Toaru Majutsu no Kinsho Mokuroku SS - Volume 1 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

A Drunken Mother’s Circumstances

The_Two_Leading_Roles. 

1 

In Academy City, one could describe ten PM as relatively late. 

After all, the last trains and buses here lined up with the final school closing time. Many stores closed at the same time as well, so it always started to feel like only stores geared toward adults were open at this point in the day. 

Anti-Skill, the city’s peacekeeping force of teachers-slash-police officers, patrolled the streets, so unless you were going out with the expectation of being guided to your destination, regular students would be staying in their dorms. 

On the other hand, the delinquents were condensed into this time period of Academy City. If a normal student was to go out without taking proper care, they would easily get wrapped up in some “minor trouble.” 

And through this night echoed the clapping sound of a crutch. 

It was Accelerator. 

Great… Thanks to my “overtime,” it’s gotten real late… 

He wouldn’t be returning to Aiho Yomikawa’s apartment. 

He also wasn’t going back to a dormitory of Nagatenjouki Academy, despite being a registered student, on paper. 

Instead, he was headed for a building called by the code name nap room among Group. 

Still, it wasn’t exactly a rule that Group had. Motoharu Tsuchimikado went to a normal high school and lived in a student dorm, while Awaki Musujime was apparently freeloading at a nosy female teacher’s place. Accelerator didn’t hear much about Mitsuki Unabara, but he’d heard he’d put together a place for himself on his own. It seemed they generally had the freedom to be out and about, just as long as they didn’t make too much of a commotion on the front stage. The higher-ups had never come to Group to complain about their living arrangements. 

It didn’t matter to Accelerator what the other members were doing or where, and they probably felt the same way toward him. If he was being brutally honest, as long as it didn’t negatively affect him at all, it would be no skin off his back if the organization called Group was destroyed right this moment. 

That certainly would make things simpler, Accelerator admitted to himself. 

The times of awkwardly making friends to change things for the better were at an end. 

“Ugh. Guess I’ll stop by a convenience store and grab a coffee or something…” 

The can he was currently drinking from was nearly empty. Deciding he’d replace it with a new one, Accelerator slightly altered his course. And then, as he let the fluorescent lights creating Academy City’s motley nightscape guide him toward the convenience store on the first floor of a nearby multipurpose building— 

“Uh, unh…” 

—he suddenly heard what sounded like sleep talk from right next to him. 

But there couldn’t have been anyone there. After all, it was just a red mailbox. Nothing but a metallic mailbox, which he doubted really served any purpose in this age of e-mail. It certainly wasn’t a bed. 

And yet. 

“Uh, urgh… I feel sick…” 

A strange, drunken woman lay there, rubbing her cheek against the mailbox’s pillar, cradling it with both hands like a body pillow. 

She was probably around college age or so. She wore a simple button-down shirt and slim black slacks…but they were probably somewhat expensive brands. Plus, a small handbag had been dropped a short distance away, which appeared to have had nothing in it but a wallet. Her entire body was almost threatening “Try something if you dare.” She seemed so helpless, it probably made would-be attackers hesitate instead. 

Deciding to get himself to the store, Accelerator started to pass her by. 

Hmm? Wait, her face—have I seen it somewhere before…? 

Accelerator stopped in his tracks. 

He checked the drunk college student’s face again. Brown shoulder-length hair and a face with pretty features. Her eyes were closed, but he could easily imagine they’d be brimming with energy. Her height and proportions could not be more different, but in them, oddly, he still glimpsed that girl. 

It couldn’t have been Last Order’s family. 

Nobody like this existed among the clone espers, either. 

…Who is she? Is it just coincidence they look so similar…? 

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Accelerator went up for a closer look at the woman’s face. 

“Ahhh… Hello, hello, Misuzu Misaka here…” 

Suddenly the drunk woman’s eyes blinked open, and then her arms were around Accelerator. Her movements were sluggish, but Accelerator was also on a crutch. 

They both fell to the dirty road. 

The woman, who was holding him by the waist, didn’t seem the least bit concerned about how her body was clinging to his. 

“My hobby is studying number theory, my talent is swimming, and my bust is ninety-one centimeters… Wait, I can’t. I just remembered I’m married. I’d feel bad for my hubby, so quit touching me like we’re buddies!” 

After saying that, she pushed Accelerator away, then plopped down into a sitting position a few steps away. For a moment, he had the impulse to pump a lead bullet into her head. 

“Wait… Where’s the Dangai University database center again? You, the boy who’s all white. You have any idea?” 

The drunk woman, however, was at this point unstoppable. 

It could have been the General Board chairperson or the president of the United States; she’d blather on drunkenly at this point to anyone. 

This… This is so dumb, it’s gonna ruin my reputation… I should get to the store, buy a coffee, and go home. Who cares about this woman? 

Accelerator, using his crutch for support, slowly stood up. After patting the dirt off his pants with his other hand, he sighed, then began to step away. 

“Hey, wait, don’t be so mean. Stop freaking ignoring me, you colorless runt…” 

She latched on to his ankles. 

With a loud grunt, Accelerator fell over again. 

The strange drunk woman began to climb on top of him. “Look, I’m a bisexual-disaster cougar, let me kiss you…” 

“You’ve been spouting nonsense this entire time!!” Accelerator shouted reflexively, then realized his mistake. 

He looked at the drunk woman’s face; now that she finally had someone to talk to, she had a positively awful smile. 

“I just wanted to know, where’s the Dangai University database center again? Misuzu, you see, she needs to go and study there now. Because she’s got reports to do. Belch.” 

Accelerator managed to hold back the wave of anger about to escape him in the form of God, you reek!! “I don’t fucking know! Go get a taxi or something!!” 

“Ah. How do I get a taxi again?” 

Right on time, fortunately, a taxi passed by. Accelerator, still on the ground and mostly pinned there, got a hand up to wave the vehicle down. 

The taxi came to a smooth stop, and for some reason, the older man in the driver’s seat burst out of it. 

“Are…are you all right?! Is this a crime in progress?!” 

“Anyone else bothers me today, and I’ll kill every last one of you…,” muttered Accelerator in a low voice, shoving the drunk woman leaning against him to the side. 

Ignoring the strange woman as she said “Wait, hey, the taxi…,” he shouted to the driver, “You’re on your own now!!” and this time, for real, started walking away. He didn’t care about the convenience store or getting another can of coffee anymore. For now, he just wanted to get away from that drunk as soon as possible. 

Even Academy City’s strongest esper was human, bound to have at least one thing he couldn’t handle. 

2 

“Well, that’s why I’m saying I think even croquettes should be part of hot pot,” explained Touma Kamijou to Index, who walked next to him. 

They’d left the sukiyaki restaurant, parted ways with his classmates, and were now going back to the dorm. They’d stopped at a convenience store on the way back, so the other boys living in the same dorm were gone, too—of course, he couldn’t have anyone knowing Index was living with him, so he had needed to stagger their arrival time somehow. 

“You, like, put a portable stove on the table, then put a pot with oil on it, then put the pre-breaded ingredients into the oil ahead of time. Wouldn’t that taste the best? It would take some time, but you can eat your other add-ins while you wait. Then you’d have ready-fried croquettes waiting for you.” 

“But I think all foods taste best right when they’re finished.” 

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” 

“What?! Wait, in that case, wouldn’t food taste best if you made it in front of me, and then I ate it all?! This… This is a major discovery, Touma!!” 

“Give me a break!! I wouldn’t get to eat a single bite of it then!!” 

Kamijou made the argument anyone would make, but all Index (and the calico) did was sulk, complaining (and meowing) about how good the plan was. 

He wasn’t feeling like cooking, so he decided on an extremely irresponsible counterattack of just eating frozen food for breakfast tomorrow. But then, he suddenly spotted a taxi in their path, parked on the side of the road. Its yellow blinkers were flashing, the back door was wide open, and for some reason, the upper half of a woman who looked college age was hanging out of it. 

The woman was smooshed onto the road, face-first, and a middle-aged man who appeared to be the driver was arguing with her. 

“Ma’am, we can’t move if you keep the door open like that.” 

“What’d you say to me? Are you challenging the all-Japan half-open-door alliance, damn it?!” 

“Yes, yes, well, I’m sure you’re the only member of that particular alliance. I’m getting tired of listening to you, so please, get in your seat already.” 

“What was that?! Now I’m gonna be stubborn and not get back in. Heh-heh.” 

Kamijou heard a completely nonsensical conversation between the driver and the woman. 

Yikes, what an awful customer!! 

Kamijou debated changing their route. That person wasn’t the type who enjoyed conversation; this was the type who enjoyed attention, regardless of who or how. In the unlikely event that Kamijou ended up getting involved, that would without a doubt wrap him up in one troublesome incident after another—all the way until morning came and the woman sobered up. 

If there was any kind of person Kamijou, who was already drowning in rotten luck on a daily basis, wanted to stay away from, it was her. 

“Hmm?” 

The drunk woman’s head flopped over to look his way. Her lower body was still in the taxi, and her upper body was still stuck to the ground. 

