There had been little to no warning.
No, that was wrong.
This situation was abrupt.
They spawned from over the horizon with the destruction of a chunk of a national park.
As the shock of a perceived destructive weapon punched through the mountain range, the first line of defense, the base police had been shocked into action.
Woefully under equipped with pistols instead of rifles, the warriors of this world knew something was happening.
But they stood as firm as the concrete beneath their feet.
Their fate, grisly as the men standing post tried to understand what was happening, and even faster than that to formulate a plan.
It was minutes, perhaps seconds stretched out by adrenaline. Their resistance had been blown away like sand caught in a breeze.
Amongst the ruined remains of the paltry resistance was a man no older than 23, crawling through the sands of the desert. The grains ground away at the man's bloodied torso as he tried to pull himself towards some type of shelter, but such a thing escaped the man's weary eyes.
Determination was suffused throughout his being, but he knew with a certain finality that something was just around the metaphorical corner.
His more mundane senses only detect the blinding pain that came with getting impaled with the wreckage of an automobile and being blasted by what had to be magical attacks. One might ask how such a thing would occur in the desert, but the answer was both simple and complicated.
The simple part being the man lived out there, or more accurately, was stationed out there (he really needed to stop being cheeky…). The second part, the more complicated part, was that he was hit by some type of non-physical projectile (Obviously).
Shuttered breath after shuttered breath, the young man by all means had to wonder if this was the end. The man even realized that he even just flashed back despite the short amount of time that it took for him to reach this moment.
He would simply die, on his stomach, crawling away from danger after getting so brutally injured. There would be no great resurrection or awakening a secret bloodline. This wasn't fiction despite being blasted by what looked to be a generic magical girl.
Reality was often not what it appeared to be.
The man's reality was that he was trained. Trained in treating battlefield injuries. Trained in warfare, for what little he managed to do with it here.
He had tried to take control of the tempo of the fight, he had tried to put one of his own back together. He was outsped, and out matched.
Alone now, all he could try to do would be to self-aid his injuries, just behind cover if he could just find something to duck behind.
But there was nowhere safe. No hardened cover, no makeshift barricade. Nothing.
Reality didn't make sense here.
He was dying, nothing had to make sense.
Still, he was sure that at the start of the engagement he was starting to think it was a weird dream brought about by dehydration. What else was there to think when there were what looked to be cosplaying magical girls flying around shooting energy beams, that notion was dismissed when he tried to coordinate precision fire with everyone else.
A few got… vaporized for a lack of a better description, he had gotten a piece of shrapnel through his shoulder after the car not even ten meters away had been blown up, taking some more of the lives of his platoon mates and ruining the remainder of the lives of those who survived.
That, perhaps, should have been the first sign that he might've been out of his league. The second should have been when he had received that energy attack that punched through his flak jacket and left him in this sorry state.
But no, he wanted to be the big damn hero, like this was some type of shitty knockoff fps game. Getting back up though… Well he wouldn't allow himself to stop fighting even if he couldn't withstand it.
Everything had fallen apart afterwards, he was alone. Something else hurt but wasn't sure what. Hell he couldn't say what didn't hurt for that matter.
"Damn how is this trash mob still moving?"
He should've…
Should've…
Unceremoniously, the man perished.
"Nevermind, he's nothing special."
The man saw his body.
Saw the chaos happening around him.
He saw some of his closest friends running around trying to rally.
He saw how the attackers didn't even really focus on any of them despite the amount of concentrated fire on them.
He watched as they left and two of his allies tried to resuscitate his body, wrapping up his probable corpse with an H-bandage as they made to carry him off.
Where they were going he didn't know, he couldn't see.
He was blinded to it.
There was no darkness, but nor was there light. It was beyond his ability to ascribe color to.
Then, beneath him, the world had disappeared in a similar manner.
There was no sensation of moving, but the dead man could sense that he was traveling somewhere. Close, far, adjacent, perpendicular and parallel, all at the same time.
【Welcome, Visitor.】
There were no words for the man to say, for there was no air for him to breathe and expel. Oddly, thoughts didn't move with the same fluidity in this space either.
