Seoul, South Korea
In a way, Diana could be considered incredibly fortunate. Fortunate in the way that would've made Drystan seethe until he was red. Her status in the ICA had granted her access to countless billion-dollar estates and equipment. It was no secret that most of the top brass favored her.
And as a servant let her out of the limousine to Myung's expansive mansion, it occurred to her that connections still ran the world regardless of the 'side' you were on.
The servant led her through the grand foyer, down a hall, and into a meeting room. Here, two familiar faces presented themselves. "Isn't this lovely? We all get to work together again. Just like old times."
"Myung. Clera." Diana nodded to each of them. Myung looked her usual self; gaudy, self-absorbed. Clera on the other hand, donned a suit, even doing her hair into a slim ponytail. "Old times, indeed."
Clera rose and walked over, wearing a primed smile. Diana braced for some unbearable spiel. "I'm sorry, Diana." Oh? "Thanks to Surtr, I've realized my mistakes. It's not your fault. Nor mine for having such ludicrous agents. It's the system." Oh. Oh dear.
She put her hand out to shake. Managing a smile back, Diana reciprocated. "Apology accepted. But I believe we have other matters to attend to?"
"She's right," Myung said, rattling her fingers on the glass table impatiently. "Get yourselves situated at once. The fate of the TruthSpeakers is on our shoulders."
The handlers took a seat, opening their laptops in sync. Myung clicked a remote, and a projector plastered a picture of Yoshihara Nozomi onto the screen. "For the sake of our future, Nozomi must die."
"An old friend of yours?" Diana commented.
Myung sniffed. Neither could tell if she was even remotely frowning, or if that was just her normal expression. "Formerly."
"Are we sending my squad after her?" Clera asked. "Nozomi resides in a CICADA-certified bunker like all the other board members of that PMC. If we can get a blueprint of her residence and info about the guards—"
"That's too much effort." Diana shook her head. "The best path is the path of least resistance. If we are to approach this like an official ICA mission, we'd need to draw her out."
"Precisely." Myung looked at the frown-stifling Clera. "Your people have their jobs. But we need the scalpel for her. I applaud Diana for knowing where we're heading." She clicked the remote again, revealing three mugshots. Two males, one female. "We will draw her out using them."
Satoshi Yoshihara, from a lounge in the panopticon-inspired watchtower, looked through the wall-length windows. He watched the crowds pour into campus, doe-eyed and blissfully unaware. He thought that, by some miracle, Mother would be among those masses. That she would see that her eldest son was cured—a healthy, normal member of society.
The thought excited him so much so that he started biting his nails. A mistake he immediately rectified, grabbing a thumbtack off the desk and pressing it into his finger. It stopped hurting as badly as the first dozen times—he only had to grit his teeth now.
The door clicked open, and Satoshi threw his glasses back on, ignoring the thumbprint of blood he left on the lens.
"You're still looking for her, Nii-chan?" The unpleasant voice of his sister came on, and he turned to see her porcelain skin and smooth brown hair with bangs flat above her eyes. "Do you think she's just been busy for the past 30 years? We're never getting out of here, and it's all that bitch, Himura's, fault." Kayoko threw herself onto the couch, lazing her legs on the coffee table.
"I never touched her," he snapped, marching over to her. "That was all you and Hideki. Not me!"
Kayoko rolled her eyes. "That's what you tell yourself. But then, why are you still here?"
It was a waste of time to argue with her. Looking back at the door, he expected Hideki to come in next. But evidently, their little brother had more exciting plans than their daily meeting. "Where is Hideki?" he asked, sighing.
Kayoko shrugged, more interested in today's zodiac readings than her family. "Probably having fun with this year's bad batch. You know how he is."
"That won't do! What if Mother calls? She expects all three of us to be here!"
"Stop talking about her!" she screeched. "She hasn't called since a decade ago. Just face it—she's given up on us! Let me move on!" Kayoko shot up with a huff, leaving through the same door.
It was quiet in the lounge again. Satoshi sat next to the landline, staring. He smothered his bleeding thumb into a handkerchief.
By the time a faculty staff member went to bring him down, the puncture wound had clotted. Satoshi said he'd be right there, and donning the stoic mask everyone knew him by, he too had left.
Passing the campus gate and toward the towering facility, Agent 47 was welcomed by a chorus of men and women shouting, "Irasshaimase!" The entourage of students bowed at the side, making the slew of guests marvel at their performance. Nobody thought that there could have been scars under their scarves and sleeves, bandages underneath their uniforms and over still fresh burns, or fear in the strains of their eyes and forced smiles. And lest the students lose points, it ought to stay that way.
Satoshi Yoshihara's voice boomed from the intercom, welcoming the slew of people to their wonderful institute. He wished them enjoyment, promising nothing short of a memorable time.
Today was the last day of the cultural festival, and things had only ramped up. Stalls lined the courtyard all the way to the main building with streamers laden with paper cranes overhead. Each class gave it their all, poaching visitors left and right. The guests found it cute how grown adults could perform as high schoolers with just the same vigor. While they had nothing but good things to say for the excitable environment, they had little idea what was at stake for these students, or that their praises meant little more than numerical points.
Nor that three people would die in this very building.
"Good afternoon, 47. Welcome to the Tokyo Academy of Reason and Reflection. For Japan's elite, this is where they send their children to be 'fixed,' if they have shown any sign of abnormalities beyond graduation. Such aberrations include mental illnesses, anti-social personalities, and other typically harmless effects. Things that their families fear could stain their spotless images. The only way they leave is if they are 'cured', or, in some cases, die.
"In order to draw out our primary target, Yoshihara Nozomi, into accessible circumstances, Myung has asked us to take out her three children. Your targets are the Yoshihara siblings: the eldest child, Satoshi; the middle daughter, Kayoko; and the youngest, Hideki, a man struggling with explosive anger issues that have had unfortunate consequences...
"In the 1980s, 17-year-old Yuko Himura was lured and kidnapped by Hideki. He kept her captive at their parent-less household, telling caretakers that she was his girlfriend whenever they stopped by. His siblings notoriously aided in this deception. Together, they held her captive and tortured for the next 44 days. She finally perished from her injuries, the fatal wounds inflicted by Hideki in a blind rage. Despite the nation-wide outrage, the siblings, under the age of 14, could not be punished under Japanese law. Instead, they were granted anonymity and protection.