“Ahhh, ahhh! You’re Kamijou, right? Kamijou!!” 

Kamijou’s shoulders lurched in surprise. How did she know his name?! He looked at her again and realized it was Misuzu Misaka, a woman he’d met during the Daihasei Festival. The mother of Mikoto, that sparky middle school student. 

“…Well, I guess if it’s her family, I’m not surprised about this.” 

The comment was rude to everyone involved, but when Misuzu heard it, she simply flashed a slack grin. “Wow, the Earth’s gravity sure is crazy, huh?” 

“What?” 

“Feels like Miss Misuzu doesn’t need anything else. She’s going to sleep now, so good night, mnn.” 

Kamijou heard what honestly sounded like a snore, so he wondered if he should wake her up. 

But before he could, Misuzu’s eyes shot open. “Whoa, wait. Didn’t stretch or even rub on any lotion! Damn, stop puttin’ in the effort, and your skin’ll feel it, huh? After all, I’m mothering an only child!! Urgh—I think I’m gonna be sick?!” 

Kamijou swore to himself he’d never give Mikoto any alcohol. 

Besides, minors were forbidden from imbibing by law. 

Meanwhile, the taxi driver looked at him with eyes sparkling like diamonds that seemed to say “I’m… I’m saved! The drunk’s guardian has finally shown up!!” but Kamijou couldn’t accept that. 

Misuzu, for her part, seemed to have shifted her attention from the driver to himself. She remained in her current position, lower half sticking in the car and upper half lying on the road. 

“Hff, hff. I can’t…can’t stand…” 

She seemed to be trying to get up, but she wasn’t moving any of the right muscles—actually, she looked just like a fur seal at the aquarium. 

I don’t want to get close, but can I leave her…? thought Kamijou, carelessly moving to her side. And that was when Misuzu latched on to him with all her might. 

“Awright!! I caught a younger boy!!” 

“Gwaaahhh?!” 

The squeezing might have made his heart skip a beat, but Misuzu didn’t seem like she was the type to skip regular exercise; instead, he heard an odd cracking noise coming from near his spine. 

“What are you doing out so late? What happened to my little Mikoto anyway? Belch.” 

“Guah! A breath attack?!” 

“Huhhh? Isn’t a mom sexy when she smells like alcohol and her eyes are all drowsy?” 

“None of those are a plus!! H-help me, Index!!” 

Kamijou immediately requested assistance, but Index just stared at him with incredibly cold eyes for some reason, not bothering to lend him any help at all. The calico in her arms, unable to cope—for once—with the stench of alcohol, was struggling. 

Misuzu gazed at Index with vapid eyes. “By the way, who was she again? Introduction, pweez!” 

“H-hmph. I don’t have any name to give to someone like you.” 

“What’d you say, punk?! Introduce yourself this instant or my fingers are going up your nose!!” 

“Waaah! Index! My name’s Index!” 

And thus, even Index, second to none in throwing her weight about, found herself unable to resist the Misuzu typhoon currently tossing her around. 

“Hey, where’s the Dangai University database center again?” 

“What?” 

“You know! The database facility where they gather all that programming-related information, like AI and arithmetic software and stuff.” 

“N-no, I wasn’t asking for an explanation of the database center. Um, Dangai University? I think it’s…” 

“Oh, right, want to trade numbers and e-mails?” 

“That was sudden!” 

“I bet you already did with my cute Mikoto. Let me be part of the group, too! Anyway, here’s my e-mail…” 

Misuzu rattled off a series of letters and numbers. The e-mail address that Mikoto had only obtained through copious sweat and tears and a grand plan to upgrade her phone had just been seized by her mother in a mere three minutes. 

“Okay, got it. I’ll tag your info as Friend.” 

“…This is all starting to feel a lot like talking to Orsola…,” said Kamijou, his exhaustion having maxed out. He peeled off Misuzu, who was still clinging to him with Herculean strength. “Anyway, what’s Misaka’s mom doing in a place like this? I thought you couldn’t get into Academy City without permission.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Miss Misuzu is a university student, and she needs to submit a report. But they said I could only get the stuff for it from Academy City, so I had no choice but to come here.” 

“So that’s why the database center… Well, I doubt there’s AI-type databanks anywhere but Academy City,” said Kamijou, sighing to himself. The taxi driver seemed to want to flee right at that moment, but Kamijou pinned him in place with a glare. 

“I thought I’d say hi to Mikoto on my way there… But apparently the girls’ dorms at Tokiwadai are super-strict, and they wouldn’t let me in. I’m her mother, for cryin’ out loud!” 

“…I mean, name-dropping yourself as a parent of a student there isn’t going to help when you’re drunk and smell like booze. Nobody would believe you. And you don’t look at all like a mother to begin with.” 

“Oh—why, you. You’re pretty smooth. But no, that’s not it. Miss Misuzu is actually trying pretty hard. She swims around in an indoor pool every week and puts moisturizing cream all over her when she gets out of the bath. If I get even a little lazy, the changes will happen right away. Gah, I hate how teenagers can be so bursting with vitality without having to do anything!!” 

Misuzu flailed her arms, but because of the alcohol, her footing seemed unstable. Taking advantage of the opening that had given him, Kamijou grabbed the taxi driver, who was secretly trying to sneak away again, and had him help push Misuzu into the backseat of the car. 

“Hey, you! I’m not finished talking yet!!” 

“All right, all right. We can leave it for later. For when you’ve done something about all the booze circulating through you.” 

“Damn it, a little kid just scolded me!!” 

Misuzu looked withered, but Kamijou waved a hand as the taxi driver started the car reluctantly, his face betraying his concern as to whether she’d actually pay him for the ride. As Kamijou listened to the vrrmmm of the muffler as they drove off, he exhaled slightly. 

“Anyway.” 

Suddenly, Kamijou felt a presence behind him, one he could sense was out for blood, and he shuddered in spite of himself. 

The source went without saying—the sister holding the calico. 

“…How am I going to get through this little problem…?” 

3 

Kamijou, who had, in the end, been bitten right in the head, rubbed the injury as he unlocked the door to his dorm. 

“Mm… Starting to feel a little chilly now that we’re back,” he said, grabbing the remote control for the room’s lights and air conditioner, flicking a switch. Watching Index run to the TV out of the corner of his eye, Kamijou headed for the bathroom. There, he used a panel next to the bathtub to turn on its automatic water heater. Today was the cat’s bath day, too, so he put out a washbowl. 

Man, eating out sure is nice. No dishes to do. 

Stretching his arms out and yawning, Kamijou left the bathroom. His stomach was full. Now, he just had to soak in the bath at his leisure, brush his teeth, and go straight to bed. Absolute heaven. He hadn’t expected all this to happen today, and his heart was about to be won over by the temptation to eat out more often… Unfortunately, as far as he could tell from the household accounting he conscientiously kept up-to-date on his budgeting app, eating out that much would, at around the midpoint of the month or a little later, put them in a situation where they would only be able to afford water and salt. 

Wait, how much did the hot pot tonight set me back? wondered Kamijou, ever fainthearted about these things, immediately pressing some buttons on his phone with his thumb. Just then, his ringtone went off. 

He changed the display. It flashed Mikoto Misaka’s phone number. 

Kamijou pressed the Call button. “??? You need something, Misaka?” 

“First, tell me if you’re gonna answer my text anytime soon!” 

Text? wondered Kamijou. “Hmm… Now that you mention it, I think I did see that earlier.” 

“?! How…how dare you just pass it off like that—” 

Mikoto was about to shout more, but then her voice grew distant, and then the call suddenly ended. Kamijou looked at his phone screen, but his reception seemed fine. 

…Maybe something on her end? he thought offhandedly, switching back to his household budgeting app. 

Taking a seat in front of the glass table in the middle of the room, he said, “Index, don’t sit so close to the TV.” 

“But… But the Intelligence-Booster S.F. Health Quiz is about to get to the good part!!” 

“…I feel like there’s more of these quiz shows linking science and stuff to your brain lately.” 

Well, some of the stuff is taught in Academy City classes at least, he thought idly, looking over at the calico, who was faceup enjoying the heat emanating from the air conditioner, clearly uninterested in the quiz show. 

“Hmm. Nothing to do, so maybe I’ll wash you first,” Kamijou mumbled, taking out a bottle of animal shampoo and a small sponge cut in the shape of a cat’s face. The calico, figuring it out, beat a swift retreat into the kitchen as if to say, “I hate all those bubbles and hot water!!” He was probably hiding between the fridge and the cabinets, trembling. 

Thinking he’d have to be extra thorough since the cat had just gotten even dustier, Kamijou got to his feet, an act that required effort. 

“Hmm?” 

His phone vibrated. 

This time, it wasn’t Mikoto. 

Instead, on the small screen was a number he’d just put in his phone. 

4 

Misaka. 

That had definitely been what the drunk woman collapsed in a heap on the road had said. 

…Coincidence? Can’t be, Accelerator thought idly as he walked down a dark road with his crutch. 