【Thoughts or language will not work here. This is a space of intent. This space is similar to what the Visitors might call a root. Or a branch of the akashic records.】
「Why」
【The Visitor has picked up how to convey intent. Interesting. Of all the ones brought to this space from this world, this Visitor is the only one to be able to establish communication.】
…
【This System was… implemented… to catalog the casualties of this world. They were to be used as fuel for the desires and intent of the Contractor who has inflicted chaos upon this world. Would this Visitor like to escape such a Fate?】
「Why? Pri…ce」
【The Visitor wishes to know why?】
…
【This System's Master adores conflict. The only ones to survive this System's Master's Contractor's are those with an above average proclivity towards conflict. The type does not matter. The price for this Visitor's continued existence is to create conflict and thrive within it.】
「Conflict. Growth.」
【This Visitor… This Visitor grows quickly. Just an instance ago this Visitor would have surely perished from the energy expenditure of communicating intent. Yes this Visitor is correct. Only through Conflict will the contractor see Growth. Does this Visitor accept the contract?】
「Yes」
≪Excitement.≫
Time resumes. The concept of time resumes. No, it was the concept of perception of time that began for the Contracted Soul. It had a name once, with that name came a preconceived perception of abilities, limitations and growth.
At the moment all of that was gone.
【Would the Contractor like to keep his old body? With all the skills and stats with it? Or would it like to compound its skills and stats to redistribute for the trials ahead?】
With what the new Contractor had, it had to imagine that his total sum might be more than the average person. Considering that before they died they were half way up the enlisted military chain with a fair amount of experience. They also weren't in terrible shape despite dying like a dog.
At the moment it wasn't sure how it knew these things about its origin still but the choice was clear.
「Retention. Familiar. Growth.」
【This Contractor is the prideful type then. Very well. This System is glad the Contractor has Pride in their skills. This will be the Contractor's Curse and Greatest Strength until proven otherwise. The entry before the Contractor is the culmination of the life the Contractor has lived up to this point. Be proud Contractor.】
In front of the freshly minted Contractor was a screen.
【Name: N/A】
【Level: 1】
『HP: 135/135』
『MP: 1/1』
『Str: 3 』
『Agi: 1(1.7)』
『End: 4』
『Int: 3』
『Mag: 2』
『Dex: 4』
『Luk: 3』
【Skills】
【Small unit leadership: The result of trust placed into one's hands. People trust that you can lead a small group of people up to the size 12 other individuals in any task given. +25% obedience to those beneath your command.】
【Expert Rifleman: This is your rifle there many others like it but this one is yours. You must master it as you master yourself. +40% long distance aiming with long guns (300m-600m), +75% speed and accuracy with short distance aiming(300m).】
【Expert Pistol: Slow steady squeeze, slow is smooth, smooth is fast, let it surprise you… +5% long distance aiming(25m-100m), +65% short distance accuracy(25m).】
【We All Lift Together: Whether its training in the field or training in the gym, all members gain 5% bonus experience.】
【CQB Hand to Hand (Novice) 4/50: Surviving a battlefield and maneuvering is your bread and butter. Theoretically. A below average martial artist.】
【Perseverance Lvl 5/100: Is that… all… you got? Your entire life you've been against the odds from Premature birth to Joining the military when going through an Asthma attack. +5% chance to resist stun. +1% auto resist knockout. +.01% to survive a killing blow.】
「Name? Blank」
The question should be obvious, what had happened to the Man's name? Why wasn't it listed on the screen?
【A name was not a part of the Contract. The Contractor is about to begin a journey. One vaguely familiar but do not be mistaken. It is not a path the Contractor is familiar with. This is the price Pride had cost.】
Wha-
【Create conflict.】
With that the world without perception fell away. Description of the environment became possible to the man who had spawned into a new place and time.
Thoughts had whipped through the nameless man's mind. Frustration, wrath, confusion, and more, all of it falling away as he took in his new environment.
There was a green tint to the world for lack of a better term, with a heavy scent of iron piercing his newly reacquainted sense of smell. Looking around him in the next thing that struck the man as bizarre was the coffins standing about. There weren't many of them but they stood taller than the man who stood 6ft.
Each of the coffins the man had was faced with the sensation of looking at something mimicking the uncanny valley effect despite the lack of hominid features. It added to the eerie and heavy silence that clung to the hushed city with there being no other soul in sight.
At least that was what the man assumed he was looking at, from mascots standing outside in eternal vigil to shop signs above doors.
Walking forward the man had flinched briefly upon hearing his steps echo so loudly into the night, bouncing off walls and down alleyways before eventually fading out. Idly the man realizes that he can read the signs around despite them being written in a language-Japanese, that he didn't know before.