"Horrified and hopeful to 'cure' her children of their psychopathy, Nozomi enlisted them into the then newly opened Tokyo Academy of Reason and Reflection. It hasn't worked. And they have remained here for the past 35 years—by far the longest out of any admissions' tenure. Their heritage in the Yoshihara family has made them effectively invincible in the institute, as CICADA even provides the campus' security. Naturally, they're more willing to turn a blind eye to a director's children.
"Reports from within paint the Yoshihara siblings as tyrants who have been handed the keys to the kingdom. Such privileges include punishing their peers while avoiding reprimands themselves. Hideki takes advantage of the school's use of an electric shock device known as the GED—the graduated electronic decelerator, often sending students to be tortured with these on mere whims. Kayoko demands subservience, and any hint of rebellion is punished by her own merits. Satoshi, however, is less keen on torturing others and has focused solely on his academics. His clean record and achievements have made him the face of the student body and a representative for the school. Despite his achievements, Nozomi has shown no interest in him.
"TARR is currently holding its annual cultural festival, opening itself to the public to show off their effectiveness. But behind the curtain, this is a test for the students to see which of them has become 'normal'. You can expect the Yoshiharas to be exempt, wandering the campus for their own amusement. Though they are victims of convenience, I dare say they have it coming. Happy hunting, 47."
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Targets: The Delinquent, The Princess, The Purist
"The transformation is incredible, Hisashi-san. They're so normal!"
A visitor chatted with a suited man with sagging wrinkles and short grey hair blanketing the top. He smiled, dimples on his aged skin giving him an uncanny look. "You're too kind," he said. "All we ever wanted to do is help the unfortunate. Still, if you are willing, some donations could keep us going for many more years..."
Agent 47 made it up the stairs, passing the two as he made it to the building's entrance. Diana chimed in. "That is Aoki Hisashi, the headmaster and founder of TARR, and the largest buyer of the GED. He developed his methods after finding greater success in controlling people through fear and pain than through positive influence."
And likely the person keeping the Yoshiharas on a leash. A loose leash at that. 47 noted the obvious thirst for positive PR and continued inside.
Signs and arrows directed him to the first floor's hall of classrooms, where scores of people traveled between the attractions. An info desk manned by one student handled a short line. On the surface, it looked as ordinary as a cultural festival could be.
The first in line, class 1-A, was barred from entry. According to the sign taped to its door, they were preparing for a play in the auditorium.
Class 1-B, which 47 knew as Hideki's classroom, had a couple of students outside loudly directing people into their cafe. Peeking inside, aside from learning that they served crepes, his target was nowhere to be found.
Further ahead at 1-C, a boy at a desk limited the amount of people heading inside their haunted house via a counter. A group of CICADA guards stood aside, filing inside one at a time. They clearly saw it as nothing more than a joke; like cheesy horror flicks to a moviegoer.
Upon nearing 1-D, however, 47 found it devoid of life and shuttered in darkness. He tried the door. Locked.
The festivities continued on the upper floors, but for now, Agent 47 returned to the info desk, which by now had gotten through the line.
The student, an unremarkable 20-year-old man in TARR's school uniform, widened his eyes at the sight of a foreigner. Though he regained himself a moment later. "Welcome to the Tokyo Academy of Reason and Reflection! My name is Miyake Gorou. How can I help?"
"From the Miyake family in the automotive business?"
He froze for a second. "Yeah... You know a bit, sir."
"I like to keep track of big players." 47 took a pamphlet, flipping through it. "Why are you here?"
Gorou let out a solemn smile. "Video game addiction."
47 nodded. "Sorry to hear that. I've noticed you and a few students are allowed flip phones?"
"School-issued." He brought his out for 47 to see. "If our scores are high enough, we're allowed one of these."
"May I see it? I'm curious how it compares to current models."
It was a request that came out of left field, but though Gorou thought it odd, there was nothing to dissuade his compliance. He passed it over to the hitman, letting him scroll through. It had limited options, and of course no connection to the outside world. No way to add numbers other than connecting with another's phone. 47 glanced through his contacts: Matsubara Hiro, Yasutake Shoichi. Maeda Shinju.
"Thanks." He passed it back. "Why is class 1-D closed?"
"You're not missing much, sir. Class 1-D is never open during cultural festivals."
"Why is that?"
Gorou curled his lips inside. "I can't say."
That wasn't said out of not knowing. He couldn't say it. "I heard that Yoshihara Nozomi's children are attending this institution. What can you tell me about them?"
The student clenched his hands together, his customer service smile quickly faltering. "W-Well... It's not my job to talk about specific students."
"But you know something I'm asking about."
Gorou had heard that foreigners like learning about things that they have no business in—even a little too much—but this was his first time seeing it up close. He glanced around, making extra sure they weren't anywhere near.
Then, with a sigh, he said, "They've been here longer than me or anyone else I know. Satoshi is TARR's student council president, and we're constantly told to be like him. Kayoko..." He wavered, dabbing his temples with a handkerchief. "Kayoko has a... way with people. But as long as you do what she wants, she's fine. Then Hideki. He's the same, but much more 'sensitive'. Not to say any of them are sick! TARR always—"
"I understand."
Gorou sunk in his chair. "Sorry, I couldn't be of help."
"Don't be." Agent 47 slipped the pamphlet into his pocket, which came with a map of the campus. "You've told me plenty."
47 wanted to focus on Kayoko first. Gorou knew something about her, and he was scared. More so than of Satoshi or the similarly temperamental Hideki. He just needed to find out why.
The hitman traveled upstairs, finding more rows of classrooms and similar activities. However, most of the crowd had gathered in a clearing between the rooms. It became clear as Agent 47 spotted Satoshi and his mop-like hair at the front, giving a perfectly memorized speech about the institute's success with suited CICADA guards at his side.
"That is Satoshi Yoshihara, the oldest of the siblings. He appears to have matured throughout the years, a fact that Aoki has taken advantage of to promote as the face of TARR."
He arrived at the ending of his spiel, and the crowd applauded. But, only to drive his 'normality' in further, Satoshi pushed himself forward to shake everyone's hand. Though the guests were delighted, 47 noticed how he kept his right hand behind himself, and that there was a transparent spot of red tint at the edge of his glasses lens.