Mikoto Misaka was the one who had provided Last Order’s genetic code…but that woman hadn’t been her. An older sister or something? Her presence in Academy City meant she might have been some kind of esper, but Accelerator didn’t remember having heard any intel like that. Of course, he wasn’t very interested in others to begin with, so he didn’t know many details about other espers. 

Still, one thing struck him as odd. 

Her clothes. Ermo, Az, Scale, Russiv—and her perfume was a new Zero Plus product… Wait, wasn’t that aimed at teens? Anyway, she was covered in brand-name shit from head to toe. But what bothers me is that they’re all companies from outside Academy City—not a single one of them are from the inside. 

If she’d liked a specific brand, it was feasible she’d order an outfit from the outside…but that woman’s clothes were all different brands. Her shirt, her slacks, her belt, her shoes, her handbag—she’d simply chosen what she liked. Didn’t seem like she had an attachment to one single brand. 

And in that case, she might as well have had at least one internal Academy City item. 

But she didn’t have any. And yet here she was. 

Which means she could have come from the outside. 

Accelerator thought it over, purposely choosing an even more deserted path than the already-unpopulated Academy City night roads. 

Why’s she here, then? She mentioned having business at the Dangai University database center, but who would allow that kind of access when we’re preparing for a war that’s about to start? Guests from outside the city go without saying—they’re even turning support organizations like goods transporters away at the gates. Or does the woman have a different reason? 

A reason. 

One for a Misaka family member to come here during these times. 

It might have had something to do with Mikoto Misaka, the original. Or perhaps… 

…It’s linked to the kid. 

Accelerator tsked, fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

He opened his contact list, highlighted the entry labeled simply CONTACT 3, and pushed the Call button. 

The number belonged to another member of Group: Motoharu Tsuchimikado. 

Accelerator put the phone to his ear, and the call connected immediately without ringing. 

“Accelerator. Did you need something?” 

The polite voice that came back was a male’s. But when Accelerator heard it, his eyes widened slightly. This voice didn’t belong to Motoharu Tsuchimikado; he certainly wouldn’t talk so courteously. 

Someone intercepted the call, thought Accelerator. “What, is this a hobby of yours? Are you one of Group’s bosses?” 

“I would like to hear the nature of your question.” 

“Tsk… Nothing I want to ask the likes of you. I’ll handle my own business. Drop that stupid guardianship act of yours, or I’ll rip you apart.” 

“Private business, then? Well, that is a shame. I actually had a matter I’d like to discuss with you, if you have the time.” 

“Eh?” 

“It regards one Misuzu Misaka. Actually, well, I suppose the name alone won’t make sense to you.” 

“…” 

Accelerator glanced around without meaning to. Studying the utterly normal night streets, he thought, Is this guy just providing information? Or is he watching me from a satellite feed…? 

“Who’s this Misuzu Misaka? Someone related to Railgun?” 

“Yes, that’s correct. Ah, excellent timing. It looks like it’s just getting started.” 

“What?” said Accelerator, frowning. 

Boom!! 

A portion of the city was suddenly illuminated by bright-red light cast by explosive flames. 

It was distant. The sound reached him a few seconds after the light. 

Phone still at his ear, Accelerator turned in that direction. 

Near the horizon, practically hidden by countless buildings, an unnatural light was shimmering. 

“A certain Misuzu Misaka has requested to use the Dangai University database center, so I had the facility attacked. She was the only one using it, and we confirmed several private security guards there, but, well—all within tolerable limits. All of the important data has been backed up on the network, so we don’t need to concern ourselves with the damages.” 

“Attacked?” 

“Yes.” 

“…Who is this Misaka person? She can’t be a professional spy.” 

“It is as you surmise. Misuzu Misaka is the mother of Mikoto Misaka. Her background is clean. You may rest assured of that, if you find that comforting.” 

Mother? Accelerator wondered, thinking back to Misuzu’s face, and his own expression became slightly dubious. But something was more concerning: “Why attack her mother? Didn’t you just say she had a clean background?” 

“Normal people present a danger all their own. I mentioned a matter to discuss with you a few moments ago, so allow me to explain that,” said the voice on the phone flatly. “Are you familiar with the recovery movement?” 

“That thing people are whispering about? All the guardians who want to pick up their kids and get them to a safe spot, since Academy City could go to war?” 

“The idea is no more than a foolish plan that doesn’t take into consideration our national defense circumstances at all, but it still presents a problem. If too many students were to leave Academy City, it would cause a variety of issues.” 

“…” 

Why the concern? 

Did the higher-ups not want to let go of students when they were usable as combat power? 

Did they want to avoid espers getting outside and potentially becoming leaks for research data? 

No, thought Accelerator suddenly. 

He was having this phone conversation with a superior of Group. Nobody in such a position would generalize it away like that. If they were concerned, then it must have to do with considerations that ran deeper down than that. 

For example… 

The things he’d glimpsed on September 30—Amata Kihara, the Hound Dogs, the giant winged monster, the injecting of the virus into Last Order, the silent attack on Academy City—it would have to do with the many fragments lurking behind the scenes. 

“Misuzu Misaka occupies a representative-like position in the recovery movement. We know she is not purposely attempting to cause problems for us, but even if it is a coincidence, it is nevertheless concerning… And so, we decided to nip this in the bud.” 

For a moment, the drunk woman’s face crossed Accelerator’s mind. 

She was an annoying person for sure, but that didn’t make it acceptable for her to be dragged into the world of darkness. 

But he was too late. 

The explosion had already happened. Misuzu Misaka had probably been blown to smithereens in that initial blast. 

However, the voice on the phone said, “Will you join them, Accelerator?” 

“What?” 

“I’m saying it could go toward paying off your debt. We gave Skill-Out money, requesting them for this operation, but—well, they’re not very skillful. We’d decided bringing out Group for a problem of this size ran the risk of exposure, but it turns out that worked against us. If you would assist us, it would earn you quite a few points. It would be the first step toward repaying the damages incurred on September 30. Your debt is approximately eight trillion yen, and I know you want to repay that quickly.” 

“…” Accelerator thought for a moment. 

If the voice on the phone was taking this seriously, it meant Misuzu Misaka was still alive. 

“I refuse.” 

He cut the proposal down in two words. 

“Skill-Out? Why would I do odd jobs with a bunch of Level Zero trash? Also, I don’t need to grovel to people like you and make your lives easier. I’m not here because of my debt.” 

As Accelerator spoke, he checked the choker electrode on his neck. 

He’d let loose today, but he still had some battery left. 

More than enough to handle a group of idiot Skill-Outs. 

He would save Misuzu Misaka. 

That was the conclusion Accelerator naturally reached. He’d felt the same with the whole Amata Kihara business, too. Small lives in danger because of an unfairly large power. Even Accelerator couldn’t help but laugh at himself, but that was all it took to incite a loathing within him. Enough to make him want to give the people responsible for the situation a scare. Enough to make him remember the time he fought for Last Order. 

As someone who claimed to be darkness. 

But even though he was darkness… 

“Someone like you might not understand this, but my life is my own. I don’t care what plans you have up there. I make the calls. Got that? I’m not your pawn, you hear me?” 

“I see. Well, if you will not take on this job, then please return home quickly,” said the voice on the phone, sounding somewhat disappointed. 

“I will hold on to your ability until then.” 

Bwee!! His neck electrode made a strange electronic noise of its own accord. 

What…?! 

Accelerator hastily flicked the switch. Nothing. Just a clicking noise. It didn’t switch his ability on. 

“You fucked with my electrode?!” 

“Oh? Was there a matter you needed to use your ability for?” 

Accelerator sucked his teeth. He’d given the choker-type electrode to Group’s engineering team temporarily so they could upgrade the battery. They must have planted something inside it. It probably had a safety in it that the voice on the phone could control remotely. 

Don’t trust us. 

The words Motoharu Tsuchimikado had spoken this morning suddenly felt a lot more real. 

“If you have no further questions, I will be taking my leave. Sleep well, Accelerator.” 

The call ended. 

“Hmph.” Accelerator sniffed, bored. This is good. Shit like this only gets me more riled up. 

A terrible light shone in his eyes. 

Putting the phone back in his pocket, Accelerator clenched his teeth. 

…All I can use is a single gun and about fifty bullets. I don’t know how many people, weapons, or power Skill-Out has committed. Can I get that drunk out of there with just this? 

It would be tough, but it would certainly be easier than when he’d gone up against the Hound Dogs led by Amata Kihara. Skill-Out could take down average espers with weapons alone, but that didn’t mean they’d gone through any professional training. 

The biggest problem right now was actually Misuzu. 

The attack had already begun. Skill-Out may have been a Level Zero organization, but delinquents who had armed themselves with guns and protective gear were more than enough to threaten ordinary folk. In the worst case, they might kill Misuzu before Accelerator got there. 

“…” 

For just a moment, Ritoku Komaba’s face flashed through his mind, but he ignored it. 

He didn’t have time to think about a villain who had tried to rise above his station. 

Steeling his resolve, Accelerator arrogantly pushed onward. 

That was all he needed. 

Shit. Annoying problems are best solved quickly. 