"Wild duck burger..?", the man says, testing out the language, it rolled smoothly enough but still felt foreign on his tongue. The difference between being fluent in a language and speaking it, the man chalked up the sensation up to.
Odd restaurant names and language usage aside, the displaced man walked through the silent city and might've been as though he was walking through a dream, even when he found what the source of the smell of iron was; blood. It was unnatural but there was something about all this that left the stranger in queer position regarding the absurdity of the world around him.
That wasn't to say the nameless Contractor was sure he was awake, but had he stood in silent nights before they were silent in the way that everything was heavy and nothing seemed to travel as far as it should. This was a hollow silence, with an echo and finality that reminded him of death.
Seeing though he had just been acquainted with the nonperception of unlife, he liked to think he had a fairly decent idea of how that worked.
Walking through the darkened streets the man was sure he could almost hear something, or rather someone else walking at the same time.
Following the noise took careful listening since even the sound of his own heartbeat had even been enough to throw off the sound.
As the man had told himself, this place was just too eerie. Unnatural, but this was his mission to find and seek conflict. But up to now all he's been left to do is wander about the silent city and hope for the best.
Right as he rounded the corner where he last heard the other footsteps the world shifted. The green tint had disappeared, the lights shifted back on with a flicker.
A car passed by the foreign man, its headlights briefly startling the man before realizing that for all that happened light shining on him was the least of his current worries. As if to remind him the sounds of the few others doing their business after midnight filtered through the air.
Suddenly a cold breeze whips the man, who out instinct shoves his hands into his pockets. Immediately his left hand makes contact with something he wasn't aware of a moment ago.
For that matter, he's not wearing the clothes he was wearing when he died either. He was dressed in something approaching suit attire, or more accurately… a school uniform with a symbol on the right breast, that he vaguely recognized from somewhere but couldn't place.
Dragging his attention to it the nameless Contractor looked towards the brochure he had pulled out, it being the address to some apartment complex with a map and a schedule to a school called Gekkoukan High.
…
The apartment was completely in the opposite direction according to the hand scrawled directions on the map.
"Fuck." The man sighed out, "I thought I was finished with school by now…"
In some way it wasn't very surprising, high school was dramatic in itself and God, or rather whatever mysterious Benefactor placed him here knows how much Conflict could be sown from here.
"I mean drama was never my thing but I suppose that playing the devil here can't be too hard…"
It felt like it should be odd to say something like that but he had no real past experiences to work with. Despite keeping his body and objective knowledge it was like he had no real preference for anything.
He had no real qualms against stirring up trouble either.
Letting out a sigh the now student quickly made his way back across the nearly sleeping city. Finding the apartment hadn't taken long since it hadn't been too far from the mall complex that he started from but being in an unfamiliar area always ate up navigation time.
After slipping through a couple tight barricades and avoiding some people standing around listlessly in something resembling a high, the man(?) found what was supposed to be his apartment. It didn't amount to being much more than a studio apartment.
A dirty studio apartment.
Shattered glass and other forms of used garbage had littered the place leaving it hard to tell where he could and couldn't step, even more so with the flickering dull light in the room.
But given that he was unceremoniously dropped here being given something that looked to be paid off indefinitely was better than the alternative. Even if the Contractor had thought this place looked like it had been used as a trap house.
Kicking the garbage aside as the man made his way over to his new bed which thankfully was still in the plastic.
Abruptly before the now exhausted man can sit down he tripped over some, a suitcase.
Sighing, the reluctant student opens it to see what's within.
A screen quickly flashes before his eyes.
『Luk check』
『Luk: 3』
『Reward Threshold (100 - Luk*3)= 91』
『Generating number… 91』
『Congratulations』
『Rewards:
x 1 full tang combat knife
x 1 no tilt knife throwing manual
x 1 Evoker』
Besides the "rewards" (rewards for what?) There had been a few changes of clothes including a few turtle necks that he might try to get away with wearing instead of the collared shirt.
The first two rewards themselves had been exactly what they had been said to be. A knife, and a manual.
The third, a pistol. A matte black 1911 style pistol, with a blue glowing section on the magazine well.
"Fuck yeah!"
Quickly the man made to disassemble it. Only to find that while the slide assembly came off, there was no magazine release… Hell there was so many differences about it he was surprised that he was even able to take it apart.
