Chapter 2: Crowds

19:33 PM (Japan Time), Wednesday January the 17th…

"… Ijuuin – kun? Anything over there? Over."

"No, sir. Nothing. Blues?"

"No anomalies insofar, Enzan – sama. No Virus signature. No Navi in the public is doing anything odd. No strange data traffic."

"Like they'd do that, anyway… They must use normal 3G or 4G or carrier signal to send messages through some app… Maybe WhatsApp… Or Twitter, Facebook or Telegram…"

"The PSB told us one agent had bought a ticket to come see the match but for safety reasons they can't tell us the seat or the name. But they'll let us know if something odd happens around him or her."

Enzan was sitting on a seat on a baseball stadium while wearing a black cap with the name OSAKA on the front plus sunglasses and a grayish trench coat: he was speaking in a hushed tone over a wireless microphone he had on and listening to Oda over a wireless earphone on the left ear: the noise from the game and the spectators helped camouflage his voice: Enzan was constantly scanning his row and the closest ones.

"How does the culprit plan to assault the PSB agent? All corridors are under watch and it's impossible to snipe from outside the stadium. Problem is if the culprit's sitting next to the PSB agent and has a silenced gun: can kill without those around noticing and then discreetly leave with the crowd once the game ends… It's only been 30 minutes… And it can last some hours… I hope the PSB are keeping their eyes on their agent…"

"Let us hope so."

"That info that Slur sent to Chief Sorodo about that fake manslaughter site doesn't help: the culprit could do that for all we know. Yet the stadium was inspected in detail during Monday, yesterday and this dawn and nothing strange has been found. The culprit knew that by warning us on Monday we'd have the time to search for that."

"Hmmm? Wait, Enzan – sama… I'm picking up a short-length radio wave."

"What is it?"

"Judging by the frequency… A walkie-talkie… And it's not the ones the police stationed here use either…"

"Can you intercept the data?"

"I'm on it, sir…"

KZZZZZZZ!

"Whoa!"

"Huh?"

A loud static sound suddenly rang out and the main LCD screen displaying the game suddenly got filled with static: a machine-distorted chuckle rang out and the image got restored to show a strange character.

This character had a white drama mask, a purplish hat with a reddish edge and a red robe over the neck and the shoulders.

"I am Hell's Puppeteer… This is not a show. Listen, traitor hiding within this crowd! You have nowhere to hide to… Repent for your sins with your flesh… Or this stadium gets annihilated." The figure called out: their voice was distorted by a device.

"There's no Navi signature, sir… It seems to be a pre-recorded video hidden beforehand in the servers, sir." Blues reported.

"Heck."

"You have time until the game ends. If you do not appear… It matters not. You will die today. One way or another. Foolish crowds… You would rather do nothing useful instead of contributing to the glory of the Grand Master, He who rests beyond the void…"

"By all the… That's the Shadow Nova pragma!" Enzan cursed as he recognized the wording.

"But maybe it's a red herring, Enzan – sama."

"I know some hounds are hiding here. It matters not. Your efforts will be in vain. Feel the anger of the citizens, sink into shame and dishonor and die like the fools you all are. No… The pigs that you are. Meaningless pigs who can only make loud noises…"

"Say that again!"

"Bring it on, punk!"

"You got in the way of baseball!"

"Devil. The public's starting to get annoyed." Enzan cursed.

"Maybe the goal is to create a turmoil to kill the PSB agent and easily slip away?"

"Hey! You! Shut up. You're loud and stupid." Some voices within the public grumbled.

"STUPID! ME! Say that again!"

Several spectators began to stand up from the seats and yell at nearby spectators: the stadium security rushed towards there to try to stop a brawl from beginning: the character in the screen was silent and didn't move either.

"It's still playing, though…" Blues warned.

"Maybe this pause is calculated to…?"

"A customer in Gate 8, Row 14, Seat 10 has collapsed! Medical staff: hurry over there!" A voice rang out from the PA speakers.

"What's the status?" Someone asked over the police radio circuit.

"No bleeding and no visible wounds yet… Huh? The right side of the shirt has three parallel scratches… And superficial cuts on the flesh too but very, very thin." Someone else reported.

"Strange. In any case. Bring them to the corridor and wait for the medical staff."

