Grief In the Shell: Madokapunk IC Thread

[Draken]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[City Hall, Citizen's Plaza]

"One last question, sir!" The conference seems to be winding down - or reeling back, as the case might be, most dissuaded from questioning by the ominous glare - but one reporter musters the verve to step forward. "Mr. Sato was the one to appoint you to your present office, and has made a platform of strengthening the NMSF through his administration! Do you, as an individual or as the Captain of the force, have anything you'd like to say about his death? What does this mean for the city?"

Leon's 'eye' adjusts itself a bit.

*Bzzt* "Whatever I have to say about his death as an individual, I will do so at his memorial service in my capacity as a friend, not here while performing my duty as captain of the Defense Force."

"And in my capacity as captain, all I have to say in this matter is that I deeply hope that mayor Arata's eventual successor sees the wisdom in maintaining his policies, specially in regards to the security of our fair city."

[Selinia]

[Neo-Mitakihara Streets]
[Going Fast]

Spoiler

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Makoto's bike sped through the night like a blaze out of control. An even more apt metaphor considering his red mane of hair and the color of the motorcycle itself. The integrated GPS app showed him the paths with the least amount of traffic and the most green lights, ensuring he could afford to not slow down for silly "pedestrians" or other cars. Those few he met on his way he weaved past with alarming disregard for their reactions - but the wind was blowing so fast past his ears that he couldn't listen to their cries of indignation anyways.

Any traffic tickets he accrued were swiftly taken care of by his family's automated legal system. Each of these joyrides typically ran him on the upwards of the low hundreds of credits, but then again, he had enough on his personal account that he could ride each day for the rest of his days and still not run out of money. That's how wealthy the Kujoh were.

It probably helped that most of the time, his bike's scrambler managed to make the cameras miss out on his ID. Although pattern tracing could later confirm him to be the same rider, that didn't hold up as proof of identification - and his personal scrambler was legal on account of him being a mashou. (Can't have a wraith attack doing more damage because those that could fight it were stuck in traffic, after all.)

Simply put, Makoto skirted the laws of transit much like he skirted the legality of anything else.

The Kujoh family thrived on technicalities. Their wheedling and manipulation of the fine print in every regulatory law or business ethics practice was remarkable in both its breadth and its pettiness, no issue too small for attention if it could carve a higher resting place for the precious bottom line. In a way it was almost impressive that such a raving clan of sociopaths had managed to not only prevent itself from imploding, but actually thrive in the modern market. "It wouldn't cost you a thing", some might say of a measure of leniency or uncalculated kindness, but that was nothing more than a bald-faced lie. It would always cost something, however small. And not spending those somethings without good cause was how they'd gotten this far.

In a way, one could say this was one of the few ways that Makoto did not take after his family heritage. They thrived on technicalities, while he blasted past them in an exhilarating rush. Technically, his bike's scrambler was not of legal use when not actively pursuing a wraith, and technically any one of the city's supercomputers could pull a few threads and draw out the culprit while barely missing a cycle - but they didn't. Technically, it wasn't legal to race a high-speed skytram at the side of the tracks - but nobody was going to call him on it. Technically, technically, technically - all easy things to ignore with the law willfully turning a blind eye to his antics. A gentleman's agreement between any mashou and the forces of order, unspoken but mutually understood.

"Don't cause TOO much trouble."

But honestly, what was he even doing? Not going anywhere, and not even going nowhere at his best pace - circumstances had conspired to put him nine seconds (and change) behind his best time for this route. An unusual number of people out for this time of morning meant an unusual number of people to avoid having to outright run over with his speeding cycle. Which in fairness, he could also probably get out of as long as he didn't kill anyone, but that might actually require effort. At this point, even with the new shortcut (a construction site's cranes made for some interesting ramps between levels eleven and fourteen of Kanjoro Tower) he wasn't going to make up for the lost time. No point in a tremendous rush.

Slowing down a bit eventually brings Makoto past a public screen currently broadcasting Captain Gomes's press conference. Murder, looks like. Well then, that whole tangle of events might have something worth killing some free time on. City in this mood would make a great excuse for some good old fashioned vigilantism. Or maybe it'd be more interesting to just tune in to the Wishcraft channels and see about getting in some wraith-hunting, always good sport, that.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[City Hall, Mayor's Office]

Spoiler

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Nadica takes a drag and another swig as she processes this information.

"Any notable meetings within the last week? Month? Any meetings that got heated or ended suddenly? Any unplanned visits, or anything that seemed to concern the old goat?"

"As usual, an individual in Mr. Sato's position encountered opposition regularly, which occasionally escalated to bursts of outrage or fierce political declarations. In particular, he continued to experience resistance to the further escalation of funding to research and the Neo-Mitakihara Security Force from several vectors, most noteworthy among them a visit from Japan Self-Defense Forces representative - one Mr. Yamaguchi Isamu - on January 17th."

An image is projected. Nadica doesn't recognize this one, but she knows the type. Suit and shades over a body that's probably stuffed with cybernetics, short hair, clean-shaven. He could honestly be exchanged for just about any other military agent and you'd barely know the difference looking at him.

"The JSDF continues to express concern over the degree of independence with which the NMSF operates, as well as the relative military prowess of Neo-Mitakihara as an individual entity. While they recognize the unique conditions of this environment, the disproportionate strength of this city still registers as a potential concern in their analysis. Ultimately, Mr. Sato succeeded in allaying Mr. Yamaguchi's concerns, however, and the meeting ended on an amicable note. Similar could be said of Mr. Sato's other more heated meetings. He felt that the ability to calm tempers and talk down fears was one of the greatest assets a leader could possess, and practiced it often."