The location of the attack was the Dangai University database center. 

It was several kilometers away. Accelerator couldn’t go there on his crutch—he’d have to acquire a car somewhere. He changed course, heading toward a major road. 

Clap!! 

A certain boy suddenly dashed right past Accelerator. 

“…” 

It was a boy he remembered. 

One, in fact, he could never forget. 

Average height and build, black spiky hair, and his right hand balled into a fist. He was running, talking to someone on the phone as he went, toward the under-attack Dangai University, currently in flames. It was clear what he was going there to do. It would have been far harder for Accelerator not to imagine it. 

That…bastard!! 

Thanks to Accelerator being in a dark spot, the boy—his focus fully on the database center—didn’t seem to notice him there at all. Of course, if they ran into each other here, they might have gotten into a death match. That was the kind of opponent the boy was. 

Accelerator forced himself to shake his head and refocus. 

Damn. Not him, not now. I need to take down Skill-Out. I don’t give a flying fuck about what the higher-ups want. I’m not obligated to go along with their plans. Just think about how I can solve this with fifty bullets. 

Clenching his teeth hard, he started walking, crutch under him. 

Mikoto Misaka’s mother. 

He didn’t have a right to interfere in her life, but she also wasn’t unrelated to the brat. Radio Noise didn’t have any relatives, and Misuzu probably didn’t know about that small life she had created, but even so, she was linked to the kid. 

The two would probably never have a chance to meet, and it would absolutely be an issue if they did, but that didn’t mean it was all right to let her die. That was probably something he couldn’t lose in a place like this. Even if neither of them ever knew anything about the other. 

Accelerator was a villain. 

But he didn’t place restrictions on himself for being one. He’d abandoned all those stupid assumptions, like villains not being able to save good people or not being able to walk a proper path in life because they weren’t good guys. 

Now, then. 

Coming out onto a main street, eyes settling on the headlights of the taxi that had been hanging around to drive drunk people home, Academy City’s strongest esper smiled thinly. 

Let’s pretend to be super-serious and do something completely out of character. I’ll save you in a way that doesn’t even resemble a rescue—by spilling blood everywhere. 

5 

A little while before all this. 

Misuzu Misaka was in the database center. 

The main building was shaped like a dome, about fifty meters across, with several smaller buildings of squarish construction around it. At first, Misuzu had been using the computers inside the dome to do her research, but she had since moved to one of the adjacent buildings. 

There had been an emergency. 

First, an earsplitting explosion. Next, all the lights in the facility had gone off. The simulators were the only things still up, probably because they had backup meant for protecting data. 

Wh-what? What the heck was that? 

Holding her breath in one of the buildings next to the dome, in a space about as large as three school classrooms put together, Misuzu’s nerves were on edge. 

It felt like even her giddy, alcohol-driven mood had been washed away. 

Large flames had seemed to break out at the same time as the explosion, but it appeared that had already been extinguished. The situation, indeed, seemed unexpected even for the people pattering back and forth just past this wall—in the main domed facility—they hadn’t expected it, with voices calling out to one another: 

“The hell?! Who forgot to cut the security?! Shit, we were supposed to take it out in the one attack and get out of here!!” 

“How much time we got?! If they got an automatic report, it won’t even be five minutes!” 

“Well, we cut the normal security. The only alarms that activated were isolated to protect the simulators.” 

“Then it’s just a fire alarm? Either way, we don’t have much time… All right, let’s find that woman.” 

Judging by their tones, they were young men, around middle school or high school age. Ten to twenty of them. Misuzu couldn’t tell what they were holding, but the sound of clacking metal alone made her cringe. As far as she could tell by the explosion earlier, they could have firearms and explosives. 

Woman. Find that woman? Was…was there someone here aside from me? 

She was the only one using the facilities at this hour, and the guards had all been men… At least, that was what she thought. Considering how they were talking, their goal wasn’t just robbery or sabotage, but “that woman.” 

Nope. I’m the only one here. I’m the only woman in this building! What the hell is going on here?! 

Misuzu leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. 

This appeared to be the room where they stored the less important processors. Metal shelves all lined up, like a library. Except, instead of thick books packed together, they were large motherboards covered in clear cases. They used liquid cooling for the CPUs, not air cooling, so she didn’t hear any fan motors. Instead, countless tubes ran every which way like blood vessels. 

With the fluorescent lights off, the only light in the room came from the red-and-green blinking access lights. 

I… I need to find an exit. An emergency exit… 

She looked around, but she didn’t see any doors like that. 

She couldn’t escape. Once they found her, it was over. Once she accepted that, she grew, for whatever reason, a little excited. Maybe it was the alcohol being weird; she felt strange. Wrapped in a strange energy, like moments before starting a marathon. Earlier, she had felt like her drunkenness had been punched out of her, but some of it still remained. She would have liked to completely shake it off considering the situation, but it seemed she wasn’t able to sober up that easily. 

What is happening…? 

Misuzu got her phone out of her pocket. 

The first thing on her call history was a three-digit number. It was the emergency number for Anti-Skill, this city’s peacekeeping agency. Even with the alcohol affecting her mind, she remembered that. Yes, she’d called them right after the attack had gone off, and a man with a polite tone of voice had answered her. The young men strutting about in the main dome-shaped building were afraid of warning reports being sent off automatically, but Misuzu had already made the call anyway. Several minutes had passed since then, so Anti-Skill must have already been on their way here. 

But for some reason, it seemed nobody had shown up. 

…But why? 

Misuzu couldn’t help but stare dubiously at her call history. 

The number there was unmistakable. She had contacted an Anti-Skill station. But nobody was actually coming. Anxiety crossed her mind. Had it really been Anti-Skill? Who, exactly, was that man with the strangely polite tone of voice? 

Why? Why aren’t they coming?! I know I called them. I didn’t mess anything up! Why do I have to be the loser here?! 

Misuzu’s fingertips started trembling harder. 

Her fear, which had been initially dispersed by the booze, finally crept back into her mind. 

Any noise at all would spell her doom, and yet she wanted to forget everything and scream. 

I can’t do this alone. Can’t do it alone. They’ll corner me by myself. I need to talk to someone—to anyone, I just need to tell all this to someone before I explode. 

Misuzu opened her phone’s contact list. 

For some reason, at this time, she didn’t think of her husband. She could contact a third party outside Academy City and have them report this to the police, but Academy City had near-complete control in terms of internal policing and wouldn’t allow other police departments to interfere in their jurisdiction. (The majority opinion, though, was that they didn’t have independent laws, but rather regulations, which was nothing more than an expedient to guard Japan’s national pride.) That meant that even if she contacted a third party, it would have to be someone inside the city. 

But she hesitated to call her own daughter. That would probably spell the end of her pride as her mother. If Misuzu showed weakness and relied on her, she would never be able to call herself a parent again. 

It had to be someone inside Academy City that she could contact right away. 

Someone other than her own daughter. 

There was only one person who fit that description. 

Ha-ha… 

Misuzu pressed her phone buttons with her thumb. 

In order to lighten the pressure threatening to crush her, if even by a little, she called a certain boy. 

6 

Academy City’s last trains and buses coincided with the final school closing time. 

“Damn it!!” 

So all Kamijou could do was run through the dark streets. Seriously starting to consider getting a scooter license soon, he kept on running toward his destination, the Dangai University database center. 

As he did, he shouted into the phone at his ear. “Mrs. Misaka, you said those guys making a mess over there had guns, right? It’s probably Skill-Out. If it was a bunch of regular espers, they’d be relying on their powers instead!” 

“Um, I don’t really know what ‘Skill-Out’ is…” 

“They’re basically an armed gang. A group of delinquents with seriously dangerous weapons!” 

Finally, the facility’s silhouette came within view. 

As he ran, Kamijou realized that the flames he’d seen earlier were gone now. Just as Misuzu had reported, the database center’s automatic extinguishers had kicked in. 

“These delinquents—why would they be after me?” 

“Well… I don’t know,” Kamijou admitted, wondering if it had to do with Mikoto—and then he realized it. “Did you call your daughter?” 

“Huh?” 

“She’s a Level Five. There’s only seven of them in Academy City. She’ll be way more useful than regular Anti-Skill officers! If you haven’t called her yet, I can—” 

“Wait!!” interrupted Misuzu in the firmest tone he’d heard from her yet. “That’s a hard no from me! It’s not about how much she can bring to the table. If I get her mixed up in this, I won’t be able to face her anymore!!” 

Normally, Kamijou would have thought that opinion irresponsible. That she sounded like she was just reading what she was supposed to say from a newspaper. 

But Misuzu’s life was actively under threat. And in that situation, she had immediately rejected involving Mikoto. 

“…All right,” he said as he ran, squeezing the phone harder. “Then I’ll go. The sub-arithmetic logic unit warehouse is where I’m sneaking in, all right?!” 

“Huh? No, wait—I wasn’t asking that of you!!” 

So hard to please, Kamijou thought. 

The database center was already just a stone’s throw away. 