"Roger, sir."

"Hmpf! Killing them in one attack is too sweet. They need to suffer, to agonize, to struggle…" The video began to speak again.

"Devil. So they managed to pull it off." Enzan grumbled.

"Beware, you pigs. There's a hunter here come to reap your pitiful flesh and sweat and blood."

"Say that again!"

"Punk!"

"Bastard!"

"Defenders of stability? I laugh at you. Herd of powerless humans… You are powerless when facing a power from beyond the Great Void…"

"And he's taunting Golden Star… again."

"I checked again and there indeed is no – one in the control room."

"What about the earlier signal?"

"I didn't have time to decode it before it ceased. But if we wait maybe it'll be emitted again. I think it's what activates and stops that video."

"Alright. Ijuuin here… What's the status of the customer?"

"Still unconscious. But heartbeats, blood pressure and respiration are all at normal level. They'll be taking them to the hospital for a quick checkup just in case." Oda replied.

"Is it the PSB agent?"

"Beware, heirs of a cursed crown. Your kindred is doomed to be exiled from this world into another world."

"Shut up, punk! Stop sayin' nonsense! Aho!" Someone with with Kansai accent grumbled.

"I know it. That there is someone who believe it is a grand player… but they are small fry by now."

"Who's small fry~?"

This Kansai accent… I think I've heard it somewhere before. Grand player…? Ah! I remember…

He looked 3 rows below his and recognized Aragoma Torakichi standing and waving his right arm at the screen along with some other customers.

Aragoma Torakichi… Operator of King Man… Haven't seen the guy in a while… Wait. Does that mean that…?

"Maybe the culprit hacked the personal info of each spectator."

"Is that so, Enzan – sama?"

"Maybe they chose a seat where there would be tall people: maybe they're not that tall and they thought of using others to hide their presence… Investigate the surroundings of the PSB agent's seat and the customers there… Maybe one of them is the culprit…"

"Now that you mention it, sir… The signal came from approximately the same area but I couldn't close in further than 15 meters… So there is a 15 meter margin of error…" Blues explained.

"I see. Then again the culprit won't be so stupid to buy the seat online with his or her real name. It'll surely be a fake name. But it'll take a while to figure that out too. And we can't detain anyone without evidence."

"That could be another of the culprit's aims, too."

"Ijuuin – kun? It'd seem the collapsed customer was indeed attacked. The angle of those wounds and the shape suggest that 3 bullets scratched across the length of their ribcage and produced a shock that knocked them out… They're trying to see where the bullets could've ended up at…"

"…The hounds are closing into you, herd of pigs…! Farewell!"

"The signal again…! I've narrowed it down a bit more… 10 meter margin of error… Can't get closer because it's already gone…!" Blues gasped.

The police agents must be searching for the bullets… They may find the bullets but the culprit will be harder… I'm sure they've got the means to dispose of the gun… The opponent is too dangerous for my taste!

20:09 PM (Japan Time)…

"… Phew. This is Ijuuin… Sorry for cutting contact… An urgency popped out, sir…"

"I see. We know where the bullets are at but we can't retrieve them now: we don't want to start a scandal."

"Where?"

"In the field's ground. They were shot in an angle that would only hit the agent's body and then continue straight into the ground to stab there: none of the players have noticed anything."

Enzan exited the men's restrooms and resumed radio contact with Oda: he listened to his explanation and rubbed his chin.

"You're Ijuuin, right?" Someone suddenly asked.

"Huh? Yeah."

He turned, surprised, to see a guy standing there and who seemed to have come from one of the stairs leading to the spectators seats.

This guy was about a meter and eighty tall or taller and he seemed to be on his 20s.

His hair was black in coloring and kept a neatly combed manner while his eyes' irises were blood red.

He wore a simple long-sleeved thick navy blue t-shirt, a black leather belt, jeans and brown hiking boots.

"Darkus Mors." He announced.

"Darkus Mors?" Enzan frowned.

"Shunoros… Chut." He ordered.

Enzan understood and Mors began to look around in a mistrusting manner as if fearing someone could be overhearing them: he stepped into the restroom and checked all of the stalls' doors as if there was a mike there but there was nothing.

"Doesn't seem to be bugged. Alright."