Eventually, Satoshi reached the bald foreigner, holding his hand out with a practiced smile. As they shook, he said, "You have something on your glasses." 47 pointed to his own eye like a mirror.
Satoshi immediately recoiled, which in his case was stiffening up like a block of wood. He grabbed the glasses with his right hand, bringing a handkerchief to it. "My apologies," he said. "I've been too caught up in the excitement of today to notice."
"It's fine." He noted the multiple puncture scars on his right thumb. "You don't look like you belong here."
"I know." Satoshi smiled wider. "Please, enjoy your visit to the Tokyo Academy of Reason and Reflection."
After that, the bald man vanished into the crowd. Another visitor replaced his spot, and the encounter joined the rest of the forgettable afternoon.
Agent 47 instead traveled up the staircase to the third floor before being stopped by faculty from entering the fourth. "I'm sorry. Only students and faculty are allowed on the fourth floor," the man said, clearly working automatically, as he didn't bother to make eye contact.
So 47 made sure he did, looking down at the man with his unchanging gaze. "Then there must be a mistake," he said, and the man froze. "I'm from CICADA. On behalf of the Yoshiharas."
He fidgeted. "That's... I wasn't informed. And CICADA usually sends Japanese here, not..."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, sir, please forgive my rudeness." He stepped aside and bowed.
If it was mostly students up here, 47 was certain they wouldn't question his presence. Based on everything he'd heard about the place, it was as good as a death sentence to stand against authority.
The drop in volume was instantaneous. Compared to the festiveness below, there was only a deathly still in the air. Pale students stood at constant attention while the lax faculty calmly drank their coffee and hid in their offices.
As for why there were students up here? It became evident as he neared the classrooms.
"Well? Has she come through those gates yet?"
"N-No, Yoshihara-hime. Your mother hasn't—"
"Of course she hasn't!" She threw a stapler at the man, earning a muffled whimper and ensuing silence. Yoshihara-hime sat on the teacher's desk, her mind wandering everywhere except on her classmate. "I knew she wouldn't... Why would she? It's just like I told Satoshi—she doesn't care about us..."
Agent 47 looked through the window, and Diana began, "That is Kayoko Yoshihara, the middle child. I would say she's built a pleasant life for herself here, but that is clearly not the case."
In the corner sat a teacher, going through his paperwork without even batting an eye. The only form of reprimand was a delayed, "Please, don't throw my equipment," that went unacknowledged.
The man she spoke with, a classmate standing upright at attention and trying to keep his eyes ahead, clenched his sweaty palms behind his back. He knew that the rest of Kayoko's clique sat behind him, whispering their secrets and mockeries, groomed to follow her beck and call.
Fortunately for him, with the wave of a hand, Kayoko let him go. He hurried out of the classroom, not even noticing 47 as he ran.
When Kayoko calmed down, she began again, "I wonder if she even knows what about Imai-san..." She looked at her cronies. "Yuka, Rin, Chisato." The three girls made their way to the front. "I want you three to spy on my siblings and that weasel, Miyake-san. I want to know everything they do by the end of the day."
They all bowed in unison. "Of course. Thank you, Yoshihara-hime."
Agent 47 watched the girls leave and make their way to the staircase. However, instead of heading down, they sidled around the barrier and up to the rooftop.
"Imai..." Diana said. "Records show one Hana Imai admitted into the institution only a year ago. She's the daughter of a family in the petrochemicals industry. However, no other information is available. This could be something valuable. I suggest you keep digging, 47."
He agreed, and fortunately, he had a good feeling about someone who might know more.
When Gorou noticed the bald foreigner come back, his smile wavered between friendliness and dread.
"I want to ask about Hana Imai."
Dread took over. "I-I don't know who you're talking about."
"I think you do. Does it have to do with Kayoko?"
He froze with his mouth ajar.
"What happened to Ms. Imai? What did Kayoko do?"
Gorou finally shushed him, eyeing a few raised brows from nearby visitors. If the institution's reputation took a hit because of this... he shuddered at what might happen to him.
47 leaned in. "Is she alive?"
"They'll punish me if I say something I shouldn't."
"Is that worse than what you're going through right now?"
Gorou hid his face with a hand. He looked everywhere. His mouth twitched from nervous laughter into ajar fright. There was an emotion that Agent 47 picked apart in their first interaction: guilt. But it wasn't enough. "I'm sorry... I can't..." His voice fell to little more than a whimper. "I can't go back to the Punishment Hall."
"If the institute's goal was to train their patients into silence about any and all misgivings, they've succeeded," Diana remarked.
It was the type of behavior 47 expected to see in high-end military settings, not a place meant to replicate the childhood of high school. Since little could be gained through the students, it was time for a more hands-on approach.
"Excuse me," he said, tapping a janitor's shoulder. "One of the toilets has flooded." He pointed to the restroom in question, prompting a nod from the man.
He wheeled his cart along to the scene of the supposed mess. As the janitor went in, Agent 47 took an out-of-order sign from his cart, placing it outside the door as he stepped inside.
A while later, the 'janitor' returned with a ring of keys in hand.
Unlocking class 1-D, 47 let himself into the dark room. From a cursory glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary, only that one desk missing from the grid pattern. The hitman went to the teacher's desk, fishing out a seating chart. It was on the absent desk's spot that he read the name "Imai, Hana."
According to Gorou, this class is absent every year. Taking the institution's point system into account, the trend makes sense if this classroom housed the lowest scores. Class 1-D and the fate of Hana Imai must've been in the Punishment Hall.
Agent 47 traveled back up the staircase, using his disguise to pass the guard and then the barrier for the rooftop. After four floors, blue skies finally graced the hitman again as he emerged. It was flat, save for a shed, the stairwell, and the metal fence perimeter. The only thing towering above was the concrete watchtower, windows splattered on every floor and tinted black, save for the lounge at the top. There was also the group of three girls near the fence.
47 had two purposes for coming up here. The first was to get a bird's-eye view of the campus. Coming up the fence, he used the pamphlet's map to link the buildings. Directly beneath them was an empty courtyard. Further ahead was the auditorium where 1-A was set for their play. Beyond that were the dormitories, staff offices, and other facilities off-limits. Everything, shining brightly white as if coming out of a utopian novel, was built around the watchtower.
But no obvious Punishment Hall. Naturally, such a space wouldn't be thrilling for the visitors to read. To best hide a building, it would have to share the same spot with another. And Agent 47 was certain the auditorium didn't need as much square meters as it did.
