“Dawn Resources Group?”
That was a term that had appeared in the news the year before last.
When the three-year-long Euro-African War finally ended, the Dawn Resources Group, as the instigator of the war, was mentioned by the news anchor.
As the first true superpower war of the new era, the conflict between the old European Union and DRG almost completely tore the Western Hemisphere apart.
There were no winners in this war. Half of Africa literally became hell.
Europe, to this day, is still listed as the most chaotic region in the world.
The Middle East missed its last chance for transformation and development.
If there had to be a winner, it was probably only the steadily developing Pacific Treaty.
Yamanoi Yayoi nodded, a ripple finally appearing in her calm eyes. “Your uncle, Hanyu Yukiki, was completely disillusioned with the old government after the Millennium Incident and left Japan with DRG’s Japan branch.”
“I see…”
Hanyu Suoluo clenched his fists, lowered his head, and pondered for a long time before suddenly looking up. “Then, where can we find DRG now?”
Yamanoi Yayoi was taken aback, a flash of loss in her eyes. “We… we want to know that too.”
*
The twilight in Tokyo Metropolis carried a dim, golden hue unique to a place that had narrowly escaped disaster.
Two or three years had passed since the smoke of the conflict known as the “Asian War” had cleared. The shadow of defeat had briefly shrouded this island nation.
But with Japan formally signing the Pacific Treaty and becoming a member of the Pan-Pacific Defense System, the social machinery had roared back to life.
On both sides of the streets, slogans like “Revival,” “Production,” and “Unity of Millions” were everywhere.
Six months ago, to support the “Dimensional Invasion Defense War” in North America, Japan, as a treaty member, had nearly emptied its coffers to dispatch the Self-Defense Force across the ocean.
Now, those scarred transport planes and weary soldiers had just returned home. The entire society was in a period of exhaustion after the frenzy and a forced, recovering vigor.
On the huge electronic screen in Shinjuku, the latest international news was being broadcast.
“…According to the Pacific Treaty Joint Command, the cleanup operation in the Kandahar region of Afghanistan has made significant progress. Allied engineering troops have excavated the remains of the original GPRI organization’s Crimson Plan site deep underground…”
“The Treaty Organization spokesperson stated they will properly handle these dangerous legacies to prevent…”
“GPRI again.”
Kazama Yin, carrying his backpack with his hands behind his head and a lollipop in his mouth, spoke somewhat indistinctly. “Feels like this terrorist group has been destroyed for many years. How is it still haunting us?”
“Precisely because it’s a ‘ghost,’ it’s hard to eradicate.”
“Alright, alright! Stop talking about those boring political news!”
Kageya Tsubaki, walking at the front, turned around, waving a volunteer service form in her hand, her ponytail drawing a lively arc in the air.
“We still have a mission! If we’re late for the school-arranged Social Care Week, be careful Teacher Endo punishes us by making us clean the toilets again!”
“Yes, Miss Kageya.” Kazama Yin sighed helplessly. “But seriously, why are we going to this particular house? I heard this area is a post-war resettlement zone, and the people living here are all…”
“Are all what?”
Kageya Tsubaki glared at him. “They’re all people who lost family in the war or are facing hardships. As students of Tokiwagi High, shouldn’t we help them? That’s what Miss Imai said!”
“I didn’t say we shouldn’t go…” Kazama Yin shrank his neck.
The three of them passed through the bustling commercial district, and the surrounding scenery gradually became older and more crowded.
Although repaired, the traces of the war from a few years ago were still visible here. Low-rise apartment buildings were densely packed, some walls peeling, and wires intertwined overhead like spider webs.
They stopped in front of a slightly worn-out detached house.
The nameplate read “Amuro.”
“This is the place.”
Kageya Tsubaki adjusted her uniform collar, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell.
“Hello, we are volunteers from Tokiwagi High School. Um… is Miss Amuro at home?”
After a moment, the lock clicked softly, and the door opened.
Appearing before the three of them was a young woman in simple home clothes.
She looked to be in her early twenties, her silver-pink hair casually tied up. Her face was delicate but carried a trace of fatigue that was hard to conceal.
It was the mark left by long-term toil and the heavy pressure of life.
“Ah, students from Tokiwagi.”
Seeing them, the woman showed a gentle yet somewhat strained smile. “Please, come in. The house is a bit messy, please don’t mind.”
“Excuse us!”
The three said in unison, changed their shoes, and entered the house.
The interior furnishings were simple, even somewhat shabby, but kept very tidy.
However, a faint smell of medicine and mildew lingered in the air.
On the cabinet in the living room were two black-and-white memorial photos. A middle-aged couple, looking very kind.
Kazama Yin remembered the information saying the head of this household, the couple, had unfortunately passed away during the turmoil a few years ago. Now, only the daughter and… an older brother remained.
“I’m Amuro Funae.”