"Prince Kuroban?" Enzan asked in a whisper.

"You can skip the "Prince". It's but a hereditary title. And that of the "cursed crown" was a taunt to my organization. That man is no commoner."

"… I see." Enzan seemed to realize something.

"I see you're getting my point. Yeah. They know too much. That knowledge could be dangerous. But then again it doesn't mean that they know about "they"…" Mors AKA Kuroban whispered.

"The PSB agent was shot."

"So that was a PSB agent. I knew they had to be here for some reason but…"

"Thought Slur had told you."

"No. Legato warned me through one of my men that something dangerous could happen there. It'd seem Slur's in a terrible mood and hardly wants to talk to anyone. What's more: she's been absent for over 24 hours. I guess where she's gone to and so does Legato but… It could have a bad effect on the morale. Maybe that's part of the culprit's goals: maybe they realized that one of the few weaknesses Golden Star's Navis have is… morale." He grumbled.

"Gotcha. What do you make out of that outfit? Ring a bell?" Enzan asked him.

"No. Not at all. Then again I'm a foreigner so if this is something of ancient Japan then it's unlikely that I'd know."

"You've got a point. Maybe it's taken from kabuki or noh, the classical Japanese musical drama…" Enzan rubbed his chin.

"But many character in both types of plays paint their faces white or wear masks so it'll be hard to close into anything."

"I know. It's but a hypothesis." Kuroban admitted.

"Were it so easy…"

"Huh? Ah!"

They spotted the person that had been showing up on the screen: the rest of the outfit consisted on a plain large bluish robe and white gloves for the hands: the person made a reverence and then threw a blue rose at their feet but they hardly paid attention because both began to chase the subject.

"Police! Stop the funky dress guy! It's the culprit!"

"Halt! Stop!"

"Hmpf!"

The culprit headed for one set of stairs leading to the lower floor and a security staff man drew a service revolver which he aimed at the right of the right foot: the culprit simply flung the left arm and threw a red rose that stabbed the man's right arm below the elbow and above the wrist: the sudden pain made the man let go of the gun and the culprit tackled asides with the left shoulder to then run down the stairs followed by Enzan since Kuroban had stopped to check on the man: Enzan spotted the culprit heading further down towards the parking lot so he followed there: the culprit headed for a black van the engine of which was already on and into the cargo space since the back doors were open: Enzan suddenly felt something stabbing his right leg below the hip and he collapsed because he tripped and fell face-down into the ground, skidding: the van raced away, breaking the barrier on the process.

"T-this is Ijuuin…! Black van…! From parking…! Culprit…!"

"Ijuuin – kun! Report position!" Oda ordered.

"West wing parking lot… Near exit… Sector 5… Something stabbed my right leg… It's numb!" He reported between pants.

"Enzan – sama: don't move, sir!" Blues warned.

"Medical staff, security staff! Move it! Warn the Traffic Department to set barricades! Secure security imagery! We need that van's plate NOW!"

"Roger!"

"Kuh…! My right leg…!" Enzan hissed.

"Ijuuin! Are you alright?" Kuroban rushed there.

"No! My right leg's numb."

"A white rose… And it'd seem it was coated in some poison or another… Let's hope it's not a big deal… Same as the security man… Stay still and don't move the leg." Kuroban picked a white rose using a handkerchief.

"Shit! I'm sure that… Carried the disguise on a bag… And changed in the restroom…!" Enzan hissed.

"Calm down. But, really… Roses as weapons… Talk about totally bad taste…" Kuroban grumbled as he looked at it.

"It's a real rose?"

"So it'd seem. The forensics will determine that."

"Ijuuin – kun!" Oda rushed in with some of the medical staff and some policemen.

"Please send this to the forensics."

"And you are…?"

"Kuroban Howsad…"

"Ah! Young Kuroban… Alright. Is the ambulance here?"

An ambulance came in and the staff climbed down: they placed Enzan atop a stretcher and brought him inside of the ambulance: they secured him in place and one of the medics pulled down his jeans to be able to look at the wound: it was slightly bleeding.

"Hum. We'll have to take a sample for detailed analysis. For the time being let's administer serum just in case." He concluded.