…
How was the gun supposed to work then? Did the Contractor really get handed a gun with unlimited ammo? Was he supposed to become a school shooter or something?
"That's lame, I mean I could do it, it would be easy to farm conflict from that, but still."
The name of the pistol was Evoker, "evoke" what is the question. If he pointed this at someone, would they be forced to tell him the truth?
It wasn't like he was willing to pull the trigger to see what happens though. While he was fairly sure it was chambered in 45 Acp by looking at the barrel, that didn't necessarily mean he was trying to see what a gun with potentially unlimited ammo would do when shot.
For all he knew they could be charged. For all he knew this could be a magic gun. He'd just have to find somewhere secluded to practice with it…
Casually the man picks up the knife and unsheathes the black nylon, and runs the tip of his finger across the edge. Then firmly grasping the blade, he tests its edge against one of the pages of the brochure he had.
"Hm, sharp enough." The edge had sheared through the paper easily.
Picking up the manual, the entertained contractor flipped open to the first page.
"No tilt knife throwing and you. A dumbshits guide to throwing bladed objects without having them tumble mid toss."
『You have started reading the Skill Manual: No Tilt Knife Throwing.』
『Upon completion and comprehension of the Manual the Skill: No Tilt Knife Throwing will be granted. Recommended Dex: 4 Int: 1』
With the popup coming and going the Contractor was definitely interested to see just what would come of finishing it. Especially since the book wasn't that long and he had the required stats that he needed in order to use the book with passing skill.
Question was whether or not gaining new stat points would be something that is easily attainable or not. Hell, even the metric of how stat points worked was something that was unknown to the foreigner at this point.
"How do I even pull up the interface in the first place?"
Verbalizing the question made no difference at this point in time. So there was no point in making a concentrated effort in trying to figure out the mechanics at this point.
Not to mention there was school tomorrow.
"Fuck."
Waking up on time even without getting a full night's rest was something that the man was well familiar with at this point. So 5 hours was a good rest in his book. It goes without saying that he would need the extra time to get to school punctually.
After taking care of his morning hygiene the young man had found a wallet with a black credit card and passport for him detailing his arrival. He still couldn't read his name there despite knowing that everything in there was his. It would do him well since he definitely had no money and he wasn't going to trust this trashy apartment to have anything good in the refrigerator.
By the time he was walking out the door it wasn't any later than 7am.
Which is to say early enough to have a bearing on what is happening before other people try to drown him in expectations.
Arriving at Gekkoukan High, the newcomer definitely felt like the world around him was staring at him, after all it wasn't like that he looked japanese. Hell at the moment he didn't know his name but he knew that he didn't belong here.
Unfortunate but unless he was willing to slaughter people, here and now that wouldn't change. But doing that wouldn't help him out at all anyways. No, people were more valuable alive because he could ultimately continue to get more conflict out of them. There is no conflict that dead people can have after all.
Eventually arriving at the teacher faculty office the man knocked on the door before entering.
"Ah, you must be one of the exchange students that we just got, Faer Jaecar, is that right? Boy that is a tough name to pronounce. A bit ominous as well." A man with shoulder blade length chestnut hair called out to the young man with a light chuckle.
Stepping further the now named man Faer Jaecar, stepped for a polite but firm handshake.
"My name is Ikutsuki Shuji, or I suppose as you would be used to Shuji Ikutsuki." Shuji, reciprocated with something like a dead grasp allowing the younger man to control the handshake.
…
"I would like to welcome you to this school, even if the circumstances leading up to you being here are well… -let's both agree to it not being polite conversation. I'm glad that your records show that you like to be early and I'm really hoping to see if we can get you in the spirit of what our school is about."
There was a lot to unpack but thankfully at the very least he had a name now: Faer Jaecar… Wandering Hunter… It wasn't what he was expecting given what he thought he knew of his origins but maybe it would grow to fit.
"Right, then Mr. Ikutsuki, I look forward to attending and getting my assignment done as quickly as possible."
"Very good, Ms. Kirijo should be around to show you around the school soon. Please, if there's anything you or the others from your company need please let me know, or let Mitsuru know to arrange a meeting for us."
"It shouldn't be much of an issue. I'm here for results first and foremost."
Then from behind the two men opened the door once again as a young woman with wine red hair and a stern disposition about her entered the faculty room. Wasting only a moment to see that it was only the two men in the room, she turns sharply meeting Faer's eyes.