"Sometimes I want to slap Kayoko. Just teach her a lesson; show her that we're not just her slaves."
"Baka," the second girl, Rin, snapped back in monotone. "You know what'll happen to you, Yuka."
"Obviously..."
"But... I get what she means," the third, Chisato, added. "Some people never learned how to be humble. Lord knows those siblings are among them."
"You're both getting Imai'd. You should know better! Here, we all love Yoshihara-hime. We love being treated like peasants by the almighty 40-something-year-old who still does her hair like a grade-schooler."
The three broke into laughter.
Agent 47 looked over the edge again, confirming that an empty courtyard was indeed directly beneath them.
His second reasoning for being here was a container tucked around the rooftop shed. The Agency pickup hid between a bucket full of dirty water and the accompanying janitor cart. Clicking it open, 47 was beheld with resources: ammunition, throwing knives, and the only thing he needed from it, being a vial of tetrodotoxin. Commonly found in pufferfish and blue-ringed octopus.
With everything he needed, the hitman descended to the ground level and headed straight for the auditorium.
Beyond the main building, the line of stalls continued onward, keeping the flow of guests occupied. There were plenty of flowery arrow signs advertising the upcoming play. Plastered on the walls were posters, each with Satoshi's face above the words "Reason and Reflection".
Upon entering the auditorium, he was met with rows of metal seats simulating a theater. There was still some decent time left before the play began, so most of the guests hadn't settled down yet. The stage itself was walled off by a large curtain.
Appearing as nothing more than a janitor, nobody cared as Agent 47 went backstage.
Class 1-A was in a hurry; the rush familiar to every play in the hour before opening. Adding more stress were the potential points everyone would receive if they pulled this off. Behind rushing prop designers and rolling carts of costumes on hangars, a pair of students drowned out the noise with an orchestral song coming from a playback device.
They stopped it immediately, shouting a quick "Sumimasen!" as everyone shook their head and continued with their duties.
"Kichiro," the woman said in mock anger. "You forgot to set the timer!"
"It's not my fault that thing is so... ancient, Akane. Don't we have some other way to get the music?"
"If we did, we wouldn't be hunched over this thing, hm?"
Then a blanching student ran in through the curtain, horror in his eyes. "Everyone, zip it!" he shouted. "Kayoko is about to come in!"
Everyone froze. Then swept all of their materials and hard work away. Their last-hour hustle fell silent, save for the clattering as they cleaned everything up. When things were clear enough, everyone formed a line near the entrance, standing at attention.
As if on a red carpet, Kayoko and her clique waltzed through. They ignored the uniform bowing from the troupe, their focus seemingly elsewhere.
It became apparent when Kayoko's gaze narrowed on someone in line. "Yowamushi!" she screeched, and her hands latched around a man's hair, pulling him to the floor. Her followers joined in like a pack of dogs as his yells fell on deaf ears. Hair snapped off, dropping from their fists. "Do you think it's funny, Maeda?! Calling me an 'old hag' behind my back?"
Maeda yelled that he hadn't. That he never did. Not that it stopped them. The rest kept their heads bowed.
"Kayoko!" She finally stopped her assault at the familiar voice. Her clique followed suit. "I thought I told you to stay away from me!" The speaker was a younger man with a head of peppered hair specks and a resting scowl. He had burst out a door further behind backstage, followed by others much like his sister.
"That is Hideki Yoshihara, the youngest of the Yoshiharas. Impulsive, sadistic, and remorseless. Perhaps the only difference between him and his sister is his lack of order."
The theater troupe dispersed from what looked like a to-be scene of carnage. Two gangs and their leaders facing each other in deafening silence.
Kayoko chuckled. Arms crossed, she kicked her way over to her younger brother until they were in arm's reach. "Otouto," she said in mock affection, "I thought you'd have learned since Himura-san to wisen up. To pick better people to be your friends." Kayoko snatched his collar, pulling him down to her head level. "Wasn't it her who got us into this place?!"
Hideki shoved her away, though Kayoko bounced on her feet with a laugh. "What happened to her was an accident! If you didn't bother me so much, I wouldn't have gotten so angry—we wouldn't be here!"
"Yoshihara Kayoko! Yoshihara Hideki!" An older, stern voice interrupted the spat. The followers on both sides immediately lost their vigor as the headmaster appeared. Standing diligently beside the elderly man was Satoshi, not even sparing them a glance.
Aoki stood between the siblings and motioned for CICADA guards to pull them apart. "You two are lucky to be Yoshiharas. You were born with incredible gifts at your disposal. I don't understand... why can't either of you be like Satoshi?"
For once, the siblings' anger was not directed at each other. Aoki motioned for the guard to lead Kayoko away. She and her group begrudgingly followed. Hideki scoffed and led his own back to the other room. Satoshi whispered something in the headmaster's ear, and he agreed to walk further ahead of Kayoko.
But Agent 47 noticed, right before Kayoko disappeared behind the curtain, that she had taken Maeda's flip phone, stuffing it in the cuff of her sleeve. Keeping that in mind, he followed Hideki's gang inside.
They walked along a dirty hallway, and lone lightbulbs barely kept the place lit up. Upon rounding a corner, he instantly knew this was the Punishment Hall.
Several students, men and women, strapped against wooden boards. GEDs hooked up to their bodies, controlled by blank-faced orderlies. Their contorting expressions of pain and fear. One man whispered for his "Mommy..."
To which, the orderly attending his GED said, "That's another five shocks added. You aren't doing this on purpose, are you?" He clicked the remote, sending 90 mA coursing through his veins. He added five more for the crying that followed.
But above all was the insidious echoing of laughter. Its source was a group of male students—Hideki's gang. Like free-hire guards, they patrolled the room, often lashing out at the victims without reason. One of them kicked a restrained student, and his scream made the orderly send another shock.
From a doorway in the corner, an orderly dragged another student by her hair, ignoring the screams and pleads that she wouldn't mess up again. Hideki's bunch helped strap her into the GED, bringing her to the others.
Agent 47 walked behind a row of GED racks as cover, and counting on these people's fascination with torture, clambered over boxes to reach an exposed vent shaft. He crouched on top of it, walking above the faculty and through the doorway.
