Japan, Saitama Prefecture.
“I never thought our old warehouse would be put to use again.” Beiye, led inside by the DRG observer, looked around the familiar space with a tinge of emotion.
Sasaki took Long Yin to the rest area, then emerged to scan the room, frowning. “Where’s Mizuki?”
“She said it’s been a long time since she was in Japan, so she wanted to go see some old acquaintances.”
Koji Hattori leaned against the railing, his gaze sweeping over the rest area. “What’s his condition?”
“The Family Head gave him Ghost Qi ability, and it’s affecting his mind a bit. It’d be best to let him rest.”
Sasaki first answered Hattori’s question, then clicked his tongue. “Mizuki Hoshi, that guy… no wonder the Family Head keeps ‘offing’ him.”
With a light leap, he reached the grated walkway on the second floor, then turned into a stream of ink and slipped out through the skylight. “I’ll go drag her back.”
“Is the Family Head always like this?” Beiye, summoned for the first time, asked in a low voice. “I heard the Family Head never hesitates to kill Miss Mizuki.”
Hattori paused briefly, then shook his head with a bitter smile. “The Missy… no, the Family Head—she’s become more and more extreme.”
“Or rather… after she gained the ability to keep us by her side forever, she gradually stopped caring about how we feel.”
“Even though we can revive in the Vision World, the feeling of being killed is still painful.”
“Frightening.”
Beiye shrugged, a hint of nostalgia flickering across his face. “I still remember when I first met the Family Head—she still had a bit of ‘human touch.’ She was quite cute.”
“I often wonder if betraying The Light Extinguishers and choosing to follow the Family Head was the right decision.”
Beiye’s eyes drifted toward the rest area, carrying an unreadable emotion. “It seems like she doesn’t really see us as human… Long Yin, he’s in a lot of pain.”
slap
Beiye stared blankly, touching his slapped cheek, then looked at Hattori.
“Don’t let the Family Head hear those words.” Hattori frowned, his tone stern with warning. “Don’t even think them.”
Beiye was silent for a long moment, then nodded deeply. “You’re right. So then…”
“For now, you stay here and wait for Sasaki and Mizuki Hoshi to return.” Hattori turned and walked toward the warehouse entrance. “I… need to step out for a while.”
“Huh? You too…”
“Yeah, I have someone I need to see.”
Hattori’s steps felt unusually heavy under the massive shadow of the Moon Tower.
He trod the path swallowed by wildly overgrown weeds, his eyes locked onto the out-of-place five-story apartment building.
That was the place where Meko—no, where she was eternally bound.
The apartment’s front door had been destroyed by something. A bad feeling churning inside him, Hattori hurried inside.
Instead of the familiar warmth of home, a coldness even more intense than the Moon Tower rushed at him.
A suffocating, deathly silence gripped his throat.
“Meko?”
His voice echoed through the empty foyer, trembling in a way he didn’t even notice. “Meko, I’m back.”
No answer.
He dashed up the stairs, throwing open door after door.
Living room, bedroom, kitchen… everything remained untouched by time, eerily tidy yet completely empty.
No figure in the black-and-white maid uniform. No call accompanied by a shy smile. No half-transparent presence with a scarred face and gentle eyes.
“Meko—!”
His call turned into a roar, exploding in the silent apartment with a hopeless shriek.
He rushed to the third floor and violently pushed open the door he could never forget—the operating room.
This was where Meko had “left” forever.
The operating room was empty.
The cold instruments and flickering screens had long been removed or corroded by time, leaving only a dust-covered platform and some fixed pipeline interfaces in the floor.
The air still seemed to carry a faint, dust-laden scent of disinfectant.
“No… she’s not here… how…”
Hattori stumbled backward, his back slamming hard into the cold metal doorframe with a dull thud.
The strength that had been holding him up seemed to vanish instantly. He slid down the doorframe into a slump on the cold floor.
Overwhelming despair shattered all his composure and restraint.
He buried his hands deep in his short black hair, his body trembling uncontrollably.
The longing and self-blame he had suppressed for so long, along with the complete failure of his hopes now, burst forth as scalding liquid.
He curled up there like an abandoned child, sobs escaping his throat.
“Meko… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
He muttered incoherently, his voice broken.
Was he apologizing for failing to protect her?
Or for only now returning after all these years?
Or for not being able to see her here now?
Amid his chaotic thoughts, that afternoon from years ago that changed everything violently dragged him back to the blindingly bright surgical light.
The air was cold and tense.
On the operating table lay his beloved wife, Meko—pale and fragile.
The scene shifted to a dead-silent operating room.
That ashen-gray figure—Cuiyue—clung tightly to Meko’s body, still warm but already devoid of life, trembling violently under immense grief.
Ah, yes. She was truly that sad. Meko had often looked after her. Shortly after Cuiyue joined DRG, the two became close friends.
