.
Kindo's mirror, however, was different.
It only answered some questions, and would admit if it didn't know.
"Is that mirror still at your house?"
"Yes."
Kindo nodded, his fear evident as he looked at Rojin.
For some reason, he sensed a dangerous aura from this person.
A normal person shouldn't be able to detect such things, yet he felt it.
"Take him to the nearest institute base for a checkup, then wipe his memory."
"Understood."
The member responsible for recording nodded and immediately reported the situation.
Upon receiving the news, the institute dispatched a squad to surround Kindo's home.