The facilities were adjacent to the Dangai University campus, but the database center was almost twice the size of the main college. He could already hear the odd gunshot or the sound of shattering glass from inside the domed silhouette. Quite a few onlookers had come to check out the disturbance, probably drawn in by that big explosion at the start. In contrast, though, there were hardly any Anti-Skill officers around. They were hiding behind cars, using a radio to request backup, as though they were afraid of potential snipers. But something was wrong; they were practically arguing with one another. 

Kamijou sped by them and ran straight for the building. 

The officers yelled from behind for him to stop, but he put them out of his mind. 

I’ve gone toe to toe with Skill-Out a whole bunch of times in the past, but… 

Fortunately for him, at least, they seemed to have their hands full searching the facilities and weren’t paying enough attention to the outside. Even when he ran through the cover-less plaza, nobody shot at him. 

…Generally, my only two options were either to run away or hide around a corner to counterattack. I don’t think I’ve ever jumped straight into things like this! 

This one was going to be a pain, he thought, as he jumped through the completely smashed front door glass. 

7 

Shiage Hamazura was pissed. 

The original plan was to go to the facility with a stolen car under cover of night, fire homemade incendiary rockets at it, and flee. That was it. They’d been told, ahead of time, what places to burn so that it would block off all exits, getting the smoke to efficiently fill up the inside. 

Their first blunder had come when three out of the eight rockets had turned out to be duds. 

And even the five that went off were immediately extinguished by the database center’s automatic extinguishers. The explosions had twisted the building’s superstructure, but not enough to completely destroy one part of the outside wall, which was covered in soap-like bubbles. If their main weapons—the flames and the smoke—were useless, their target would probably survive. 

Now Hamazura and the others couldn’t leave. Now they had to kill the target personally. 

To make matters worse… 

“Haven’t we found that woman yet…?” 

All they’d been given by the person who’d made this request was a photograph; they knew nothing of the woman herself, not even her name. If she escaped the facilities, donned sunglasses and a knit hat to hide her facial features, and blended in with a crowd, they’d have no way of searching for her. They had to deal with her right here, right now. 

“I said, haven’t we found her yet, damn it?!” he shouted in a deep voice, but the other Skill-Out guys only glanced his way, not saying much of anything, resuming their search. 

Yes—other Skill-Out guys. 

Until a few hours ago, they’d all been led by a man named Ritoku Komaba. Now that he’d disappeared, Hamazura had slid into the top seat, but the new chain of command hadn’t been properly hammered out yet. In fact, it felt like there was a lot of dissatisfaction in the air. If this mission ended in failure, they’d immediately push all the responsibility on him. 

The differences between Ritoku Komaba and Shiage Hamazura were clear as day. Komaba naturally stood in the middle of people, at their center, but Hamazura just forced people to do the shit he didn’t want to do himself. It was like a foreign body sensation, and it wouldn’t go away no matter how well they did their jobs. He’d never get rid of his sense of being out of place in the eyes of others. 

He knew that, and that was why he was pissed. 

Their as-yet unspotted target, this command-structureless method of searching—all of it was starting to seem like acts of betrayal, holding him back. 

Irritation evident on his face, Hamazura fiddled with his nose ring. He’d just had it pierced last month, but it was incredibly bothersome. The subtle sensation threw off his focus, and worst of all, it collected sweat. 

“…No turning back. There’s no turning back for us. Damn it, Komaba. You put together this big, crazy plan, then went and flopped over on your own. What the hell are the rest of us supposed to do now…?” 

Then several of the young men gathered in front of a door. 

They seemed to have found a room they hadn’t searched yet. Generally, none of the doors in the facility were locked. The boys entered without issue, and Hamazura heard a woman’s short shriek from within. 

Looked like they’d found her. 

Nobody bothered to use their radio, so Hamazura, without a choice, decided to give instructions to those searching other locations. I’m more like an errand boy than a leader, he thought, heading for the room a few moments after the others. 

“This is the central dome crew. Target spotted in the sub-ALU warehouse. We’ll deal with her, so I want the rest of you prepping our escape. Bring the car around.” 

He figured he’d get an unenergetic “okay” in response. 

“Gah?! You—bastard, wait—zhzhhzhzhhzh!!” 

A nonsensical cry came through instead, followed by ear-piercing static. 

As if that wasn’t enough, he heard two gunshots from somewhere in the same facility. 

Anti-Skill? Damn, we took too long! 

Watching the target as the others dragged her from the room by the scruff of her neck, Hamazura started considering what instructions he should give over the radio, but then: 

“Why, hello there, shitheads!” 

Hamazura’s shoulders gave a start. 

He could tell even through the poor sound quality on the radio—that was clearly not one of his people. You didn’t hear a voice like this much, one that sounded like metal scraping together. And the person wasn’t even trying to hide anything, either. His unique voice came through, loud and clear. 

“Attention all units. All you Skill-Out bastards have just won a free one-day trip to paradise. Boy, is it a good deal! It’s so good you may not even want to come back. Anyway, time to enjoy some near-death experiences.” 

After saying all that, Accelerator cut the transmission. 

A moment later… 

…earsplitting gunshots began to ring out. 

8 

Touma Kamijou pushed his back up against a corner of the passage. 

In both hands, he held a rectangular pane of bulletproof glass he’d taken from a window. It was heavy, somewhere from seven to ten kilograms, about a meter to a side. 

He’d picked it up at some point inside the facilities, but it probably wasn’t that bulletproof. After all, the glass panes on the front door—which should have been the strongest—had all been shattered in the attack. 

But it was better than nothing. 

Skill-Out frequently carried guns with them. 

If nothing else, he felt like this was safer than stuffing a bunch of manga magazines under his shirt. 

“…” 

At his feet lay an unconscious man holding a taser. Kamijou had hid here in ambush, and as soon as he saw the guy, he’d swung the bulletproof glass as hard as he could, sending the stainless steel edge crashing into his target’s nose. The man fell over like he’d stepped on a banana peel and lay still. 

Kamijou had already taken out about four Skill-Out guys like this. 

When fighting against people who had weapons, the rule was to never give them an opportunity to attack. If they had clashed in a straight-up fight, Kamijou would have already lost. On the other hand, though, he didn’t need to fear any weapon as long as he could prevent it from being used beforehand. Blade, gun—the principle worked the same. 

If they’d been moving in groups of two or three, I wouldn’t have been able to use this tactic… Thanks for being stupid, you guys. Every single one of you, walking around alone. Maybe figure out how to use your numbers a little better. 

Kamijou picked up the taser. 

He’d been confiscating the weapons from all the Skill-Out members he’d taken down, but in this case, it was less because it was a weapon and more that he didn’t want to let it fall into enemy hands again. 

Either way, with the bulletproof glass pane taking up both his hands, he wouldn’t be able to use a second weapon. 

“All right… Now where’s this sub-ALU warehouse?” Kamijou murmured, adjusting his grip on the big glass sheet. 

The database center featured a domed facility in the middle, with several smaller two- and three-story buildings connected to it. 

He doubted Skill-Out would be gathered anywhere other than the main facility, so Kamijou was using the access passages between the smaller buildings around the dome to make his approach in a roundabout fashion. 

A few of the places were ones he could only enter from the dome, but Kamijou hadn’t hit a dead end yet. For now, deciding to use the connecting hallways to go around a full time, he started toward the next building. 

Bam! Bang!! He heard gunshots. 

“…?!” 

For a moment, a chill ran down his spine. Was he too late? But as far as he could tell from the ensuing commotion, the hornet’s nest had just been poked. Misuzu didn’t have a gun, of course. Which meant someone else was in combat with them now. 

Anti-Skill? Or maybe Skill-Out is fighting itself? Well, doesn’t matter. This is my chance!! 

Each time Kamijou came to a passage corner, he’d carefully look around the other way to make sure nobody was there before moving to the next building. 

But before long, he ran into a dead end. 

More precisely, the only hallway left was the one leading directly into the main domed building. 

Crap, figures this would happen! But I can’t stop here! 

He ran down the hallway for now, getting closer to the door that led to the central dome. 

Then he quieted, reached out with a hand, and—after hesitating once—slowly touched the doorknob. 

With the delicate motions of a bomb defuser, he carefully twisted the knob around and around. He heard the hard click of the door mechanism moving. The door opened, revealing a very thin crack. 

Kamijou peered inside. 

Circular office desks were set up like the concentric rings in a tree stump, and countless computers were on them. The facility’s lights were off, but the room was bathed in the dull glow of the monitors. 

In one corner of the domed building were four or five young men, standing stiffly. 

And at their center was a woman who had to be Misuzu Misaka, forced to sit there. 

They were about ten meters away, but those kids must have higher-ranking members of Skill-Out, since they all carried guns. If Kamijou was careless in his approach, he wouldn’t be able to prevent them from riddling her with holes. 

…The situation’s so bad I almost want to laugh. How the hell am I supposed to save her?! 

The young men seemed to be arguing. They appeared to be split over what to do about the current gunfire in the facilities; some wanted to kill Misuzu now and get out, while others wanted to use her as a hostage. 