"You must be the older transfer student, we didn't receive you last night so I assume that your superiors have your lodgings in order for the foreseeable future."
While he may have been considerably shorter than the man, she still projected the presence of someone who commands attention. It suited her well, the Contractor turned student thought to himself.
"Yes, that's precisely right."
"Chairman, if you'll excuse us."
"Please go right ahead, I need to call Ms. Toriumi anyways. I have some things I need to discuss with her before the opening ceremony."
Turning about with trained grace the poised woman led the way out of the faculty room.
"I am not my father's company. However, I will not tolerate the U.N.D.I.T and all associated parties interfering with Kirijo Group operations."
There was obviously some by play happening here that was related to the paper trail that Faer had co opted into upon his arrival. But seeing how his mission was Conflict, and this Kirijo woman was his first and only point of contact for information he should at least hear her out.
"I am also not the U.N.D.I.T I am a Contractor first, if it helps my mission then I'll play ball. But I want to get a pulse on things before I start messing with any balances."
"As to be expected from a Contractor. You are always after your own bottom line."
"Should I not be? The only one coming to my aid is me. It's expected that I know my own limits."
Without looking at the Contractor the icy woman had started walking, Faer picking up on her intent to lead walked to her side.
"I suppose I cannot begrudge you that much. I've read your file, what parts are not blacked out that is. The moment you get any smart ideas I'll catch on."
"Be that as it may, Ms. Kirijo if you don't want me getting any smart ideas it'd be best to tell me exactly what is the relationship you have with U.N.D.I.T, whether you like or not I am here on their dime, until this all gets solved. So play it to me straight; what's going on here."
Walking through the hallways had attracted the attention of the general populous.
"Woah, is that an American? He's so tall!"
"What's he doing here?"
"He's talking to Kirijo-senpai!"
"Of course she would be interested in a foreigner like him, he's-"
"Do you think he's any good at basketball?"
"I didn't think that my presence would be such an issue. I apologize for putting you on the spot."
It wasn't like he could actually talk to her whilst they were surrounded by so many people, without letting something sensitive out.
Then again… no it would be best to abstain for now. There would be better opportunities later.
『+1 Conflict Point』
"Interesting…"
"Is something the matter?" The heiress asked.
"Nothing I would say here."
"Very well, we are almost at the auditorium, as Student Council President it wouldn't be too strange for me to be speaking with a new student."
There was an unspoken order there, that Faer wasn't willing to dispute, despite being able to practically sense the ice in the woman's veins and her hostility towards him, he still needed to learn more about this situation.
Arriving in the auditorium it was clear to see that this had been something that had been planned for ahead of time and having stood off to the side with the student council president did attract a few curious glances from the student and faculty population none actually approached them.
It was probably safe to assume that Ms. Kirijo had an unapproachable aura to most people, given how most flinched when meeting her gaze.
As a portly older man dressed in a suit approaching the podium most gazes had left the odd duo. "Good Morning Gekkoukan High School my name is.."
"Now is a good time to begin." The Heiress calls the Foreigner.
"My name is Kirijo Mitsuru, as you know, my father lead's the Kirijo Group. We've been exploring exotic materials and the result as you know led to what we've been calling the Dark Hour… The U.N. has been tangentially aware that something has been amiss since the 2004 Demon Invasion that took place in Tokyo. However they've not been able to do much more than keep tabs on us until 2007. You've likely been briefed about the events that took place, but the Dark Hour has gotten even more untenable since then."
Taking a moment to pause as some teachers called out some other students for speaking, Faer could vaguely make out a teacher in pink scolding her class.
"It was after that event that the U.N. response team, eventually coming to be known as UNDIT, had noticed the true depths of the issues. Despite it not making the news the demon attacks had actually kept up after the 2007 issue despite the root of the issue being solved."
"The Dark Hour. It was the reason that Demons could persist." Faer comments, "I see. The Kirijo Group doesn't like this, do they? I can see why… anything they do would be suspect to the U.N. since they've correctly deduced that by whatever means the Kirijo Group caused this they couldn't easily fix this."
"What will you do now?" While the question remained innocent enough there was an underlying tension. But Faer for whatever details he didn't remember about his life knew this, to let his actions speak for him. Should it upset someone, apologize after the fact.
With a shrug he responds, "What needs to be done."