She jerked her head up. That usually cold face was now covered in tears.
Her eyes, full of helplessness and panic, locked onto Hattori. Her voice was hoarse as she cried, “Koji! Koji! What do we do?! Meko… Meko… Don’t just stand there!”
And my tears?
Hattori stood frozen, unable to move even a finger.
What should he do? What could he do?
Then, at the peak of despair—
A soft, hazy glow, like morning mist, slowly drifted out from Meko’s lifeless body.
The light gradually coalesced… into a translucent figure, identical to Meko, floating quietly above the operating table.
The figure first looked down at her own body in confusion, then raised her head, her gaze sweeping over Cuiyue, who was holding her body.
Finally, it landed on Hattori, whose face was written with shock and disbelief.
“Ko… Koji?”
The “Meko” apparition emitted a faint, ethereal voice, tinged with uncertain doubt.
At that moment, everyone in the operating room froze.
A ghost!
wail!
The cold floor of reality yanked Hattori violently back from the memory.
He huddled at the entrance of the empty operating room, hot tears streaming down, splashing onto the dust-covered floor.
He had come back to their “home,” to the place where she had passed, to the place where they first met.
But she was nowhere.
The air in the hospital room once again fell into that silence mixed with the smell of disinfectant and heaviness.
The TV news was still broadcasting the horrors of the distant battlefield.
But for these three high school students who had just brushed death, those grand narratives were far less real than the empty IV bottles in front of them.
Hanyu Suoluo watched Kagegaya Tsubaki, who was curled up on the edge of his bed, brows still furrowed even in sleep, and Kazama Yin, who was leaning against the corner, feigning sleep but always holding his sword hilt. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
Half a lifespan…
He calculated silently in his mind. The life that had once seemed long was suddenly folded in half.
The feeling wasn’t as terrifying as he had imagined, but instead carried a strange sense of relief.
In other words, the more he used this ability, the more worth it became.
Using it once for a hundred years cost fifty, but using it for one year only cost half a year. That was a great deal.
knock knock knock.
Three rhythmic knocks broke the stillness.
Kazama Yin snapped his eyes open. A flash of alertness crossed his pale blue eyes.
Only when he saw who pushed the door open did his tense muscles slowly relax.
“Former Club President?”
It was Watanabe Hitomi.
She was still wearing her beige trench coat, holding a bouquet of dewy lilies and a large fruit basket.
Seeing the trio in the room, the usually cool and capable former club president hesitated for a moment.
“Former Club President, what brings you here?”
Kagegaya Tsubaki rubbed her drowsy eyes and sat up straight. Spotting Watanabe, she instinctively tried to tidy her messy hair.
Watanabe gently placed the flowers and fruit basket on the bedside table. Her gaze lingered for a long time on Hanyu Suoluo’s pale face.
Then, she took a step back and bowed deeply to Hanyu Suoluo, who was lying in bed.
“I’m sorry!”
The apology came so suddenly and with such sincerity that the trio, still half-asleep, was completely stunned.
“Huh? Former Club President?”
Hanyu Suoluo struggled to sit up, but Watanabe pressed his shoulder down.
“It’s all my fault.”
Watanabe lifted her head, her pale red eyes filled with self-blame. “If I hadn’t stopped you at the school gate and chatted with you for a while… you wouldn’t have passed by the apartment building at that time, and you wouldn’t have been caught in that attack.”
“If I hadn’t wasted your time, you might have been home safe by now.”
“It was me… who hurt you.”
Listening to this logical but somehow off-sounding self-blame, the trio exchanged glances, three giant question marks seemingly floating over their heads.
“Um… Former Club President,” Kazama Yin scratched his head, a bit amused and exasperated. “How could you blame yourself? That was a terrorist attack. Even if we’d been a few minutes earlier or later, those bad guys would still have been there.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Kagegaya Tsubaki quickly waved her hand. “And if we hadn’t run into them, that woman—uh, that unknown expert—wouldn’t have had a chance to step in. Maybe the whole neighborhood would have been in trouble! So in a way, you indirectly saved the community!”
“You didn’t hurt us. It’s this chaotic world that hurt us.”
“No, it’s my responsibility.”
Watanabe was unusually stubborn. Once she set her mind on something, it was hard to change. “As the former club president, letting my juniors get seriously injured right under my nose—that’s my failure. And getting dragged into politics…”
Although they didn’t understand what the attack had to do with politics, seeing Watanabe’s serious expression, the trio didn’t dare to argue.
“So, to express my apologies…”
Watanabe pulled a gilded invitation from her trench coat pocket and gently placed it on Hanyu Suoluo’s blanket.
“Next week, Mr. Saori Saiyonji, the leader of the People’s Coalition Party, will hold his grand wedding in Tokyo City.”
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