Here, he found the rest of class 1-D. Due to their "failure" to be normal, they had to take a test: to sit still in a makeshift classroom for 12 hours. The catch? Any slight fib or twitch sent them to the GEDs in the next room.
Such was the sight 47 was blessed with as he watched staff and more of the gang wander the desks, trying to invoke reactions.
"What were those statistics?" one orderly asked to another in the front, making himself as loud as possible.
"Nine times more powerful than a cattle prod! Twice the threshold of pain for most adults!" the other answered with the same strength. "Only eight more hours until you all are free to go!"
Someone broke, and the staff seized him like a shark in waters. They dragged him out, leaving only one orderly to watch over the students as they shut the door behind them.
"How hard is it to sit still and be quiet like a normal person?" the orderly mocked. He wandered over to one student's desk, leaning over and in his face. "The only reason you're here with me is because you aren't normal. You're going to come here for the rest of your life. You are going to die here. Just like this!" He snapped suddenly in his eyes.
Not even a blink.
The orderly laughed. "Alright. You pass. How about—"
Agent 47 wrapped his arm around him, bringing the orderly to the ground as he squeezed the air out of his lungs. He wheezed and reached out, mouthing for help.
Not one of the students budged. Just as they were trained.
47 stuffed him in a nearby closet, taking his clothes. He went through another sliding door just as the other torturers returned.
Along an empty hallway aligned with the foundation wall, two CICADA guards patrolled the route. "Just when you thought you've seen it all," one remarked. "Gotta love politicians. One minute, they're sending us to rescue people undergoing this exact torture overseas, making a very big deal out of it to the press. By the next, we're guarding the same thing back home."
"You'll get used to it. I've been stationed here a few times over the years. If it helps, the ones that leave do look like they've been cured."
"Look like. Only they're traumatized for life."
The two laughed.
Agent 47 walked by them, investigating a myriad of storage closets built into the walls. By the 14th one, he found what he was looking for.
Shoved into the corner was class 1-D's missing desk, messages etched onto the surface to the brim. Fucking ugly. Waste of life. Just die already. Placed on top of it was a baseball-sized rock, stained red with blood.
"Poor girl..." Diana uttered. "We now have a decent idea of what happened to Hana Imai, and the extent of Kayoko's involvement. But just what are you planning with this information?"
He pocketed the rock, leaving Diana to her imagination.
Agent 47 left the auditorium through the way he came. He made his way back to the main building. Then to the rooftop where the three girls remained.
He did not do much other than drop the rock into the dirty bucket of water. He left just as quickly.
In the classroom underneath where they stood, 47 slid the window all the way open. On the edge, he placed the playback device and set the timer.
When Gorou saw the 'orderly' come up to him, he thought for a split-second that his face looked familiar. But the 'orderly' did not leave much time for him to think, demanding he hand over his flip phone. Knowing that resisting them meant automatic punishment, he practically threw the phone at him.
Agent 47 found Shinju Maeda's contact, sending a simple message.
Where are u? been waiting in the cafe forever. Get your ass over so we can beat the old hag Kayoko senseless
While a fire was brewing, Agent 47 focused next on a CICADA outfit. He walked back to the haunted house, and sure enough, the group of guards were still having a laugh, sending each other into the room one by one. The student at the front earnestly kept track of the max occupancy.
So he went into the adjacent class 1-D. Agent 47 stacked the desks against the wall, forming something akin to a staircase. This allowed him to get up to the drop ceiling, pushing the tile away and leaving himself a convenient entrance into the haunted house.
Outside, the student looked at their last guest leaving, clicked his counter, and called, "Next!"
The CICADA guard chuckled, pushing through the dark curtains for what was going to be a miserable attempt at scaring him. Compared to the life-threatening combat scenarios he worked in, paper-cut decorations and painted masks popping out of obvious holes in the cardboard was a cakewalk.
He exaggeratingly yawned in the face of a growling zombie, making his way into a much darker room. There was a flash of light, casting his shadow on the wall—alongside someone else's. An arm wrapped around his neck. For a moment, he thought they'd kicked it up a notch. Then it tightened. He grabbed and pulled, but he was powerless!
When Agent 47 knocked him out, the smell of piss circulated in the room.
The student looked at Agent 47 leaving, clicked his counter, and called, "Next!"
Meanwhile, in the cafe, the servers and cooks all froze as Kayoko and her followers stepped inside. With a growl in her voice, she yelled, "Where is Maeda Shinju?!"
The guests looked at each other, utterly confused.
"M-Maeda-san isn't here," one brave server tried to say.
Kayoko shoved him into a table, and the guests shouted out.
"Find him!" Her posse spread out, infiltrating the kitchen without regard for the students. The visitors, now frightened, began filing out.
But after turning the cafe inside out, there was no sign of Maeda. However, alarmed by his terrified colleagues, Hideki ran all the way from the auditorium. Just in time to witness his sister sabotaging his class.
...
Today was yet another decidedly fruitful cultural festival, Aoki thought. Finally able to relax in the privacy of his office, the headmaster could finally answer a call that's been bugging him. "Yamazaki-san, tell me you have a story ready."
The yakuza lawyer made her proposal, making him furrow his brows. "Suicide? Somehow that still feels damning for my institution..."
She elaborated. He nodded with her reasoning. "If we spin it from our side, maybe the only critiques we'll get are from Imai-san's mother. But I'm sure you guys will handle that? This is because of your boss' daughter."
She kept talking. Aoki started seeing the merit in it. "So. She was driven mad by her illnesses, but because of pushback from our political opponents, we couldn't use the GED on her because of the restrictions. As a result, her brain poisons, uncontested, made her end her life. We did everything we could, but it was too late. Yeah, I like the sound of that."
A pounding on his door rattled his office, making Aoki flinch. Cursing under his breath, he said, "Hold on. I'll call you back," before hanging up and straightening his suit.
The last thing he expected was the swarm of angry and confused guests, all shouting about something in class 1-B. Perhaps he thought too soon of today.
Aoki led the guests back to the scene of the crime. Already, he heard people and things being thrown like a storm. He saw a camera crew nearby. His heart swelled with stress.
The reporters surrounded him, aiming their cameras at his face. Aoki ignored them the best he could, entering the classroom. The camera followed just in time to see Hideki's punch land across Kayoko's face.
Aoki yelled, and CICADA guards finally arrived to shield off the press. Satoshi appeared then, squeezing through the crowd until he reached Aoki's side.