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

Spoiler

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Leysa's "bike" is a vehicle of unknown construction, but what it is known to be is sleek, agile, and very, very fast. Leysa touches down outside of the cordoned area, sliding off the seat of her bike before snapping her fingers and putting it into locked mode. She strides towards the very edge of the crime scene, zeroing in on one of the security force members near the perimeter.

"I'm from the WCF, I need to talk to your boss."

"Ma'am, this is a NMSF security site, civilians shouldn't be here. But..." The officer seems to hesitate a moment, checking a feed. "...Mashou assistance is currently being accepted, with some supervision. You'll want to talk to the officers over there. Impossible to miss. Just keep in mind this is an active crime scene investigation, be careful where you're going."

Gesturing towards Satou and Duncan, the officer pauses to add this particular event into the regular update feed being streamed to the Captain. That didn't take long - at least Leysa is one of the more competent and experienced ones.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[City Hall, Citizen's Plaza]

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Leon's 'eye' adjusts itself a bit.

*Bzzt* "Whatever I have to say about his death as an individual, I will do so at his memorial service in my capacity as a friend, not here while performing my duty as captain of the Defense Force."

"And in my capacity as captain, all I have to say in this matter is that I deeply hope that mayor Arata's eventual successor sees the wisdom in maintaining his policies, specially in regards to the security of our fair city."

There's a little murmuring at that, but it's cut off quickly by the city official sharing (a slightly less prominent spot) on the platform. She clears her throat - not actually to deal with anything blocking it, mind, just as a reflexive action to vocal amplifiers kicking in. Most anyone planning on speaking publicly had them, relying on speakers alone could be less than idea, and it was an exceedingly simple operation.

"That will be all for the questions at the moment! The city appreciates the concern of its citizens, but further queries should be directed to the NMSF or our own media contact department. Both groups will be doing everything in their power to keep the public up to date on relevant details to this case. In the meantime, Captain Gomes will better spend his time furthering this investigation than answering questions others could do as well." She offers a nod to the police chief, and there's some applause for him. More than he usually gets anyway.

[Dorizzit]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
Monument Point: Crime Scene

"Thank you, officer."

Leysa waits until she's out of hearing before muttering under her breath.

"This ain't my first rodeo. 'Civilian' my butt."

Leysa is familiar enough with NMSF protocol to avoid stepping on any toes, literally or metaphorically, before she reaches the officers in charge. She waves, half-smiling.

"Sup."

Spoiler

Show

Satou or Duncan can know Leysa either personally or by reputation; they've both probably at least heard of her, even if they don't recognize her on sight. As always, final decision goes to the player.

[Kuroimaken]

[Neo-Mitakihara]

Makoto braked in frustration. He just wasn't able to clear his head under these conditions. Between his unusually fast mind and the lack of a challenge, he was missing the sharp focus he required for something to occupy him for a while.

For a moment, he scoffed at the notion that most boys his age would be more concerned with losing their virginities than they would be with not having anything worthwhile to do.

The mayor's death was an interesting prospect to tackle, but too high-profile for him to keep himself unofficially involved - no sense in ruffling any feathers early. He could get involved at a latter date if he so chose, and besides, the NMSF had plenty of competent personnel - he should know, from the first few times he played at evading them (and he was found out each time). The only way they wouldn't be able to crack this would be if someone REALLY important didn't want them to.

Suspicious timing overall, though. The mayor was actually one of those politicians you hear no trash about - the man with a plan and a winning smile. His detractors would often punish that shiny image claiming the whole thing to be a bluster. Makoto didn't know the Mayor on a personal level (outside of the Kujoh family social circles, anyway), but it was no mystery to the boy that few people could get away with being THAT squeaky clean without a skeleton or twelve in their closet. Similarly, no one with a cause to champion could get away with being suspected of such a crime - they risked the replacement being more pliable but less willing to risk his or her reputation, or worse.

These thoughts swirled through Makoto's head as he turned to the Wishcraft foundation channel for news of whatever the most dangerous wraith on their hands was. He wasn't expecting much - anything serious would be broadcasting over regular channels already.

[KnightDisciple]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]
(Finally Free of Satou's Monologue)

Satou nods. May as well release the kid from his presence, at this point. Nothing further needed from direct contact with the scene. Good as it felt to investigate in-person, there were now...inquiries to be made.

"...Sounds like I should visit a couple of old friends, then. Rei, send the boy the map."

He looks down at the young tech.

"...Yuki, right? You seem like a kid who likes a physics puzzle. Get the entry vector, and point of contact, as narrow as you can. Put the point of contact on the model of the mayor in my map. Extend the angle cone from the point of contact, and query the memories on the air quality sensors along it for any sign of rocket fuels. Figure out, given this was a high-calibur round, and the amount of exhaust, how large of an adjustment the 'jet was making. See if you can use that to put together a path through the city."

Satou turns, and starts clanking out.

"Let me know what you find. Turnbull, care to join me, or are you taking charge here?"

Turnbull, glad he doesn't have to poke the dead mayor's head but still wearing gloves for the moment, eyes the overall situation before turning to Satou.

"Don't see why I ought to stay; the lads and lassies out here know how to crunch numbers and swab for evidence. We can make another sweep later. Besides, I just ate two breakfast burritos on the way, no way I'm swimming so soon."

Well that's an old wives tale but nobody's gonna tell him that. Except Satou, maybe. Dunny moves to leave with Satou.

"So that means you're stuck with me, Old Man."

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

"Y-yes sir! Moko Yuki, sir, and... that would do it, wouldn't it? I'll uh, I'll work on that, and submit it to... to Omoikane. Kami will need some time to crunch the specifics, but uh, we'll drop you a line as soon as it's done, sir. The rest of the team is working hard too, we won't let the city down!" The kid snaps a salute, and hesitates, as if unsure whether to ask something. Eventually, curiosity wins out.