The ones on the “kill” team would push their guns against Misuzu’s head, and the ones on the “hostage” team would push those guns away before the process repeated itself. Even if they didn’t honestly intend to kill her, someone’s finger could accidentally slip and pull the trigger. 

“Damn it…,” Kamijou murmured, withdrawing from the door for a moment. 

Four or five of them. All of them armed. Can’t exactly shout and charge in. 

He checked the weapons he’d taken off the Skill-Out goons. 

He had a taser, a police baton, and even a long-range insecticide probably meant to stand in for tear gas. Not only were all of them unreliable… 

…but since my hands are taken up by this shield, I’ll have to decide to either attack or defend. Not both… 

Kamijou glanced at his large bulletproof glass pane again. No, I can’t get rid of this. Tasers and insecticide can’t disable someone wielding a gun in one hit. And if I can’t do that, they’ll definitely have an opening to counterattack. 

Which meant he’d just have to enter the dome with it in hand. 

Kamijou reaffirmed his grip on the pane, his palms slick with sweat. He got close to the metal door and cracked it open again. 

No change in the situation. 

Four or five young men arguing; Misuzu surrounded. 

They were about ten meters away, but the rows of computer-laden desks were in the way. 

He couldn’t go straight toward them. 

So far away. 

But then Kamijou spotted a slightly dirty bag near him by the entrance. It had been tossed aside on the floor right next to a desk. It probably belonged to Skill-Out. It was unlatched and open, and an object that looked like a spray can—and a gun—peeked out at him. 

“…” Kamijou gulped. 

The bag was about three meters away; he wouldn’t be able to reach it from where he was. If he was going to grab the gun, he’d still need to open the door some more and sneak into the dome. 

Can I…do it? 

The facility’s power was off. The only illumination came from the computers, which were running on emergency power supplies, and they only dimly lit the air. It was virtually pitch-black around Kamijou’s feet. 

On top of that, the dome’s floor was covered in a short-fibered carpet. 

He’d never be able to sneak all the way up to Misuzu and sneak her back out. 

But if it was only three meters… 

If he could just get that gun, leaving aside whether he’d actually fire the thing… 

He wouldn’t have to go down to Misuzu, who was in the middle of a crowd. 

If he could go three meters in a situation where nobody had noticed him yet… 

…It’s my only choice, he thought, regripping the glass sheet’s frame. I have no idea how to use a firearm, but if it’s an equal weapon to what they have, I should be able to threaten them, at least. And I have this bulletproof glass. I should have the advantage even if things turn sour. 

Forcing himself to focus on the bright side, he flexed his trembling legs and placed his palm on the surface of the slightly ajar metal door. 

Slowly, he pushed it forward. 

The Skill-Out guys didn’t seem to notice the door moving a little. Crouching, Kamijou walked into the dome. Slowly, carefully. Just three meters—that distance to the bag with the gun in it felt terribly far to him. 

And then, Kamijou’s eyes met Misuzu’s, ten meters away. 

“Huh?” 

The moment Misuzu accidentally let out a grunt, everyone from Skill-Out looked toward Kamijou. 

In a flash, Kamijou dove behind the nearest desk. What is she, some kind of moron?! 

He was shaking, but now he couldn’t do anything. They might not have been able to see where he was hiding, but it would be obvious the door was unnaturally open. 

Kamijou could hear someone coming his way. 

Since he was hiding behind the desk, he couldn’t see the person’s features or weapons. 

Only the clicking and clacking of footsteps. 

The footfalls came in an irregular rhythm because of the carpet. He might have been checking to see if any footprints were left behind. Kamijou doubted the person could check accurately in the dark, but if they were to find him, it would all be over. 

What about the gun?! 

Kamijou glanced around him, still lowered, but the bag on the floor was across the narrow aisle running between the desks. He could probably reach it, but if he did that, they’d spot him immediately. 

Imagine Breaker wouldn’t work against their guns. 

He felt a cold sweat break out along his back. 

His heartbeat seemed to dominate his ears. 

Damn it… His teeth nearly started to chatter. 

It may have been the extreme tension, but the more he tried to hold his breath, the more raggedly it escaped him. 

From his blind position, he could only hear the footsteps. 

I’ve gotta do it. They’ll find me for sure at this rate. I have to do it! One hit. Land one hit to scare him, then I’ll manage. Before he can regroup, I’ll dive for the bag with the gun and turn the tables!! 

Just then… 

Crack. 

The big bag right next to him was trampled on. 

He couldn’t wait any longer. 

If he waited, it would only give the opponent the initiative. 

“!!” 

Kamijou inhaled deeply, then launched himself out of his crouch and out from the cover of the executive desk. As he sprang up, he swung the glass pane sideways. 

A tall man with a nose ring looked baffled. 

A moment later, his face disappeared from Kamijou’s sight. Wham!! came the dull noise as the Skill-Out member’s body slammed into the floor. Kamijou must have cut flesh, because the metallic nose ring floated by itself in the air for a moment. 

One down. 

But there was no joy on Kamijou’s face. 

The bag with the gun in it was right there, but he’d forgotten to even reach out for it. 

Right in front of him, not even a meter away, stood another young man, whose face was oddly pale. 

Two people came to check?! 

Kamijou unconsciously stiffened up, but so did the young man, apparently. The person, aside from the fact that he was holding a gun, was a student with no training or experience. He probably couldn’t hide his confusion at seeing his colleague suddenly knocked out. 

He heard a small tink. 

The nose ring floating in the air had hit the floor. 

““…!!”” 

Kamijou and the pale-faced young man moved at the same time, but right then, something else happened: 

A different man who had been waiting by Misuzu pointed his gun at Kamijou. A sharp clack rang out—he must have cocked the hammer back with his thumb. Two captors were near Misuzu, and one of them… One of them, with thin chains around his arms, gripped his gun with trembling hands. The other one nearby—a young man with dozens of rips in his shirt and pants—tried to stop him, but the trigger was pulled before that. 

“You can’t be serious—!!” 

The shout came not from Kamijou, but from the pale-faced kid next to him. 

But the gunshots continued. 

Bam, bang, bgree!! came the sounds, not quite roars and not quite booms. 

Kamijou, who had immediately brought the bulletproof glass up, felt a stinging pain shoot through his wrists. No bullets had struck him; the impacts on the glass had transferred to his bones. 

Meanwhile, the amateur near Kamijou was blasted to the floor like he’d been struck by a hammer. Kamijou clenched his teeth, noticing the dark-red liquid coming out of the kid’s side, but he couldn’t do anything for him right now. 

For a moment, he wondered whether to hide behind something. 

Damn it! No, I’ve gotta stop that from happening…!! 

Glass before him, Kamijou dashed for Misuzu—or rather, the two people standing next to her. 

About ten meters separated them. 

Kamijou ran, twisting around the lines of desks. 

Then the next gunshot came. 

The bullet struck the window’s surface, but that alone sent Kamijou’s upper body reeling backward. He tried to regain his balance, but another bullet connected with the glass, forcing the frame out of his hands. 

With a metallic crash, the large window fell to the floor. 

There was no time to pick it up again. 

When Kamijou looked up from his hands, which were sweating from pain and nervousness, he found two muzzles glaring at him. This time, it wasn’t just the man with the chains—the one with the ripped pants wouldn’t hesitate, either. 

Just five meters. 

The fluorescent lights were off, but Kamijou could still see the faces of the young men from Skill-Out. On one of them, Kamijou definitely saw a line of sweat trickling from his nose to the corner of his lips. His aim quivered; his index finger moved awkwardly, like a rusted doll. And in a moment of total silence, that sight burned itself into Kamijou’s retinas. 

And last, Kamijou found Misuzu’s face out of the corner of his eye. 

She was sitting on the floor, baffled, shouting something. 

Her lips were moving, but the words didn’t register for Kamijou. 

It was like time had stopped. He couldn’t move a single finger. 

Zzz-bang!! came a high-pitched gunshot. 

And then sound returned to normal. 

In that moment, Kamijou thought his heart had literally stopped. 

But he found his body hadn’t sprouted any new nine-millimeter holes. He saw one of the people pointing a gun at him, the man with the chains around his limbs, had been blown sideways in an unnatural way. A spurt of dark-red blood trailed behind him, and then he crumpled to the floor helplessly. 

Kamijou heard Misuzu raise a wordless scream. 

The young man in the ripped pants spun around, looking to the side—toward a different entrance than the one Kamijou had used. 

Someone had shot the Skill-Out guy from there. 

“You—bastard!!” the kid shouted. 

The paralysis affecting Kamijou’s senses finally dissipated. 

As though he had regained his flexibility by breaking a hardened string, Kamijou immediately hid himself under a nearby desk. 

Maintaining his posture, he shouted to Misuzu, who was sitting there in a daze a few meters away, “Get down!!” 

Despite his shout, Misuzu continued being flabbergasted and didn’t move. 

“Mrs. Misaka, get down!!” 

A bang and a boom of gunshots cut off Kamijou’s cry. 

He didn’t know who had started this firefight, but at this rate, Misuzu could get hit by a stray bullet. 

