“A year ago, the family of one of this headquarters’ executives went missing. Naturally, since the executive himself is an awakener, he didn’t just leave it to the police—he investigated independently. His conclusion was that it couldn’t have been a mere disappearance, nor a simple kidnapping.”
Yet, the exact chain of events remained completely unknown. What was certain, however, was that this was no ordinary case. And so, the Japan Headquarters turned to Tsukiko Mano. If even she couldn’t find answers, then the matter was likely unsolvable.
Thus she had uncovered the outline of the incident—along with the chilling result that it had started at least ten years ago.
“In conclusion, the culprit is a monster.”
“Mhm… specifically?”
“With about a 74% probability, it is one of the ‘urban legend’ monsters from Saitama Dungeon No. 4.”
Indeed—the urban legend–type monsters from Saitama No. 4 were infamous for their peculiar powers. Some activated their abilities only under certain conditions, others dragged victims into otherworlds.
“Otherworlds… like that Four-Dimensional Hag, then?”
“Exactly. The Four-Dimensional Hag is one example of a monster that creates its own domain. In fact, there are several such monsters in the Dungeon No. 4. And there had already been suspicions that some of them might have survived the old monster disasters.”
“So now that suspicion has been confirmed.”
By nature, when a dungeon overflowed, multiple monsters of the same type could escape. Even if one was slain, others might still be lurking somewhere outside.
In other words, just like the events in Itou, the same sort of thing was happening here. Except this time, the situation was even more serious.
“The otherworld is beginning to encroach upon reality. If Ms. Mano hadn’t succeeded in detecting the leaked magical energy, we might still be oblivious even now.”
Yes, just days ago, Tsukiko had detected the magical trace of an otherworld opening briefly during a human abduction. She had failed to pinpoint the location then, but only recently had she succeeded.
“The location is… Toshima.”
Toshima—a tiny island between Izu Ooshima and Niijima.
In earlier times it had been home to the village of Toshima, but once the seas ceased to belong to humanity, the island was abandoned like so many others.
Ooshima itself still had guarded ships and aircraft, but smaller isles were too costly—and too dangerous—to maintain.
Yet satellite surveys had shown nothing out of the ordinary.
But with Tsukiko’s instruments, they found mana density at levels one would expect only near a dungeon.
“After receiving that report, we immediately dispatched a first recon team by helicopter. But after their initial transmission, all contact was lost.”
Almost certainly they had entered the otherworld, and been trapped there.
The fact that recon specialists had failed to return suggested the enemy force was formidable. Sending another ordinary team would only mean the same fate.
What was needed was someone of ranker class—ideally, a top ranker.
At present, those reachable were the number two “Professor” Tsukiko Mano, the number four “Submarine,” and the number five “Black Witch.”
But Submarine specialized in underwater combat, unsuitable for this case.
The Black Witch had been dispatched to Shikoku days ago at HQ’s request, and couldn’t be recalled.
“…But if Ms. Mano goes, there’s a risk Toshima will end up at the bottom of the sea.”
“My skills… aren’t exactly subtle. I’ll go if you want, but…”
“That won’t do. After reviewing who could handle this, we concluded the most promising candidate was you, Ms. Kogami.”
At that, Aoyama bowed deeply.
“Ms. Kogami, please—we beg you to accept this mission. The Awakener Association will provide every support possible.”
“Very well.”
“Of course, I know full well how unreasonable this is. If you agree, we—pardon, what?”
“I said, very well. I’ll take it.”
“Wha—but, it’s extraordinarily dangerous!”
“Is that not exactly why you’re asking me? Very well. I’d been thinking about these urban legends myself. Consider this fate.”
Inari’s ready acceptance drew a doubtful sound from Tsukiko.
“You ought to think harder. Coming from me, but HQ cases are rarely worth the risk.”
“I admit we often present difficult missions. But that, too, is a mark of our trust.”
“I don’t mind. To be asked, to be entreated—that alone is enough for me to act.”
Whether it was “worth it” or not, Inari had never cared.
Not then, not now. Not ever.
A cry for help was something she could not ignore.