"...uh. Not to intrude, sir. But, is it true that you once took on two wraiths with only one bullet in your clip and survived? I, uh. Read a lot of old reports, studying for this job and, sir. Just... with you and the Steel Bull on this case, this guy doesn't stand a chance! Whoever they are, you've got this!" He gives a shaky thumbs-up, then turns back to his work, clearly having exhausted the last measures of his resolve.

Duncan is glad for the sunglasses, they hide him rolling his eyes at that nickname. He's never going to live the Bull Horn And Taco Incident down, is he?

Then he gets a sly grin on his face and speaks up before Satou has a chance to reply.

"It was three Wraiths and two bullets, Mister Yuki. And good work giving us the information so far. Keep it up. You lot are what keep me and the Old Man here in a job!"

Duncan laughs and lowers his shades long enough to give the nervous tech a conspiratorial wink, before pushing them back up and giving the kid a thumbs-up back.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
Monument Point: Crime Scene

"Thank you, officer."

Leysa waits until she's out of hearing before muttering under her breath.

"This ain't my first rodeo. 'Civilian' my butt."

Leysa is familiar enough with NMSF protocol to avoid stepping on any toes, literally or metaphorically, before she reaches the officers in charge. She waves, half-smiling.

"Sup."

Spoiler

Show

Satou or Duncan can know Leysa either personally or by reputation; they've both probably at least heard of her, even if they don't recognize her on sight. As always, final decision goes to the player.

Dunny sobers a bit as Leysa shows up. He knows her, though not extremely well. Being around someone who looks like a "wee lass" but is old enough to be his parent or even grandparent is never quite comfortable for the giant Scotsman. Still, Leysa did good work. Even if this was a bit outside her normal bailiwick.

He murmurs to Satou, "I'll take this one, Satou."

That's comparatively serious for the gaijin! He waves back at Leysa and takes a couple steps over, offering her his right hand.

"Miss Leysa, a pleasure as always. Bit confusin' how you got wind o' this already but I'm bettin' you're here to help, so no complaints too much from me. You been stayin' out of too much trouble?"

Considering who just asked that some bystanders may wonder just what Duncan Turnbull III classifies as "too much trouble". It probably involves way, way too much paperwork.

[Dorizzit]

Spoiler

Show

Dunny sobers a bit as Leysa shows up. He knows her, though not extremely well. Being around someone who looks like a "wee lass" but is old enough to be his parent or even grandparent is never quite comfortable for the giant Scotsman. Still, Leysa did good work. Even if this was a bit outside her normal bailiwick.

He murmurs to Satou, "I'll take this one, Satou."

That's comparatively serious for the gaijin! He waves back at Leysa and takes a couple steps over, offering her his right hand.

"Miss Leysa, a pleasure as always. Bit confusin' how you got wind o' this already but I'm bettin' you're here to help, so no complaints too much from me. You been stayin' out of too much trouble?"

Considering who just asked that some bystanders may wonder just what Duncan Turnbull III classifies as "too much trouble". It probably involves way, way too much paperwork.

[Ward 5]
Monument Point

Leysa's smile widens a bit, taking Duncan's hand. Her shake is firm, but not an attempt to overpower him.

"Turnbull. Glad to see the NMSF has quality officers on this. I don't ask where Wishcraft gets their info from, and they don't ask about what I do off the clock. It works out all right. And of course I have. Trouble tries to stay out of me."

She winks at the last statement. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Leysa's expression grows neutral.

"Wishcraft asked me to serve as a liaison for them until we get to the bottom of this or give up. With your permission, I'll just shadow you'n Satou. If I can help, let me know. Otherwise, I'm just as happy staying out of your way. Not my area."

[Draken]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[City Hall, Citizen's Plaza]

There's a little murmuring at that, but it's cut off quickly by the city official sharing (a slightly less prominent spot) on the platform. She clears her throat - not actually to deal with anything blocking it, mind, just as a reflexive action to vocal amplifiers kicking in. Most anyone planning on speaking publicly had them, relying on speakers alone could be less than idea, and it was an exceedingly simple operation.

"That will be all for the questions at the moment! The city appreciates the concern of its citizens, but further queries should be directed to the NMSF or our own media contact department. Both groups will be doing everything in their power to keep the public up to date on relevant details to this case. In the meantime, Captain Gomes will better spend his time furthering this investigation than answering questions others could do as well." She offers a nod to the police chief, and there's some applause for him. More than he usually gets anyway.

Leon nods back and proceeds into the Town Hall, he's had Novak on a secondary feed all this time and that saves him some time in reviewing Arata's Miko, but there are other things for him to examine in the Mayor's office. Particularly the parts of the man's workstation that are not tied to the Kami systems.

Which means, yes, paper.

[Sucrose]

Spoiler

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[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]
Turnbull, glad he doesn't have to poke the dead mayor's head but still wearing gloves for the moment, eyes the overall situation before turning to Satou.

"Don't see why I ought to stay; the lads and lassies out here know how to crunch numbers and swab for evidence. We can make another sweep later. Besides, I just ate two breakfast burritos on the way, no way I'm swimming so soon."

Well that's an old wives tale but nobody's gonna tell him that. Except Satou, maybe. Dunny moves to leave with Satou.

"So that means you're stuck with me, Old Man."


Duncan is glad for the sunglasses, they hide him rolling his eyes at that nickname. He's never going to live the Bull Horn And Taco Incident down, is he?

Then he gets a sly grin on his face and speaks up before Satou has a chance to reply.