Amuro Funae poured them three cups of barley tea, rubbing her hands somewhat awkwardly. “I’m sorry to trouble you to come all this way. Actually, the community supplies are enough…”
“It’s no trouble at all! This is what we should do!”
Kageya Tsubaki quickly said, then took out the school’s prepared care package from her bag. “These are some daily necessities and food vouchers.”
“Thank you, really, thank you so much.” Amuro Funae took the items, her eyes slightly reddening.
“Um… Miss Amuro, I heard from other volunteers that you also have an… older brother?”
Kazama Yin looked around curiously but didn’t see anyone else.
Hearing the word “older brother,” Amuro Funae’s body visibly stiffened.
The light in her eyes dimmed a little.
“Brother is in his room.”
Amuro Funae lowered her head, her voice very soft. “His mental state… isn’t very good, so he doesn’t usually come out to see people.”
“Ah, I’m sorry.” Kazama Yin realized he might have asked something he shouldn’t have.
“It’s okay.”
Amuro Funae smiled bitterly, looking up, a trace of reminiscence in her eyes. “Actually… I used to be very immature. I often bullied my brother, looked down on him, and even… used very harsh words on him.”
“But when Mom and Dad left, when I had nothing… only my brother was still there.”
“Even though he’s… become like this now, he’s still my only family.”
Just as she was speaking, a door at the end of the corridor suddenly let out a soft creak.
Everyone’s gaze turned towards it.
A man walked out of the shadows.
He was holding an empty water cup, seemingly coming out to get water.
Seeing the three unfamiliar students in the living room, the man paused for a moment but didn’t speak. He just silently walked towards the kitchen.
He was a man who looked utterly dejected.
Wearing a loose white T-shirt and loose sweatpants.
His black, broken hair was long, spilling over his shoulders, messy as if it hadn’t been groomed for a long time.
But even so, through the disheveled strands, one could still vaguely make out what should have been a very handsome profile.
The most striking feature was his eyes—golden irises like molten gold.
A color that should have been full of power, but now, those eyes were lifeless, without a trace of light.
The sense of desolation emanating from within made one feel heavy-hearted just by looking at him.
“Brother…” Amuro Funae quickly stood up and walked over to take the water cup from his hand. “Let me do it.”
The man didn’t refuse or respond. He just let go, allowing his sister to busy herself.
He stood there quietly like a soulless puppet, his gaze empty, staring blankly at a point in the air.
“Who is this guy… feels so gloomy.” Kageya Tsubaki leaned close to Kazama Yin’s ear and whispered.
“This must be Miss Amuro’s brother, right?” Kazama Yin also lowered his voice. “Looks like a shut-in.”
“Shh, don’t talk nonsense.” Hanyu Suoluo pushed up his glasses, but his gaze was fixed on the man.
Amuro Funae finished pouring the water and handed it to the man, saying softly, “Brother, these are volunteers from Tokiwagi High School. They came to visit us.”
The man took the water cup, nodded slowly in acknowledgment, as a greeting.
Then, he turned to go back to his room.
Just then, a gust of wind blew through the corridor.
Because the man hadn’t closed his door properly when he came out, the wind pushed open the half-closed door.
Rustle—
The scene inside the room was completely exposed to the three young students.
It wasn’t the imagined scene of a shut-in’s room—full of garbage and stench.
On the contrary, although there were many things in the room, it wasn’t dirty.
Just… too bizarre.
On the walls, where posters or decorative paintings should have been, were densely plastered with all kinds of maps, newspaper clippings, and printed materials.
“That’s…”
Kazama Yin saw a huge map of Africa, with countless locations circled in red pen, dense connecting lines crisscrossing like blood vessels.
Next to it were pasted news clippings with shocking headlines: End of the Euro-African War: The Collapse of the Old EU
Dawn Resources Group (DRG) Claims Responsibility
Central African Scorched Earth: The Vanished Ash-Gray Witch
Post-War Reconstruction Committee List Announced
Besides that, the desk and floor were piled high with books and materials about the brutal Euro-African War from a few years ago.
There were even some things that looked like they were obtained through special channels—satellite photos marked “Confidential,” the kind that would get you killed if they leaked out.
The entire room was like an intelligence analysis room immersed in the shadow of past wars.
The man seemed to notice the wide-open door. His dead, golden pupils flickered slightly.
He quickly walked over, wanting to close the door.
“Please wait!”
Hanyu Suoluo suddenly stood up, his voice somewhat urgent.
The man stopped, turned his head, and looked at him coldly with those emotionless golden eyes.
Being stared at by that gaze, Hanyu Suoluo felt his throat go dry.
But he mustered his courage and pointed to a corner of the room’s wall, where a blurry photo was posted.
The photo showed a faint orange-yellow emblem—the DRG badge.
“You… you’re also following DRG?”
Hanyu Suoluo’s voice carried a hint of hope. “Do you know… where we can find them now?”