"Don't feel guilty for this, Ijuuin – kun. You've done more than you could. Leave the rest to us and rest." Oda commanded.

"It is too strong?" One of the male nurses asked Enzan since he hissed.

"From time to time, yes…!"

"Some morphine would do as well. Alright. Let's go!"

"I'll drop by later, Ijuuin – kun." Oda told him.

The ambulance closed the doors and left: Oda and Kuroban sighed while Oda glanced at the rose placed inside of the plastic bag to store evidence: he handed it to one of the policemen who saluted and rushed out.

"I knew we were up against someone dangerous but… They're very bold as well… This is going to be far more complicated than we thought it was going to be, young Kuroban…"

"Yeah… But, nevertheless… That speed and precision… Maybe that wasn't human but a Net Navi…"

"Hum. Maybe some copies of the stolen "Copy Roid" schematics are still floating around… We thought that by combining our strengths we'd managed to delete all of them yet…"

"Maybe that "someone" has printed them."

"You've got a point. Heck. Were it not for those smug women then those schematics would still be safely stored…!"

"No use crying over spilled milk, Superintendent Oda… Here's a number to contact me: I'll keep you updated if something were to pop out…"

Kuroban took out a couple of sunglasses from the right pocket.

"Please tell me if Ijuuin recovers."

"Of course. Take care, young Kuroban."

"Thank you. We'll all need to."

Oda fumed and drew some checking gum to begin chewing it.

By Merton's hat and beard. I'm not going to let the rascal who hurt one of my men run loose. My word! I'll expose you true colors yet!

21:21 PM (Japan Time)…

"… Huff. Mademoiselle won't be happy…"

"I am turning that predictable, President Hades?"

"Huh! I'm sorry."

"Do not mind it. You were being realistic. I am not in the best of moods but I can solve that later. I heard about the commotion. Has that van been found?"

"Not yet."

"Hmpf."

A man had been sitting inside of a room and mumbling aloud until someone suddenly appeared there.

This room was an office room containing a desk and visitor chairs plus a set of three metallic drawers to store files yet the only piece of non-practical furniture was a canvas hanging from the furthest wall and having an oil-based drawing of a four-mast windjammer sailing into the sunset.

There was an open laptop computer placed atop the desk.

"Such a fancy vehicle…!"

"But…"

The man, sitting on a chair behind the desk, seemed to be on his late 20s and about a meter and eighty-five centimeters tall: his hair was neatly combed and brownish in coloring.

His eyes' irises were brown in coloring and he was clean shaven.

His clothes consisted on a black suit coupled with black tie and black quality pants: he looked like a typical businessman.

A gray trench coat was hanging from a perch set in the right wall near the door along with a brown hat having a black band around it.

"What."

"They could've hidden in a garage close by, changed clothes and walked away…"

"Hmpf. And here I thought they were runaway clowns from a circus."

"Mademoiselle Slur… Anger will not solve anything."

The other person speaking with him was the Net Navi known as Slur: she was hovering a couple centimeters over the ground and her arms were aiming at the ground: her face depicted pure annoyance and so did her glare which seemed to kill, even.

"Then what is the answer? Kanou Shade."

"The answer is patience. And to investigate the surroundings of the stadium: know the distance between the stadium and the first checkpoint that was assembled…"

"There could be tens of parking lots there… It will take forever." She fumed and lifted her arms to cross them.

"I thought Monsieur XY would have helped to…"

"How do you know that I went to see XY?"

"You did not go see Monsieur Kuroban. Who else?" He argued while shrugging.

"Hmpf. Fine. At least that little mouse is under XY's custody and will not snoop around anymore." She fumed.

"Mademoiselle… Anger only clouds judgment. One needs to stop and rationally think… By imaging what the culprit thinks when they need to escape…"

"Hmpf. What a waste of time."

"Fine. Then do it your way, Mademoiselle." Kanou sighed and seemed to realize it was pointless to try to convince her.

"Hmpf. Fine… Anyway. Have the usual fools done it again?"

"They've behaved insofar. Everyone is just so tense."

"Tense?"

"Your displays of anger make everyone shiver: they fear that you will vent it off with your "strict training"…"

"Is that so? And here I thought they were laughing at me."

"Why would they? They know your power is clearly above theirs."