"Hideki!" he yelled, the sharp tone high above the ongoing brawl. Standing high and mighty, Satoshi's mere presence demanded the students come to the front. "Do you have any idea what you are doing? In front of the visitors, nonetheless?!"
None of them said a word.
Aoki finally entered as well, red as a tomato.
"Headmaster, what do we—?"
"Throw them with the others in class 1-D!" he yelled. The followers of both siblings paled and gasped collectively, some trembling from the reality of their consequences.
Satoshi nodded. He looked at the CICADA guards. "All of you, bring them to—"
Hideki lunged at the two, teeth bared like a rabid dog. CICADA stepped in just in time, piling onto him. In the chaos, Kayoko and a few others took this chance to escape, squeezing through the door and disappearing in the dense crowds.
Hideki yelled and screamed as CICADA had to carry every limb of his body. Satoshi followed close behind. Aoki sat at a desk, feeling his castle crumble as the reporters and onlookers watched it all unfold.
Agent 47 found Kayoko hiding in the fourth floor classroom, surrounded by her clique, unable to focus on any one thing as she paced in circles. "Ms. Yoshihara?"
"What!" she screeched, only recognizing his bald visage after the fact. "You... You're CICADA. Are you going to turn me in?"
"Not exactly. I've been sent by your mother concerning Hana Imai."
Her face twisted into something more furious than the literal fight she just had. "How did you—?" There was a glint of realization. "The headmaster..."
"Your mother wants this swept away. I'm in possession of the evidence, including the murder weapon. I want to discuss and confirm that you understand."
Kayoko shot a glare to her classmates, turning their whispers into obedient silence, and their shaken stares to their laps. "Figures. She'd send a lackey to handle her problems. I'd prefer we continue somewhere more private."
"I agree. There's an empty courtyard outside. Please follow me there; we'll avoid the others who know you."
"Fine."
As Agent 47 walked with Kayoko in tow across floors, the passing students all stopped to clear the path—despite the fact the visitors shared none of the same courtesy. Without fail, their eyes traveled to Kayoko, curious yet petrified.
On the first floor, the crowd had shifted to a different area. Aoki and his CICADA guards were handling a surprise interview with the reporters, trying to impose damage control. The curious crowd followed, needing answers. Avoiding them was simple.
As they continued through the campus, the crowds soon thinned, and the chatter quieted. It was a much more inconvenient path toward the center of the campus, and there was no reason not to take the shorter main exit just across from the entrance. This had left a beautiful courtyard known to a few; a clearing with a sakura blossom planted in the center, the surroundings blanketed with pink petals.
"So what did that old grandpa tell you about me?" Kayoko asked.
"Enough," he answered. 47 stopped just a few meters shy of the building behind them, leaving the two caught in the open sunlight. "Ms. Imai was one of the few who stood up to you. Naturally, you couldn't handle it. So, you subjected her to months of abuse."
She scoffed. "We were just messing around. There's nothing wrong with that."
"You hit her with a rock. Her blood is on that, and Ms. Imai is no more."
Her eyes twitched with an unmistakable frown. "I didn't mean for that to happen! I just wanted to scare her."
"So it was an accident like with Ms. Himura?"
Kayoko went silent. "I'm not a murderer."
Agent 47 checked his watch. By now, the playback device should've started. 47 glanced up, and indeed, the three girls had looked down for the noise. Only, they found a much more interesting scene: Kayoko all alone, save for some unaware CICADA employee—standing exactly underneath them.
"Well? Show me the rock!"
The three girls dumped the bucket of grimy water over the railing.
"Oh, it's coming."
She hung her head, shooting a disgusted glare his way. "You don't have it on you?"
"Don't worry. It'll be the only thing in your head."
"But where is it?"
"Above you."
"Above me? What?" Kayoko looked up.
The grey liquid splattered all over her body, drenching her hair and staining her outfit. She fell forward, twitching. Blood caked the rock and spilled onto the floor, leaking from the grotesque crater where her nose and upper jaw once were.
"Yes. Above you."
"Confirmed kill on Kayoko. Two more to go. You should know Hideki is outside and en route to the Punishment Hall."
Then he was well on time.
...
Hideki agreed at last to behave himself, now only needing one CICADA guard to keep his hands tied as he walked. He sneered and glared at his older brother, ever so composed. "Do you really have nothing to say, onii-chan?" he shouted. "After this, Mother will never want to see us again!" Hideki laughed. "Everyone out there will know what this shitty place is like! Just think about her reputation! We all know which one she'd choose to save!"
To his surprise, Satoshi laughed alongside him. "You are so stupid. She sent us here becuase of you and Kayoko! When these guys fry your brains out through day and night until you can't even think of destroying our lives, Mother will come for me. I'm getting out of here, thanks to you!"
"Oh my god, here we go again with the playing innocent. You want a reality check, onii-chan? You're just as bad as the rest of us!" He reveled in the fury Satoshi tried to mask. "I remember Himura looking at you—begging for you to help her! I watched you walk away like it was none of your business! You ain't innocent! You killed her by doing nothing!"
Satoshi slapped him across the face. "You don't know what you're talking about."
As if to spare those nearby of the argument, an orderly ran up to the group, calling Satoshi's name. He bore a face of worry as he announced, "Yoshihara-san. Your... We found your sister. Something... happened to her." His eyes widened. "She's dead. We don't know what happened, but... it isn't pretty."
It was Hideki's turn to laugh. "Way to turn a shitty day into a good one!"
Satoshi froze, and everyone walked ahead of him. His mouth moved slowly, finding the words to speak. At last, he uttered, "Take me to her."
As for Hideki, he was lost in thought. He wasn't worried about the GED; he wondered if that meant something truly was wrong with him. The last time he faced the device was more than three decades ago, and it has only gotten stronger since.
He remained well-behaved into the auditorium, going into backstage as the troupe paused from their conundrum of losing their playback device just to gawk at him. He entered the Punishment Hall, suddenly breaking into laughter as he realized he was now on the other side of his actions.
He watched as his gang turned with high smiles at their next victim, only to shudder and blanch as they realized who it was. The orderlies strapped Hideki to the board and hooked the GED all around his body. "Well?" he said. "I'm ready! Try and clean me of these 'brain poisons'! Can't change the way I was born!"