"It was three Wraiths and two bullets, Mister Yuki. And good work giving us the information so far. Keep it up. You lot are what keep me and the Old Man here in a job!"

Duncan laughs and lowers his shades long enough to give the nervous tech a conspiratorial wink, before pushing them back up and giving the kid a thumbs-up back.


Dunny sobers a bit as Leysa shows up. He knows her, though not extremely well. Being around someone who looks like a "wee lass" but is old enough to be his parent or even grandparent is never quite comfortable for the giant Scotsman. Still, Leysa did good work. Even if this was a bit outside her normal bailiwick.

He murmurs to Satou, "I'll take this one, Satou."

That's comparatively serious for the gaijin! He waves back at Leysa and takes a couple steps over, offering her his right hand.

"Miss Leysa, a pleasure as always. Bit confusin' how you got wind o' this already but I'm bettin' you're here to help, so no complaints too much from me. You been stayin' out of too much trouble?"

Considering who just asked that some bystanders may wonder just what Duncan Turnbull III classifies as "too much trouble". It probably involves way, way too much paperwork.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

Satou sighs, and grinds to a halt, at the question, and Turnbull's response. Man his age should know better than to let a boy go looking for heroes in the scrapyard. Kid'll catch tetanus.

Just as he's about to do the decent thing and provide warning, though, another old war machine arrives on the scene. Granted, one in much better condition, despite the far longer service life. He just nods to Turnbull, doing little in greeting beyond turning his shade-covered eye upon Leysa, and giving a slight incline of the head.

As she suggests that she shadow them, he lowers his head for a moment, before giving a nod of assent, and butts in slightly.

"...You know the drill, Miss Leysa. If we'll be deputizing you, I'll need to filter any messages you send. Don't want to let the perpetrator know what steps we're taking."

There's a chance that this could come back to bite them, at some point. Wishcraft always has reasons to want to get involved in these cases. Not always the ones that are on the table. But turning down her help would send its own message.

...Besides...Leysa's helped more investigations than a lot of the Force. She knows what has to be done, to find any justice in these sorts of crimes. And she's always acted on the level. Never tried to twist my arm.

"...You weren't thrown off, even with where you were going. There's someone you really trust, outside the NMSF?"

Rei sounds almost happy.

Satou rolls his eyes, behind his shades, and begins walking again.

[strawberryman]

[Ward 1]
(Mayor's Office)

Nadica rubs the side of her head with her knuckles. "...okay, I'm going to ask you something really, really, hard since you're a proto-model and this probably goes way out of your programming, but seriously, did you notice anything out of the ordinary at all? You've got a brain, basically. Use it." She sighs, not counting on much from this.

Idly, she starts reading the notebooks and other bits of paper for a lead.

[Ward 6]
(Yumeiji Tower, Koizumi Apartment)
[7:00]

As Chiyo leaves and Akio starts the cleanup from breakfast, Rio moves to help as usual, but her dad simply takes the plate and waves it off. "...I can take care of that, so... since you've got some time, why not practice the piano a bit? It makes these chores a little less dull when you're providing a soundtrack."

Rio blinks a bit, but nods, walking from the kitchen to the living room. There were no dividing walls between the spaces, the living room full of fancy modern furniture... and then, a classy, well-kept baby grand piano, looking out on the city with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as in many rooms (though the living room did lead out to a fair-sized balcony). Rio sighs as she sits on the bench, slides the cover open, stretches her fingers a bit... and then plays.

Akio closes his eyes in appreciation before continuing with the dishes. Kin turns his head a bit, furrows his brow, and stands up, padding over to the window with a watchful gaze.

____

A petite white creature with unblinking red eyes and small neutral "smile" tilts its head at Kin's motion, sitting on the balcony railing.

It's almost as if it can see us.

A second of the identical creatures looks a bit more aloof, focusing on Rio. Well, it can't. There's no reason to be alarmed.

...well, it was only a theory.

Quite. How much longer do we wait?

The right moment will come up. Soon, even. Red marble-like eyes stare at Rio.

____

Rio continues playing for nearly an hour before her phone buzzes, a notification that her tram to school would be along soon. She picks up her bag with a sigh after looking at the notification. "...I'm leaving!" Akio, who had since taken to reading the morning news on a tablet, looks up with a smile and wave.

"See you tonight, Rio. I'm fixing gyūdon, so try not to fill up on snacks at your clubs." Rio gives an embarrassed grimace and nod before stepping for the door. She turns to face Kin with a confused look as he's still looking onto the balcony. She gives a short whistle and the dog turns to tap after her after a moment, following her out the door.

The two walk through the quiet luxury halls to the elevator lobby, and down to the tram level, no one batting an eye as she swipes her credit stick twice for her and Kin. The futuristic tram slides into the tower's station with nary a screech or groan, a silent harbinger of the age of technology. Rio steps on, and so does Kin. Ever a problem in Japan, the crowding factor was one of the first things to cover with these new trams, but with less people going to work in this era, it turned out to be a moot point. Still, people had other places to go and there were plenty of kids on their way to school, so that isn't to say that it was empty.

Rio's head rings a little bit at the conversations surrounding her. She never did like train rides. She just... focuses out the window, looking up at the city as it passes by. Gigantic billboards with the mashou of the week. Advertisements with Mashou idols endorsing a product. Wishcraft billboards basically promoting the "profession". Those sure were controversial in some neighborhoods. There were some rumors of a particular poorly-received mashou burning any she saw. Rio didn't think much of those types. She liked the heroes. The ones that weren't out for selfish gain. But... she couldn't really do that, could she? She didn't have anything selfless to wish for.

Oh well.

