“How did no one notice this!?”
That shout echoed through a conference room at the Japan Headquarters of the Awakener Association. No, rather than a shout, it was closer to a scream of desperation.
After all, the Akabane Port Assault Incident could have easily caused catastrophic damage to the nation’s logistics network, not to mention massive casualties and property loss. Even imagining it was enough to make their faces turn pale.
And if that had happened, where would public outrage be directed? Straight at the Awakener Association.
The Association had access to equipment capable of detecting dungeon appearances. “We didn’t notice” would not be an acceptable excuse. In fact, some media outlets had already begun investigating whether the Association’s response was inadequate.
Which was why the Director-General of the Japan HQ was furious—to an almost unimaginable degree.
That such a disaster occurred during his term? Impossible. It even crossed his mind that someone might have orchestrated this to force him out of his position.
He glared daggers at the head of the Dungeon Management Department, who flinched and stammered.
“Th-this wasn’t intentional!”
“The detection equipment in use at Japan HQ meets global standards! It detects the unique magnetic fields emitted by dungeons. However, if the dungeon is underwater or behind dense obstructions, the detection accuracy drops significantly. Current technology simply can’t overcome this—”
“I KNOW THAT ALREADY!”
The Director slammed his fist on the desk, cutting the explanation short. Of course he knew the specs. That wasn’t the issue.
“It’s a dungeon break, damn it! A monster disaster! In Tokyo Bay, no less! Tell me—what’s the average time from dungeon appearance to a break if left unattended?”
“Well, that depends on—”
“ONE MONTH! That’s how long we failed to detect it! Don’t tell me being underwater is enough to completely avoid detection for that long!”
“I-I can't say it’s impossible...”
The Director felt a headache coming on. If only he could collapse right now and check into the hospital…
Everyone in this room was supposed to be a former elite Awakener, and yet all he saw were cowards concerned only with self-preservation.
No one would meet his eyes. They were all thinking: “As long as I’m not blamed.” If pressed, they’d throw some subordinate under the bus in an instant.
And the Director knew this all too well.
“…Forget it. What’s our media strategy?”
“We’re emphasizing how swiftly the Awakeners responded. Since the only injuries were to the on-site defense squad, we’re highlighting how they put their bodies on the line to buy time.”
“That’s enough. See that the defense squad is compensated generously.”
With that, the Director flipped through a report.
Affiliations:
FoxPhone: Kogami Inari
The Attendant Garment Workshop: Shikishima Eri
These two had been instrumental in resolving the incident. While Eri was well-known, Inari was someone the Director remembered clearly.
No known origin. No registration prior to joining the Association. And her strength? Exceptional. He’d heard reports about “godlike beings” connected to her, though he took those only half-seriously.
Still, given her strength and her cooperation with the Association, her intel couldn’t be dismissed out of hand. The truth would have to be confirmed carefully over time…
“Kogami Inari again, huh? Compared to those Gold Cards we can never track down, she’s way more… wait. White Card?”
He stared wide-eyed at the personal data. A White Card meant a newly registered rookie.
While the timeframe wasn’t completely implausible, based on everything she’d accomplished—and her involvement in this case—there was no way she should still be classified as a rookie.
If the media got wind of this, they’d have a field day.
“Hey, why is this girl still listed as a White Card?”
“Uh—w-well, probably because she hasn’t submitted a rank-up request. Unless it’s the designated update period, the system requires a formal application and review.”
Technically correct. Normally, once sufficient achievements were made, a review could be initiated via request.
But just because the procedure was followed didn’t mean it wasn’t an ethical issue.
If this came to light, the narrative would quickly become, “The Association neglects its heroes.”
“…Fast-track the review. Raise her to the appropriate rank. We don’t need any more trouble.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“And… investigate the Tokyo Bay dungeon immediately. If we fall behind again, it won’t just be the press—we’ll start getting blowback from other Awakeners.”
At that point, the Dungeon Management head would almost certainly be demoted. And worse, it might trigger a chain of political and economic instability. The fragile stability they’d only just begun to enjoy… couldn’t be risked.
“Kogami Inari, huh… I may need to meet her in person.”