Hideki noticed that some bald foreigner tapped the shoulder of his orderly, letting him take a break as he handled Hideki. He didn't recognize him—a new hire, eager to impress? That was funny.
"How long has it been since you guys last strapped me into this thing? 35 years?"
Agent 47 ran diagnostics, making sure the device was in mint condition.
"Not much of a talker?"
"What did you want to talk about?"
"Anything!" He chuckled smugly. "Aren't you curious why these guys aren't treating me like the others?"
"No."
"Huh?"
"Commencing the GED." Agent 47 pressed the remote, sending the max pulse into Hideki. He yelled and convulsed.
His gang was at a loss. Instead of getting up in his face, they sat a distance away as if waiting for an order. They did not laugh or heckle, as they usually did. They did, however, feel as though something was different.
The orderly did not let go of the remote. Hideki kept seizing and screaming, soon finding himself short of breath and unable to breathe.
"Isn't it going on too long...?
"Be quiet..."
"Hey... shouldn't we...?"
"Shut up...!"
"He needs to let go of the button..."
"We'll end up in that device if you keep talking..."
The gang quieted after that. And so they watched on, not daring to act out of line. Even as they heard the last of Hideki's breath leave his lungs after several minutes of non-stop electrocution. Even as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the only thing keeping him moving was the coursing of electricity. Not a twitch as the smell of burnt skin filled the air.
By the time Agent 47 stood up to leave, though the students didn't realize it, they were shaking.
"Hideki Yoshihara is dead. One more to go."
...
Satoshi lifted the sheet off of her body, grimacing at what used to be his sister's face.
"Best guess is, the rock dropped from the rooftop," a guard said beside him. "There's... no way to know who did it."
He let the sheet fall, pushing his glasses up. Satoshi looked around as CICADA cordoned off the courtyard, then up at the sakura blossom. "I still remember Mother's last visit," he began. "We'd been in here for a few months by that point. Subjected to the GED over a hundred times. Everyone thought we were sick in the head. I had the misfortune of being lumped in with my siblings. While my siblings became more crazy, I only wanted to go back home. When Mother visited that time, I never forgot the look in her eye. The gentle gaze that, expecting her children, vanished at the sight of monsters."
He shook his head. "That was the last time I saw her. And my younger siblings' actions have since gone unpunished. Rather than fix us, she thinks it's best to keep us here where we won't hurt anyone who matters."
Satoshi stepped up to the now-uncomfortable guard. "Perhaps she's right about them, but if she would look at me now! If she knew the things I have done since!"
Then an orderly arrived. In the same sheepish tone as the last one, he said, "There's been a problem... Hideki, he... Something went wrong with the GED. He's gone."
Satoshi looked back at the guard. Replacing his stoic expression was a smile stretching ear-to-ear. "Surely Mother will call now, right?"
He set off at once for the watchtower.
...
Agent 47 took a glass elevator up the tower. As he passed by the dozens of floors, he saw just how many were are empty, their sole purpose being the tinted windows and giving the illusion of all-seeing eyes.
Upon reaching the top floor, he was presented a luxurious lounge area with a full view of the campus on all sides. After some double doors, he found himself in what appeared to be a meeting area. Some chairs and couches surrounding a table, two curving staircases to a balcony of bookshelves, and up against the window-side wall.
There was a landline on its own pedestal. Beside it were a few thumbtacks. On the pedestal and the floor beneath were wiped splatter stains: blood. 47 retrieved his vial of TTX, dipping each thumbtack into it.
Moving onto the landline, he tapped his earpiece. "Diana?"
"Myung has supplied us with her number. I'll read it out to you."
He punched it in.
After a moment, Nozomi's voice came through. "This is Director Nozomi of CICADA."
"I'm calling from the Tokyo Academy of Reason and Reflection, concerning two of your three children."
There was a pause on the other end. A faint sigh. "Explain."
"There is no easy way to say this. Kayoko and Hideki are dead." He heard a shuffle. "It seems they perished in unfortunate accidents. Satoshi is on his way to talk to you."
"I-I can't," she stammered. "I'm sorry. Thank you for telling me, but I must go—"
"You don't want to talk to your son?"
"Excuse me?"
"The least you could do is offer him some comfort. You left him here for 35 years in what is essentially a prison. You owe him at least your voice."
"That's... I thought it would be best for them and society to keep them here... We're not meant for each other's lives. I'm not meant to be their guardian."
"Satoshi has done nothing but think about you since you last saw each other. Please, spare some words. To him, you're the only guardian he's known."
She took a breath. "I will."
Agent 47 left the landline open, standing beside it.
Soon enough, Satoshi ran through the doors, his eyes landing on them. Agent 47 motioned to the phone. "Right on time," he said. "Your mother's on the line."
Satoshi almost tripped over himself, running over. He snatched the phone into his hands, almost hyperventilating as tears threatened to trickle down his face. Without thinking, he bit his nails. As he trained himself to do, he instantly stopped and pricked his thumb with the thumbtack, driving the point deep inside until he winced.
Seeing this, Agent 47 made his way to the elevator.
"M-Mother? It's me. Satoshi."
"Satoshi? I... I thought you'd have forgotten about me."
"Forgotten? Why would I forget about my dear mother?"
"I'm sorry... I thought..."
"No, mother, no, it's okay... All will be well now. Now that Hideki and Kayoko are dead."
"What?"
"Now that those problems are gone, you have me! A normal, functioning son! Someone who doesn't get off of violence! Once we go home, we'll live happily together like a family is meant to!"
"Satoshi..."
Aoki had announced the early closure of the cultural festival, requiring all guests to leave campus grounds. Agent 47 joined the swarm of people.
He spotted Kayoko's three 'friends' huddled against each other in the hall. They were each a sickly pale, keeping quiet. Each donned the eyes of a corpse.
Gorou joined a group of students to the side who had clued each other in on the events, specifically the deaths of the two tyrannical Yoshihara siblings. In a time where the future wasn't certain, he needed anything he could lean on.
Agent 47 got back into his car. He retrieved a set of binoculars, zooming in on the watchtower for the tiny figure of Satoshi. TTX took about 15 minutes to feel the effects of.
It would travel from his thumb to his arm, then to his chest.
Satoshi felt a sand-like sensation in his hand. The phone dropped as he lost control of it, and he started hyperventilating.
"Satoshi? What happened?"