Before long, the tram pulls to her stop, and rides another elevator to her floor, the Neo-Mitakihara Growth and Development Center, a private institution for helping... those like Rio to reach certain social and education benchmarks.

[Ward 4]
(Neo-Mitakihara Growth and Development Center)

Rio walks through the lobby quietly, lone security guard waving her by lazily. Not much more to do. Even Kin wasn't really a problem, the academy encouraged unconventional methods to boost productivity, and Kin definitely boosted Rio's receptivity to the courses. Making a beeline for her classroom, Rio sits in her seat with 20 minutes to spare, not terribly minding the bustle around her. It was still a smaller class than most mainstream schools, which helped. Kin sits next to her, between her and the window, and accepts a few scratches behind the ear or pats from those familiar with him.

Rio responds to some chitchat, but mostly waits for class to start, idly opening a new document on her tablet, pulling out a stylus and writing with neat, orderly characters.

To Lightstriker Saya...

[Dorizzit]

Spoiler

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[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

Satou sighs, and grinds to a halt, at the question, and Turnbull's response. Man his age should know better than to let a boy go looking for heroes in the scrapyard. Kid'll catch tetanus.

Just as he's about to do the decent thing and provide warning, though, another old war machine arrives on the scene. Granted, one in much better condition, despite the far longer service life. He just nods to Turnbull, doing little in greeting beyond turning his shade-covered eye upon Leysa, and giving a slight incline of the head.

As she suggests that she shadow them, he lowers his head for a moment, before giving a nod of assent, and butts in slightly.

"...You know the drill, Miss Leysa. If we'll be deputizing you, I'll need to filter any messages you send. Don't want to let the perpetrator know what steps we're taking."

There's a chance that this could come back to bite them, at some point. Wishcraft always has reasons to want to get involved in these cases. Not always the ones that are on the table. But turning down her help would send its own message.

...Besides...Leysa's helped more investigations than a lot of the Force. She knows what has to be done, to find any justice in these sorts of crimes. And she's always acted on the level. Never tried to twist my arm.

"...You weren't thrown off, even with where you were going. There's someone you really trust, outside the NMSF?"

Rei sounds almost happy.

Satou rolls his eyes, behind his shades, and begins walking again.

[Neo-Mitakihara]
Monument Point

Leysa pops a thumbs up to Satou, flashing her enigmatic half-smile once more.

"We're all on the same side, here."

She flips out her phone.

"Miko. Send all outgoing messages to Satou for release."
"Understood, ma'am."

[KnightDisciple]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

[Ward 5]
Monument Point

Leysa's smile widens a bit, taking Duncan's hand. Her shake is firm, but not an attempt to overpower him.

"Turnbull. Glad to see the NMSF has quality officers on this. I don't ask where Wishcraft gets their info from, and they don't ask about what I do off the clock. It works out all right. And of course I have. Trouble tries to stay out of me."

She winks at the last statement. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Leysa's expression grows neutral.

"Wishcraft asked me to serve as a liaison for them until we get to the bottom of this or give up. With your permission, I'll just shadow you'n Satou. If I can help, let me know. Otherwise, I'm just as happy staying out of your way. Not my area."

Probably good she didn't try that with that hand; no one would have ended up happy.

"We'll let the Chief deal with Wishcraft, so long as they don't sic anyone else on us. You're a wee lassie, you won't get in our way."

Yes that's a height joke from the pale giant ginger man. No one is really shocked.

"'m fine with you shadowing. Maybe you'll spot something we won't."

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 5]
[Monument Point - Crime Scene]

Satou sighs, and grinds to a halt, at the question, and Turnbull's response. Man his age should know better than to let a boy go looking for heroes in the scrapyard. Kid'll catch tetanus.

Just as he's about to do the decent thing and provide warning, though, another old war machine arrives on the scene. Granted, one in much better condition, despite the far longer service life. He just nods to Turnbull, doing little in greeting beyond turning his shade-covered eye upon Leysa, and giving a slight incline of the head.

As she suggests that she shadow them, he lowers his head for a moment, before giving a nod of assent, and butts in slightly.

"...You know the drill, Miss Leysa. If we'll be deputizing you, I'll need to filter any messages you send. Don't want to let the perpetrator know what steps we're taking."

There's a chance that this could come back to bite them, at some point. Wishcraft always has reasons to want to get involved in these cases. Not always the ones that are on the table. But turning down her help would send its own message.

...Besides...Leysa's helped more investigations than a lot of the Force. She knows what has to be done, to find any justice in these sorts of crimes. And she's always acted on the level. Never tried to twist my arm.

"...You weren't thrown off, even with where you were going. There's someone you really trust, outside the NMSF?"

Rei sounds almost happy.

Satou rolls his eyes, behind his shades, and begins walking again.

Dunny just pointed a thumb at Satou.

"What the walking WD-40 advertisement said."

[Neo-Mitakihara]
Monument Point

Leysa pops a thumbs up to Satou, flashing her enigmatic half-smile once more.

"We're all on the same side, here."

She flips out her phone.

"Miko. Send all outgoing messages to Satou for release."
"Understood, ma'am."

With that out of the way, Dunny settled for following Satou.

"So if we're not riding herd on wet-behind-the-ears CSI techs with more questions than sense, where exactly are we headed, Old Man? You'll have to give me a bit o' leeway. I haven't had my fifth expresso yet."

He's....probably not joking. His gene mods would mean there's little long-term health risk, but he's clearly not quite at his peak. That shift he pulled was probably long to start with.

[Selinia]

[Neo-Mitakihara]
[Going Somewhere]

Spoiler

Show

Makoto braked in frustration. He just wasn't able to clear his head under these conditions. Between his unusually fast mind and the lack of a challenge, he was missing the sharp focus he required for something to occupy him for a while.