"Hmpf. I just do not feel like it as of late. Fools insulting my intelligence…"

"It's like dealing with a bully. The less attention you pay to them the sooner they'll give up."

"Hmmm… Now that you mention it…" She rubbed her right chin but her mood didn't change.

"Now, how about you have a proper rest? I think you lack some rest. Even you need to stop your processes for a while: I think that you are pushing your body's info processing abilities to the limits. You are not perfect, Mademoiselle. No – one and nothing is perfect. Not even the Universe itself…" Kanou insisted with a sigh.

"That I know. That unlike that fool that rebuilt my body… I do not think that I am perfect. My "predecessor" was not perfect either. I will not commit the same mistakes they did."

"There. Can we have a truce for a few hours, Mademoiselle? I think that after some hours of sleep mode you will feel refreshed and in a better mood to think better about what we need to do."

"Hum. Fine. I suppose there is no harm in trying to do so. Switch off the wireless adapter of your PC: I shall rest there and I want to be isolated so that no – one can bother me."

Slur's body suddenly became a mass of yellowish energy: it twisted in the air to jump inside of a purplish "portal" that had formed out of nowhere and vanish inside of it: the PC screen's lit up and a displayed popped up showing Slur standing atop a square cyan platform set on the center of a Cyber World made of several rings which rotated or followed a path on the background while larger ones were built atop and below the platform.

"I built this section to be isolated from other memory allocation and processes so you can run them while I am resting."

"Understood. Looks like I was able to convince her somehow. Oh boy. I've been around with her to know she can be incredibly prideful but…"

He stretched and stood up to head for the room's door: he exited into a metallic corridor with armored doors on both sides each having a control panel attached to the left: he headed right, up the corridor, and ended in a wide square cafeteria-like room: Dark Man, who'd been one of the "Dark Four Heavenly Kings", was the master standing behind the counter and humming a tune as he wiped some glasses.

"Good evening, Mr. Dark Man."

"Ah. President Hades. Do you desire something?"

"Some green tea if I may."

"Understood. Please take a seat."

"Mr. Burner Man is not around?"

"No. He had a meeting with Needle Man and Video Man." Dark Man explained.

"Alright. Who's in charge of deck security?"

"Cosmo Man and Freeze Man."

"And of surrounding surveillance?"

"Pharaoh Man."

"As long as he's not absent-minded again…" He muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Ah. It's nothing. I feel rather tense… Don't mind me."

He sat down on a wooden seat next to one of the round wooden tables and distractedly glanced at a printed menu.

"If possible… I'd like some udon as well."

"But of course, sir."

Kanou sighed and took out a pencil from his right pocket: he began to distractedly spin it using 3 of his right hand's fingers.

It had to be done. Someone had to come bring some order to this nation before it descended into chaos. Mr. Blues and Mr. Rock Man alone wouldn't have been enough to deal with so many strong enemies… Fortunately most of them only wanted to challenge them… And us…

"I apologize for the wait. The green tea and the udon, sir." Dark Man brought them and calmly placed them on the table.

"Thank you."

Dark Man calmly returned to his post and brought up a set of dishes that had just been cleansed by the washing machine: he began to go over them to make sure they were clean enough while Kanou calmly ate his dinner.

Something's bugging me. I feel like I'm overlooking something important. Maybe the tension and Mademoiselle's moods have made me forget about it. I could ask Mr. Zero to search… Good udon… It's been a while since I last had some… Sometimes I feel like soba or ramen feel better… This green tea fragrance… It calms the spirit and makes the tension go away… I should have more of this and less Coca-Cola… Else I'll build up needless kilos which I need to reduce by intense work-out on the onboard gym…

He finished his dinner and Dark Man picked it up: he headed for the counter and paid for it before heading back down the corridor and past his office room (labelled "PRESIDENT HADES' OFFICE") to the room next door: he inputted a password to step into a small bedroom that had only a single bed, a small table to the left with a lamp atop it, a cupboard and a some space saved as a bathroom: there was a bullseye with a curtain set atop it above the bed: the light was some bulbs set on the ceiling: the ground, walls and ceiling were metallic.

Huff. I feel tired… What is it? What am I overlooking? It is the key to victory…? I don't know…