He grabbed it with his other hand, whimpering as the sensation spread to his arm. "I-I don't know!" he screamed. "Something happened to my arm! I... I can't move it!"
"Calm down! What do you feel?"
"It's weird and tacky, and I can't move them. Mother, it's spreading to my chest!"
"It can't be... Satoshi. Did you do anything beforehand that could've sent something into your bloodstream?"
"I-I poked my finger with a thumbtack... I started doing that every time I did something weird—to remind myself to be normal..." He wrapped his able hand around his shoulder, trying to clamp it.
"TTX poisoning..."
He began wheezing. "It's getting hard to breathe... Mother. Help me, please..."
"Satoshi? Are you there...?"
Agent 47 put his binoculars away. "All targets neutralized. Good work, 47. You have some time before we learn details about the funeral." He drove off, leaving TARR in what would become its ruins.
JAPAN'S INFAMOUS TARR INSTITUTE FORCED TO SHUT DOWN BY CICADA
Three die during disastrous cultural festival!
The Tokyo Academy of Reason and Reflection has long been a controversial figure in Japan's history of mental health. In a culture that has been shifting to a more positive direction, TARR's presence remained a hot topic of debate. It claims to cure mental illnesses through the usage of an electrical shock device known as the GED. TARR has opened annual cultural festivals to demonstrate its effectiveness on its students.
This all changed after this year's event, during which a news crew caught an ongoing brawl in one classroom. What the cameras did not catch were the deaths of three students, the facts of which only emerged the day after. The information comes from a spokesperson for CICADA, a shock to everyone who knows that they've been a constant partner of the institution since its founding.
CICADA has leaked a litany of information regarding TARR, including its treatment of its students and the tyrannical way it was run. Human rights organizations have become involved. Headmaster Aoki Hisashi faces countless lawsuits, and the future of the institution appears bleak. It's a reality that many have expressed delight for, including former attendees of the academy, who have now spoken out and corroborated the accusations.
Speculation places Director Yoshihara Nozomi at the head of the mounting pressure, of whom rumors have circulated that her children have been in attendance...
A PROMISE TO ERADICATE EGYPT'S WEALTH GAP; AND ITS FAILURE
It has been a few months since Hasani Ini-herit, a middle-class carpet merchant, suddenly found himself in charge of a nation that has nearly collapsed. After President Morcos' assassination, his son endorsed Hasani and the ongoing revolution, claiming to speak for the people.
The leadership has made definitive action in their wishes. Wealthy families have been raided, their property and money "confiscated" through force. Hasani in a recent interview expressed that the collected wealth would be distributed among the populace. Having come from a similar place, he wishes to raise everyone else to proper living.
However, since the uprising, Hasani's unfounded leadership has been rocked with scandals. Footage of areas akin to concentration camps has leaked to the public, with terror being the common reaction. These are said to house upper-class individuals who refused to cooperate.
Moreover, our teams in Egypt report that impoverished areas have not changed at all. In fact, more money is being spent on tracking down the wealthy individuals than on the poor. This is despite the fact that many of the top wealthy of Egypt have long since fled the country.
This begs the question: Where is the money going...?
AN OVERVIEW OF THE STRUCTURE OF KHANDANYANG
The leader of Khandanyang, Sun Po, has recently declared they would be ending their nuclear weapons program later in the year. The announcement came as a shock around the world, with many ripe with understandable skepticism.
Khandanyang is a highly centralized totalitarian country remaining from the Soviet Union's influence in the 1940s. After America's failure of the Khandanyangan War, which coincided with the Korean War, the country became increasingly isolated and controlled. Through consolidation of power, its leaders have established total control over the populace and the way its citizens see the world.
The government has been run by its current dictator—officially the Supreme Leader—Sun Po, since 1992. All major governing structures are run by him, with Legislative power falling in the hands of the Khandanyang Cabinet, headed by his son, the Crown Prince, Chen Po.
Unique to this country, however, is the second-in-power position of the Royal Soothsayer. The individual is known only by her title, the Daoyin—a word more commonly understood as a method of Daoist meditation. This individual is enigmatic and kept a tight secret by the government, though it's speculated that she influences Sun Po's decisions through tellings of the future...
"Astounding work as usual." Myung turned off the projector. "I told Surtr it was a good choice to rope you in. My men will escort you back to your hotel. But remember, we still have eyes on you." She offered a wiry smile, then left.
"Pleasant..." Diana looked across from her. Clera was packing her things in a hurry. It would've been a waste to leave things as is. "Clera?"
She paused and perked up.
"I have to admit... I'm impressed by how you got the upper hand of me. I never saw it coming."
Clera grinned and blushed. She put her things to the side as she said, "Well, it's an honor to have tricked the Diana Burnwood. I always thought the brass was underestimating me!"
"Indeed! I also can't get my mind off of the chip. It's remarkable that you have gained access to such technology. Thanks to that, Agent 47 could be yours, all from your efforts."
"The chip?" Clera wavered, though she recovered as she ran a hand over her hair. "Oh. Yeah! It took me a long time to get its design right. Neuroscience seems like it should be a straightforward path once you know psychology as a handler, but it really isn't."
Changing the topic; the vagueness of her explanation... So she had no part in its creation. "I'd imagine! Where did you get the resources for such a device?"
"I can't really tell you that, can I?" She flashed a smug grin. "I had it checked by other experts—for the technical bits I couldn't understand. But everything else, I made!"
It was outsourced, then. "Simply marvelous. What else can you tell me about it?"
"The GPS tracker," she said in an instant, relaxing her shoulders. "That's something I'm particularly proud of. I wish I could tell you every detail, but..." She clicked her tongue. "Shame. You're still not one of us."
Diana supposed the humbleness only came with the things Clera wasn't certain about. With how quickly she jumped on the tracker, that was likely the only thing she came up with. She nodded back. "I suppose not. I'll see you next contract?"
"You can count on that." The two started packing again, and it wasn't long before they emptied the room.
While in the limousine, Diana harkened back to all her past interactions with Clera. There's a multitude of ICA tech suppliers, and a GPS chip would've been no problem for any of them. But Clera is smarter than to use one in the current connections. Given her relation with Myung, it was safe to assume they covered their tracks with someone off the grid.
And once Diana found him, she could get her hands on the exact dataset inside of 47's chip. Then it would be as simple as overriding it with another source. And that would be one step closer to freeing him...