For a moment, he scoffed at the notion that most boys his age would be more concerned with losing their virginities than they would be with not having anything worthwhile to do.

The mayor's death was an interesting prospect to tackle, but too high-profile for him to keep himself unofficially involved - no sense in ruffling any feathers early. He could get involved at a latter date if he so chose, and besides, the NMSF had plenty of competent personnel - he should know, from the first few times he played at evading them (and he was found out each time). The only way they wouldn't be able to crack this would be if someone REALLY important didn't want them to.

Suspicious timing overall, though. The mayor was actually one of those politicians you hear no trash about - the man with a plan and a winning smile. His detractors would often punish that shiny image claiming the whole thing to be a bluster. Makoto didn't know the Mayor on a personal level (outside of the Kujoh family social circles, anyway), but it was no mystery to the boy that few people could get away with being THAT squeaky clean without a skeleton or twelve in their closet. Similarly, no one with a cause to champion could get away with being suspected of such a crime - they risked the replacement being more pliable but less willing to risk his or her reputation, or worse.

These thoughts swirled through Makoto's head as he turned to the Wishcraft foundation channel for news of whatever the most dangerous wraith on their hands was. He wasn't expecting much - anything serious would be broadcasting over regular channels already.

As usual, the information feeds on the Wishcraft line are... less than entirely organized. The clutter cuts out to make way for any genuinely important messages and announcements, but the more general moment-to-moment updates from various teams suffer from being made (in many cases) by teenage girls with a very casual idea of military discipline or professional report submission. Of course, the Foundation wasn't a military organization, so this is hardly unexpected, and it wasn't as if Makoto had any real issue making sense of it anyway.

"...Team Nine here! Morning sweep of our wards is all clean, we're still fresh. Anyone need a hand?"
"Nothing... serious yet? We've got some wraithsign in twenty-two, but nothing's popped yet. But Miki's got exams tomorrow and we could all use a quick tagout to grab some breakfast."
"Remember to be extra careful with your ping registries, everyone! It makes it a lot easier on us if we can try to figure out where any magica in the city are right now, the NMSF are wanting reports of anything..."
"We KNOW mom! You've only mentioned it..."
"New people are still tuning in, it's morning! Not everyone reads the newsfeeds!"

And on it goes. It's not entirely unpleasant background noise, even if its mildly frivolous. There's a somber note running through it all today. The mayor had kept fairly close ties to the foundation, and a lot of the older members knew the guy personally. Not to mention that one of the instructors (Li Nuan, the name registered with a face in his mind - a little cloying in her sweetness, but a legitimately skilled trainer with an impressive track record for her almost-two-decades of service) had apparently run off to the Old City after receiving news of the murder.

Her implant still shows her as unharmed, but it seems that hearing about the murder of a man she was about to meet for tea, not far from where she was waiting to meet him, had made this a less than relaxing morning. There's a general volunteer call out for any mashou available to try and go talk and bring her back into town before the security forces get any funny ideas about this. Sometimes even the most senior magical girls could use a little help on stressful days.

An opportunity, possibly. Of course, that would probably mean some level of drama. Might be more enjoyable to simply find a few wraithsign callouts and showboat a little, but... wraith-hunting could happen any day. This was uncommon. Uncommon had, at the very least, the potential to be interesting.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[City Hall, Mayor's Office]

Leon nods back and proceeds into the Town Hall, he's had Novak on a secondary feed all this time and that saves him some time in reviewing Arata's Miko, but there are other things for him to examine in the Mayor's office. Particularly the parts of the man's workstation that are not tied to the Kami systems.

Which means, yes, paper.

Nadica rubs the side of her head with her knuckles. "...okay, I'm going to ask you something really, really, hard since you're a proto-model and this probably goes way out of your programming, but seriously, did you notice anything out of the ordinary at all? You've got a brain, basically. Use it." She sighs, not counting on much from this.

Idly, she starts reading the notebooks and other bits of paper for a lead.

It's not terrible, at least. Leon recognizes some of these documents. Doesn't others. Lots of construction projects, lots of deals, but when aren't either of those true around here? Lots of police reports, especially on Old Mitakihara cases and suspected crime dens in surrounding towns. Technically, the NMSF's jurisdiction ended with the city's limits... but given how many problems could flow in from the few small towns remaining, with their weak enforcement and shoddy surveillance, that was a barrier the Security Force had long sought to overcome. Contract copies, a few social letters...

Well this is interesting. Handwriting. A small folder of letters in a variety of hands. Judging by a quick scan of the paper, quite old, most of them, about two dozen all told, no more than a couple more than a single page long. Correspondence with old fellow soldiers, it looks like. A couple magical girls. A few humans. Presumably not the totality of these communications, but they seem to mark important milestones. One dead, another married. A third dead. A fourth with kids now - the second too, and she actually included a picture with this one. Baby boy and a girl in a simple dress with soft brown corkscrews of hair. The oldest ones are most plentiful, with the letters dwindling off over the years. There's a seven year gap between the second to last and the last. The last itself is short, and in a different hand, unsigned.

Spoiler: Last Letter

Show

"You are a good person, from everything I've heard. Everyone I've talked to. But someone has to draw a line, somewhere. I may not be one of Zeal's 'scientists', but I know magic has a price. You can't build a city out of wishes and expect it not to someday crumble into despair. Nobody's that naive."

"Grandfather respected you a lot, so I'm going to try to change your mind. But you're not the Goddess, and you don't need to make a contract with an incubator to sell your humanity. Leave magic to the magical girls, and maybe you can actually help this city."