Damn it!! Kamijou, hidden under the desk, took a shallow breath. Can I do it…? Shit, I just have to charge right in!! 

Still bent low to the ground, he burst out from behind his cover. 

He ran the five-meter distance, barreled into Misuzu—who was still sitting on the floor—then pushed her all the way down, covering her with his body. 

The gunshots continued. 

“Let’s run…” 

He didn’t need to do something crazy to stop this fight. 

“Now!!” 

Kamijou grabbed Misuzu’s arm and started running so they could escape this dome as soon as possible. 

9 

Accelerator, upon stepping into the main domed facility, decided, for the moment, to put a bullet in anyone holding a gun. He started with one of the two standing near Misuzu, aiming his muzzle at a man with chains around his limbs before casually pulling the trigger. 

Bam! came the dry noise. 

Seeing the man blown to the side, blood spurting from his torso, Misuzu, who was sitting nearby, let out a short shriek. 

Being human could be such an inconvenience. 

No matter how big your body was, all it took was a single nine-millimeter hole to take you down. 

“You—bastard!!” 

The remaining Skill-Out guy, shouting something, brought his weapon to bear, but Accelerator waited out several bullets behind the metal door, then sprayed gunfire in response. 

The man with the tears in his shirt and jeans hid behind a desk, but Accelerator ignored it, shooting through the desk to get to him, thus silencing him. 

Anyway. How many Skill-Out are left…? 

“There we are.” 

Accelerator turned his muzzle toward a black shadow dragging Misuzu’s arm in an attempt to get to the exit door and casually fired. 

“Owaahhhh?!” 

He heard an exaggerated scream, but the bullet missed the figure slightly to the side. Accelerator must have been too conscious of Misuzu being next to the target. He’d clearly been lax in his aim. 

The figure continued to run, with Misuzu in tow, to escape the muzzle. Apparently, the idea of putting his hands up and stopping never crossed his mind. 

Accelerator tsked. “Really? Interesting… Still loyal to your client? You’ve got balls.” 

A smile split across Accelerator’s mouth. He reaffirmed his grip on his gun and took aim. 

“Hey, you worthless piece of shit! I’ll turn you into scrap!!” 

“Shut up already, idiot! What did Misuzu ever do?! Not only are you after someone innocent, but now you’re fighting among yourselves!! I don’t care what happens to you—you could all die for all I care!!” 

The annoyingly loud voice reached Accelerator’s ears, but Accelerator ignored it, focusing on his trigger finger. However, Misuzu’s back was still in the way, and he couldn’t fire. 

While he was trying to take aim, the two of them ran through another exit. 

Accelerator scratched himself with the hot barrel of his gun. 

…Wait? Fighting among ourselves? 

He thought about the words for a moment. 

Which means he thought I was one of them. Does that make him someone from outside Skill-Out? Misuzu Misaka should have been the only one scheduled to use these facilities… Was it Judgment or something? 

It also bothered him how the kid hadn’t used a gun and fought back. His movements certainly hadn’t looked trained. 

And I don’t get how he knew the woman’s name… Though maybe they’re not acquainted, and Skill-Out actually did get ahold of her name. 

Deciding to aim his gun that way and fire a few parting shots anyway, Accelerator proceeded farther into the domed facility. 

“Now, then.” 

For now, he decided to chase down the figure that had run off with his target. 

He didn’t know who that figure was, but he hadn’t killed Misuzu and run away by himself. In the worst case, even if that person was with Skill-Out, he clearly didn’t intend to kill Misuzu before going to a safe location. The fact that the stranger hadn’t opened fire when Accelerator had stepped into the dome meant he probably didn’t have a gun. 

Which meant… 

I’ll just have to catch up to him before he leaves the premises and take care of him. 

So he thought, but then the pattering of multiple footsteps in several directions reached his ears. 

They’d probably heard the firefight earlier. 

It probably wouldn’t be easy to get much farther. 

I’ll just have to fall back and deal with them first. The desks in here won’t provide hard cover against bullets. 

Searching for a place to fight, Accelerator glanced around, then suddenly stopped. 

There were three pieces of trash now collapsed in the dome. 

But there were four guns on the floor. 

10 

Kamijou and Misaka went through the hallway that ran from the main dome facility to another smaller, rectangular building, then used an emergency exit there to finally get outside. 

Curious onlookers had gathered by the front entrance, but the two of them had emerged from a back door into an empty area. 

Pulling on Misuzu’s hand, Kamijou said, “For now, let’s go somewhere with more people. Rubberneckers and Anti-Skill are out front, so if we go around to them, we should be pretty safe.” 

Misuzu sighed. “Despite all the talk, you’re still just a boy. And I relied on you from start to finish. You really are eclipsing my title of guardian.” 

She was oddly dejected, but it would have been harder to tell her to stay resolute in that situation. Frankly, Kamijou didn’t want to do that ever again, either. 

So instead of blaming her too much, he decided to urge her onward. 

“Quick. We managed to get outside, but it’s not like we got rid of all of them. If we get attacked again here, we’ll have to start from scratch.” 

“Yes, yes. Thank you for escorting a lady by the hand,” said Misuzu. 

Kamijou suddenly got embarrassed. He tried to release her hand from his grip, but Misuzu grabbed his hand instead. 

She appeared to be teasing him, but maybe she was actually seriously scared beneath the surface. 

Kamijou decided not to argue and to focus on getting away from the premises. 

The dome was about fifty meters across, and even combined with the buildings around it, the place wasn’t that big. It would only be a few minutes’ walk to the front entrance. They’d escaped the most dangerous situation, so Kamijou thought they were safer than he let on. As long as these guys weren’t the type to try to kill them along with the bystanders, getting to the front entrance would probably cause Skill-Out to retreat on their own. 

However. 

“Don’t move.” 

A figure stood there, blocking their path to the front entrance. 

It was the one Kamijou had hit with the bulletproof glass in that dome. He’d probably woken up shortly after. His nose had a dark-red color stuck to it, maybe due to his nose ring getting yanked out. Despite the situation being what it was, Kamijou should still have tied him up while he was unconscious. 

“Don’t you dare move… Who the hell are you? Why did you come here at the worst time? Was that request a fake after all? Have we been tricked…?” 

Kamijou frowned. “Request?” 

“Why is that your question? You know what this is all about. Komaba went and got himself killed, and now I have to be the one to lead them in his place. This is me dealing with the aftermath. I figured I had to curry favor with them in order to avoid their back-alley crackdown … Damn it. Were they just trying to get rid of us from the beginning?!” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Kamijou, putting together the fragmentary words. “But I only came here because I got a phone call. From her. I don’t know what you’re imagining, but my circumstances aren’t very complicated.” 

The man’s mouth hung open. 

And then he grinned. 

“Ha-ha…” He began to laugh mirthlessly. “So what, then? There’s almost no doubt we’re all about to retire and get caught by Anti-Skill, yet you, in the middle of all this, barely even have a motive? My life as Shiage Hamazura is about to end, and this is the finale… Couldn’t you have lied and said it was all some giant conspiracy, or planned by a genius tactician, or something? Ha-ha-ha. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!” 

The man, who called himself Hamazura, reached behind him as he spoke. 

It must have been tucked in his pants belt. 

His hand came out with a retractable police baton, which he gave a shake to extend. 

“I can’t deal with this. I’ll need to beat you to death to be satisfied.” 

Hamazura immediately dashed for Kamijou. 

Kamijou pushed Misuzu to the side. 

Because of that, he lost valuable moments, and he heard the whoosh of wind at his ears. It was like a tennis racket swinging—and it was, of course, a baton. 

“!!” 

Kamijou put his left arm up instantly to protect his face. 

The strike, which had aimed for his temple, gave off a dull noise as it connected with a spot lower than Kamijou’s wrist. 

A terrible creaking raced through his bones. 

As he winced in pain, Hamazura gave him a hard knee in the side. 

Bam!! It roared like a beaten drum. 

“Guh, ah!!” 

All the air came rushing out of Kamijou’s mouth. 

The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, along with everything that was tucked into his belt. The self-defense weapons he’d stolen from the Skill-Out members he’d taken down—tasers and police batons and such. 

Damn it! Imagine Breaker won’t work on a Level Zero!! 

Gritting his teeth, Kamijou quickly crouched to pick up the taser on the damp ground. 

“Did you think I’d just let you do that?” 

Hamazura’s sole crunched down on Kamijou’s hand after it grasped the weapon. 

Kamijou didn’t even have time to feel the dull pain. 

“Nobody knows better than us how to use these things!!” 

An awful boom resounded. 

Hamazura, still stepping on Kamijou’s hand, had used his other leg to kick Kamijou in the jaw. 

“Brgh?!” 

Kamijou’s consciousness wavered. 

But maybe he was just lucky he hadn’t bitten his tongue. 

Kamijou’s body keeled over backward like a bridge, then fell to the ground faceup. Misuzu let out a quiet cry, but Kamijou couldn’t think about that now. He scooped up some dirt from the ground and flung it toward Hamazura’s face. 

“!!” 

