Haruki Yamauchi is a genius!
Or so he thought.
In fact, after his initial excitement, Yamauchi had recalled scenes from horror movies where removing a seal unleashed a monster.
But he quickly denied that possibility.
The artifact was different from those evil objects that bewitched people's hearts. He hadn't heard any evil voices whispering in his ears. He was sure of it. His desire to take the artifact came purely from his own heart.
For several days in a row, Yamauchi pretended everything was normal. By day, he acted like the usual class clown. By night, he crept into the school's backyard to dig.
Until today.
He was sure today was the last day. He had cleared enough soil to move the stone platform beneath the artifact.
He finally stopped making trouble at school, not out of fear, but out of caution. What if someone blocks me?
He was aware that he had gone too far in the past few days.
From a distance, Kiyotaka Ayanokouji watched Yamauchi's retreating back.
Is today the critical moment?
Ayanokouji sensed something strange. Even if others didn't speak, he could glean a wealth of information from their micro-expressions.
The researchers of the White Room had once called him the "Masterpiece."
An artificial, all-around genius. The most successful creation of that facility.
Unfortunately, even a genius cannot escape the control of his father—Atsuomi Ayanokouji, a powerful figure in Japanese politics.
Geniuses cannot avoid the oppression of power.
What an ironic scene.
Ayanokouji understood his position perfectly. He was a tool—a tool tightly bound by chains held by his father. Naturally, he craved freedom.
So, he let Yamauchi do whatever he wanted. He wanted to see if this anomaly could provide an opening.
But is there… hmm?
Ayanokouji placed a hand over his chest. His expression remained perfectly blank.
Heartbeat… speeding up?
Why?
He had done no physical exercise. He felt no emotional fluctuations. He had no health problems. Therefore, an accelerated heartbeat was an irrational abnormality.
Why?
Ayanokouji had no clue. The only variable was Yamauchi, who was walking toward him.
Yamauchi's face was full of smugness. Perhaps Yamauchi himself didn't notice it, but to Ayanokouji, it was glaringly obvious.
This feeling…
It was primal.
Vaguely, Ayanokouji was reminded of the theoretical danger of being thrown into the wild and encountering a carnivorous beast.
Yes. The suppression of the food chain.
When an herbivore faces a carnivore, their body reacts instinctively.
That kind of instinctive fear in the face of a predator is indeed…
He looked at his arm. The hairs were standing on end. Goosebumps had appeared on his skin.
"Hey! Ayanokouji! What are you still doing here? Come on, I'll treat you today! If you need anything in the future, just ask me, understand?"
Yamauchi spoke with a condescending attitude, expecting Ayanokouji to compliment him.
Ayanokouji obliged. A few simple compliments made Yamauchi look incredibly satisfied.
"You're sensible, Ayanokouji. Let me be your big brother in the future…"
Ayanokouji politely rejected the offer to go with him. He could not stay near a weirdo who felt no different from a hungry beast.
Danger!
Danger!!
As Yamauchi got closer, Ayanokouji's survival instincts screamed warnings in his brain. He walked away at a rare, fast pace.
He turned a corner and stopped to observe.
Could it be that I made a mistake? Is Yamauchi pretending to be a pig to eat the tiger?
No.
As an individual, Yamauchi was trash. That assessment hadn't changed.
But his eyes… they were as deep as a dark pool.
I can't figure it out.
It can't be that Yamauchi went through such a drastic change in just a few days? Unless…
A thought struck him.
Unless Yamauchi came into contact with some biological black technology? Or perhaps… the 'Extraordinary Power' from fantasy stories?
Ayanokouji's eyes widened slightly—a rare crack in his poker face.
His heart seemed to skip a beat.
He turned his head sharply to stare at Yamauchi's retreating figure.
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
So… The Supernatural?
Biological weapons?
Combined with the uncharacteristic behavior of Sae Chabashira, Ayanokouji finally put the pieces together.
At this moment, even Ayanokouji, who was naturally indifferent to emotions, felt a surge of urgency.
It wasn't fear. It was expectation.
It was the expectation of completely breaking free from his shackles and becoming a free man.
So that's it.
So that's it…
He hid in the shadows, regaining his composure.
But now, he had completely set his sights on Haruki Yamauchi.
Naturally, he would not interfere directly. He would stick to his original plan.
I'll just wait to pick the peaches when they fall.
Is it finally about to start?
From the shadows, Seiran Mizunotsuki sighed, genuinely impressed by the sharpness and luck of the "protagonists."
Shinichi Kudo and Kiyotaka Ayanokouji were truly cut from a different cloth than the mediocre masses. Even if they failed in the grand scheme, they were worthy of their titles.
If Ayanokouji hadn't been so sharp, this scene might not have lasted long enough to be interesting. That would have been a loss for Seiran.
Well. I have to thank Ayanokouji for this.
So, let this person be the next unlucky guy… no, lucky guy?
Interesting…
Seiran watched as the figures moved across his vision like pieces on a board.
Some people wanted to be the oriole behind the mantis. Some unknowingly became the mantis stalking the cicada.
They were all excellent leeks to be harvested.
So, I should also come out to play.
I have a new persona prepared. I can't always pretend to be an outsider.
True and false, false and true. Who can tell the difference?
He had planned his identity well. It couldn't be too high-profile, nor too lowly. He had to give those powerful families a chance to use their "sugar-coated bullets" on him, didn't he?
He wasn't greedy. He wasn't picky about lolis, young ladies, or mature women…
It was late at night.
Occasionally, a bird song sounded, quiet and sad. The dark environment seemed unusually lively today.
Haruki Yamauchi slung his backpack over his shoulder. The smell of earth and dirt on his clothes made him frown, but he bore with it.
Just for today.
He believed his disguise was perfect. He was sure no one had noticed anything wrong.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, his blood boiled. The temptation of becoming the elite of the elite made him unable to suppress the heat in his heart.
He stepped out of the hotel.
The cold wind felt refreshing against his feverish skin.
He walked.
Then his legs moved faster.
He was running. He scrambled forward, almost using his hands and feet together.
Even if he was exhausted, even if his throat burned, he couldn't stop his mad rush.
He couldn't wait.
He couldn't wait!
The Artifact… is mine…
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