Unsigned. The handwriting is less than clean, with the tell-tale marks of being written with the help of a tutorial to get the characters legible. Actually manually drawing the characters was becoming a lost art though, they hadn't seriously taught handwriting in schools for thirty years. The letter itself seems to be substantially younger than that - a chemical sampling and quick database scan yields seven years as a rough age result. No fingerprints other than the Mayor's own, though. Not quite that incompetent. And... yep. Never processed by the Neo-Mitakihara Postal Service.

The Mayor's Miko, meanwhile, goes into yet another unusually long pause before her reply, processing the rather vague demand for almost two full minutes - almost unheard of outside of kami queries.

"I cannot qualify this as a definitively unusual event. However, upon acquiring me six years ago, Mr. Sato registered 'Hoshi' as my unit-specific address title, allowing it to be used functionally in place of the Miko-OS default address title 'Miko'. Over the past six weeks, Mr. Sato has exhibited a marked shift towards using the default 'Miko' address, as well as spending less time with my device active. During his waking hours, he has exhibited increased stress levels, by my best estimation. With many of his vitals operated artificially, however, I lack medical grounds to make these claims, as they have remained stable and consistent. I warn that this data is almost entirely groundless. It is merely a... hunch?"

[Kuroimaken]

[Neo-Mitakihara]
((Going Somewhere))

Makoto cringed as he paid attention to the channel. He'd have to write himself an app to sort the drivel from the useful information before long. Was that one mashou using the network to talk to another about how her freakin' date went?! Unbelievable. How the Foundation managed to keep so many of these bimbos alive, he had no idea.

Little surprise he had no respect for people he had never met and perceived as less intelligent than himself.

And it all led back to the Mayor's death. Makoto guessed this was going to be the go-to topic of conversation for the next few days, along with the conspiracy theories for it, the latest celebrity scandals and the office scrambling like chickens with their heads cut off to tend to the decisions he would have been responsible for.

And then there was this Li Nuam business. What was she doing in old town anyways? Her behavior was a little unusual, as far as Makoto was concerned. Between the NMSF and the mashou, the crime scene would have been buzzing with activity by now, so why wasn't she headed there? Drama was kind of a turn-off, but unusual in this sense had potential.

Switching the engine of his bike back on, Makoto headed to old town...

[strawberryman]

[Ward 1]
(Mayor's Office)

Nadica blows smoke quizzically. Finally, something. But only a corner piece to the puzzle. Maybe a corner and border piece.

So, old man, whose bad side did you get on?

She gives a wave to Gomes. "All yours, gray matter." She gives the slightest of nods to the Miko. "And start compiling your info, Hoshi, you're gonna need it up front if you don't want techies probing in your brain." With that, she spins off back to the elevator.

[Sucrose]

[Ward 5]
Monument Point-Crime Scene

Satou keeps walking.

"We're going to pray. The city's going to need it. If you haven't been to the shrine before, follow my lead."
__________________________________________________ ____
[Half an Hour Later]

Yachihoko Shrine. One of the older ones in Neo-Mitakihara; used to be in the country, a short trip from the old city. Now, the place is completely surrounded by skyscrapers. Somehow, it manages to hold on to its mystique. It's built to a war god, who became part of the god of business. Just an inside joke of theirs. I step into the temple grounds, slipping off my boots. Socks are pointless for me, but my feet are cleaned every night. We've agreed that it's enough.

I walk over to the purification fountain. Make sure that a miko's watching. It's a new one, this time. Young Chinese girl; uncommon, but the shrine takes the help it gets. She locks eyes with me for just a second, eyes as wide as a doe's, then turns back to sweeping, heading back up the hall. Should do. Now. Wash my hands. Wash my mouth. Repeat. They say they doubled it to account for my line of work. More likely, they want some extra time to straighten things up.

Now, the offering hall. I toss in my four coins, one after the other. Bow twice, clap twice, bow twice again, and pray for the same thing I pray for every time that I come here. Not any more likely to be answered today.

The blessing I was counting on comes through, though, as I feel the eyes of the miko burning into my head. I look back to her, and she pulls back just a bit faster than she probably tried to. I step away from the offering box, and she speaks quietly.

"...Mr. Watanabe, the omamori you requested has been safely sealed. The high priest has asked us to let you know to come visit him. He is meditating in his home, but would be happy to see you."

"Thank you. I'll do that. I know the way."

At that, the miko nods, and steps away. There's usually a bit more call and response. Maybe they haven't taught her the whole ritual. Maybe they're anxious about this too. That'd make sense. They know this'll be a tsunami. Could flood their burrows as easy as anything else.

I walk back outside the main building. Next stop's a small, nearby house on the grounds. Just a couple of stories, while everything around it stretches to the sky. Not too fancy, but well-made. Thick walls. The building alone could tell you what you need to know about its owner, when you think about it.

I step up to the door, and give it a solid knock.

[Draken]

[Ward 1]
(Mayor's Office)

Leon turns his head to Nadica as she leaves, a meaningless gesture of acknowledgement, really, the thing serves more as a lantern (some would say headlight) than anything. But he needs to keep the habit for the sake of social etiquette.

He then addresses Hoshi.

"Hoshi, was it, sorry to say, you will be receiving a lot of overriding commands today. Miko Designation #113694, input security order 11F, you are now under authority of the NMSF. Prepare for full collection of all your physical units and transfer to headquarters."

"I will take this one with me."

The captain moves over to Arata's desk and disconnects the laptop, promptly storing it in the back of his own robotic unit and connecting to it directly.