It didn’t blind Hamazura, since he’d covered his face with a hand, but he still flinched backward a bit. 

Kamijou swiftly rose, then kept himself low and tackled Hamazura’s gut with all the strength he could muster. A roaring thump rose from his shoulders, as though he’d broken through a doorframe. 

Hamazura’s legs scraped across the ground. 

But he still didn’t fall over backward. 

This guy…?! 

“Sorry, but I’m a Level Zero.” 

Kamijou heard the quiet voice right next to his ear. 

Hamazura was speaking to him, while he had his arms around Hamazura’s body, from point-blank range. 

“Gotta have a strong body to go toe to toe with espers in back alleys. Man, it really is stupid. We’re out here doing the same stuff as athletes, but where’s our applause?!” 

The butt of the police baton slammed into the back of Kamijou’s neck. 

There was a crack, and a new sharp pain Kamijou hadn’t anticipated shot through his whole body. 

As he moaned, the baton came down a few more times. Then Hamazura used his left hand, which wasn’t holding the baton, to grab Kamijou’s chest before he staggered and fell. 

Hamazura laughed, right up close to him. 

“Ohhh. Wait, I get it. If you’re not with them, our deal with them is still valid. If I take the corpse of their target to them, maybe we can even get them to protect us. Ha-ha-ha!!” 

But those words were, perhaps, a mistake. 

Gree!! 

A clear power resided in the light given off by the eyes of Kamijou, who by all estimations should have been exhausted by now. 

“You try…saying that again…you asshole!!” he roared, slamming his own forehead into Hamazura’s jaw and lower lip. With a cracking like a flowerpot falling from a high place, Hamazura’s neck reeled backward. 

And then, Kamijou rammed his clenched fist into the crown of Hamazura’s nose. 

Hamazura’s body, which had formed a bridge, immediately crashed to the ground. 

“Agahhhh!!” 

Kamijou tried to use his feet to follow up on his attacks as Hamazura rolled, holding his nose. However, his footing was wobbly; maybe the damage had affected him more than he’d thought. 

“Damn… You fight so recklessly.” 

Meanwhile, Hamazura managed to get himself on his feet. 

His lips were bright red; the head-butt earlier must have broken his front teeth. 

“Quit dragging this out and give us that woman’s corpse. That’s the deal we had. Komaba failed, so we don’t have any other way out. We have to fulfill this request…” 

Despite having been on the offensive so much, Hamazura’s words were strangely weak. 

Kamijou frowned, then realized why. 

They had formed this group of Level Zeroes because they feared unilateral attacks from the strong. 

That was why, no matter how much strength they gained, they weren’t used to people seriously punching them. 

Kamijou thought about it but then spat. 

“Don’t be a moron,” he said, reflecting on how the words dug into him at the same time. “All this request bullshit? You think I’ll let you kill someone for no reason like it’s some kind of homework? Does human life mean nothing to you? You really believe you can put it on a scale with money and goods? That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard!!” 

“We can’t help it. If we don’t do stuff like this, we Level Zeroes can’t survive! No matter where we go, we’re made fools of, and whenever we make places for ourselves, they destroy them all and call it city beautification or some shit… What other path do Level Zeroes have aside from preying on others?! You tell me!!” 

Skill-Out. 

A self-defense group formed by Level Zeroes. 

There must have been a good reason they had to make such a thing to defend themselves. 

Events where violence and unfairness reigned, the kind that would never be brought out in the daylight. 

However. 

“…Don’t lump me in with you.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t lump all Level Zeroes in with you shitheads!” 

“You’re… That’s right. What is your ability…? You haven’t used it even once…,” murmured Hamazura, wiping the blood from his mouth, glancing around. 

Kamijou ignored him and said what he wanted to say. “Of course Level Zeroes have a place to be. You want to know if there’s a way to live other than preying on others? Of course there is!! There’s tons of Level Zeroes all over Academy City. And they all go to school like normal kids, make friends like normal kids, and live their lives like normal kids! What do you mean, you get made fools of wherever you go? That kind of thinking is the number one thing making fools of Level Zeroes!!” 

“Wait. Are you…? You’re the same as us…!!” 

“I’m not the same. At least, I don’t do the shit you guys do. I don’t attack people who have power just because I don’t have any! I may be a Level Zero, but I haven’t fallen so far that I get my kicks from making life worse for others!” 

“Fallen?” repeated Hamazura, frowning. “You think we’ve fallen down? That’s ridiculous. We’ve ascended! Skill-Out is a hundred times better than those guys who discriminate against us for not having power, and they don’t give us any of theirs if they have it!!” 

“Then have you ever reached out to help anyone who needed it?” 

“…?!” 

“If you can’t answer that, then you’re the same as they are. This is ridiculous. Who’s going to do anything to save people who won’t let others borrow their strength? Who would ever want to get involved with people who act like their happiness is a right but don’t even think about others being happy?! In the end, all the problems come back to you!!” 

It was all getting just so stupid that Kamijou couldn’t help yelling. 

This Level Zero was altogether too weak. 

And on top of being weak, he tried to reason his weakness away. Because of that, he never grew. 

“If you had used the power you used to make Skill-Out to help people weaker than you, everything would be different!! If you used that power you have to fight against strong espers to help those in trouble, you’d all be accepted by the people of Academy City!! I don’t understand why I even have to spell any of this out for you!!” 

“Shut up!!” shouted Hamazura, face twisting. “That’s how our Level Zero leader, Ritoku Komaba, lived his life, and he just got killed earlier today. Trying to protect the weak, even though it wasn’t his place! In the end, we can’t do the same amazing things as him. If back-alley dropouts like us tried to do what he did, society would just look down their noses at us!!” 

“Is that right? But he had something that you don’t. I don’t know what kind of person he was, but his world must have been a lot bigger than yours! Isn’t that why he fought until the end without running away? To protect his own, without calling them weak! Did people really look down their noses at Komaba? I bet he fought and died for it. He tried to protect his own even if it meant dying! That was why he was revered in Skill-Out, right? Unlike you!!” 

“How dare you…” 

A few heavy words escaped Hamazura’s lips. 

The words seemed to be teeming with filth. 

“How dare you talk down to me like that! You’re a Level Zero! You don’t have any real strength! How dare you act so high-and-mighty!!” 

Hamazura regripped his police baton and charged in, his legs trembling. 

Kamijou clenched his fist. 

He wasn’t scared of this guy anymore. 

Now that he’d peeled away the monster’s skin, this was all he was. 

“You haven’t been mocked because you lack power. And I’ll prove it to you right now.” 

Ignoring Misuzu as she tried to stop him, Kamijou took an intentional step forward. 

Not even thinking about the baton headed his way, he simply gripped his own fist more tightly. 

“This is the difference between you and me! You can do something about those stupid illusions yourself, you ass!!” 

A dull wham rang out. 

The police baton and the fist each slammed into their respective targets. Blood spilled from cracked foreheads, and both of them wobbled as they lost their balance. 

But only one of them fell. 

The other would never fall. 

11 

Kamijou wanted to just go back to his dorm and sleep, but Misuzu insisted his blood loss was awful and not to be trifled with, so he ended up waiting for an ambulance. A big reason for his initial refusal, as pathetic as it sounded, was that the medical fees and hospital bill would strain his finances. 

With that, he was now lying in a stretcher, the first stage in getting into the ambulance. Along with the ambulance crew wearing white helmets was, for some reason, Misuzu, who was peeking out at him. 

“Academy City really isn’t safe after all. Well, I guess no city is safe. Maybe there’s nowhere in the country we can safely leave our children.” 

Kamijou couldn’t hear much of what Misuzu said over the clattering of the stretcher’s wheels. 

“…To tell the truth, I came to bring Mikoto back.” 

But those words, for whatever reason, rang oddly clearly. 

Misuzu’s eyes lowered. “It’ll get dangerous if a war starts. The news said Academy City is safer than any other city in Japan, but we could just flee overseas in that case. It’s a shame about the university I attend, but I’ll have to take an extended absence. I could take a year off just fine anyway, and I don’t have any intention to quit yet—I was serious about writing that report, though.” 

She said that with a laugh. It must have come out naturally when she looked at Kamijou’s face. 

“But, well, I’m more at ease now.” 

Before Kamijou could ask about what, she continued. 

“In the end, my problem is the same as his, from before. No matter where we run, nowhere is truly safe. People in those other places can change their minds all they like. Which means, instead of carelessly changing where that girl lives, it might be safer to put her near a kid like you.” 

In the meantime, they reached the ambulance. Kamijou felt a little shaking near his back; maybe they were folding in the legs under the stretcher. 

The ambulance would probably leave immediately. 

Misuzu, perhaps realizing that as well, got to her point and spoke it quickly. “Anyway, I’m saying that if kids like you will protect Mikoto, there should be no problem at all.” 

The stretcher with Kamijou on it was loaded into the ambulance. 

At first he’d only been vaguely listening to what Misuzu was saying, but he finally frowned. 

Kids…? Plural? 

Before he could ask about it, the ambulance’s back doors slammed shut, and that irritatingly loud siren started to blare.