"We will be traveling together for awhile. So, if you could, compile a list of Satoru's close acquaintances, friends and rivals that fit the following profile: anyone with grandchildren, anyone with young protégées, or young-looking ones in the case of mashou. Note if they, as well as the protégée are alive or dead, last known address, last contact, compare calligraphy and give me their political stances compared to Arata's on subjects of public safety, magic and just about anything else of relevance."

"I am giving you access to the written records I have looked at for this little project. Try and impress me, I have never quite felt like acquiring one of your kind."

Which hasn't stopped some media elements from spinning the most ludicrous stories about him and Mikos. Well, some media elements can lose the benefits of the usually loose treatment afforded to their excesses in disclosing unsavory opinions.

"Officers, organize, tag and pack everything in this room and take it to central."

Silently, a similar order is issued for NMSF patrols to round up the documents in Arata's house, private office and pretty much anywhere else the man kept any kind of record. And with that, Leon takes his stroll back to his helicraft.

"Patrol craft #00 returning to base."

And off he goes.

[KnightDisciple]

[Ward 5]
[Crime Scene]

Dunny gave a noncomittal grunt at the turn of topic.

"Been doin' that since I got the news..."

His muttering is pretty clearly a somewhat exhausted cop thinking out loud, rather than a younger cop sassing a more experienced partner.

[Later, at Shrine]

Dunny politely smiles and gives a slight bow of greeting as he enters the building and takes off his boots, switching to some provided sandals (making a rather interesting visual, considering he's still wearing that kilt of his). He washes up, going through the same number of repetitions on his hands and mouth as Satou, but stopping at that point, opting out of the actual prayers, and moving over to one side, giving both the miko and Satou some space as he casually eyes the facility, his own thoughts ranging both near and far...

When he sees Satou begin walking out of the shrine, he moves to follow, unless someone blocks him.

[Dorizzit]

[Ward 5]
Crime Scene

Leysa snorts in amusement at Duncan's comment, but follows the NMSF officers without comment.

Later, at Shrine

Leysa doesn't bother with the temple's sandals, instead opting to just use her socks. She goes through the motions with more confidence than Duncan but less than Satou; she's clearly familiar with the process, but probably doesn't visit temples like this one with any regularity. After paying her respects, she falls in next to Duncan while they wait for Satou to finish his business.

[Selinia]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 6]
[The Seawall > Old City Roads]

Spoiler

Show

Makoto cringed as he paid attention to the channel. He'd have to write himself an app to sort the drivel from the useful information before long. Was that one mashou using the network to talk to another about how her freakin' date went?! Unbelievable. How the Foundation managed to keep so many of these bimbos alive, he had no idea.

Little surprise he had no respect for people he had never met and perceived as less intelligent than himself.

And it all led back to the Mayor's death. Makoto guessed this was going to be the go-to topic of conversation for the next few days, along with the conspiracy theories for it, the latest celebrity scandals and the office scrambling like chickens with their heads cut off to tend to the decisions he would have been responsible for.

And then there was this Li Nuam business. What was she doing in old town anyways? Her behavior was a little unusual, as far as Makoto was concerned. Between the NMSF and the mashou, the crime scene would have been buzzing with activity by now, so why wasn't she headed there? Drama was kind of a turn-off, but unusual in this sense had potential.

Switching the engine of his bike back on, Makoto headed to old town...

The old city stretched below.

Strictly speaking, there were parts of it above water. Makoto could reach one of them, even, with a well-timed jump, a good straightaway to build up speed, and the sort of reckless disregard for himself and his vehicle that can only come from the first being easily healed and the second even more trivially replaced. Or a simple jump with a magic boost, but where's the fun in that? A crumbling highway remnant, one of the handful of above-water elements anywhere remotely close to the seawall, which connected to enough other ruins to get into the metallic jungle of Old Mitakihara without getting wet. The question was... how to go about this little hunt.

A quick ping of the soulgem would be the most obvious solution, of course - any mashou, wraiths, or incubators in the area would register with him in a heartbeat. Some people complained that such pings were imprecise at the best of times, and to an extent they were right, but they hadn't spent time measuring its patterns or flexing the mental muscles to analyze them. It wasn't exact, but it was close enough to be practical. One of the many perks of being insufferably intelligent. No, the drawback to that wasn't precision, it was that it would make him as obvious to any of those entities as they would be to him. Sure, it wasn't like he could think of anyone in the old town with a specific vendetta against him, but that didn't mean that announcing his presence with a megaphone was necessarily without risk.

Of course, the alternatives weren't spotless either. Find some squatters and interrogate them. Sniff out one of the settlements crammed into the ruins like grime in the creases of Mitakihara's boots. When the law came here, it was more often than not as a hammer - far less worry about whether any given transgression might incur someone's wrath. Rogue mashou were not entirely unheard of, but a Wishcraft one would probably attract some attention to herself unless hiding deliberately.

And of course, there was the simplest options - the most tedious, but perhaps the safest. Do some math to figure the most likely routes through the city from common entrance points, and then run rooftops searching for his quarry by hand. There were few enough real ways to get around that it wasn't implausible, just... dull.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 8]
[Yachihoko Shrine, Kannushi's Dwelling]

Spoiler

Show

[Ward 5]
Monument Point-Crime Scene

Satou keeps walking.

"We're going to pray. The city's going to need it. If you haven't been to the shrine before, follow my lead."
__________________________________________________ ____
[Half an Hour Later]

Yachihoko Shrine. One of the older ones in Neo-Mitakihara; used to be in the country, a short trip from the old city. Now, the place is completely surrounded by skyscrapers. Somehow, it manages to hold on to its mystique. It's built to a war god, who became part of the god of business. Just an inside joke of theirs. I step into the temple grounds, slipping off my boots. Socks are pointless for me, but my feet are cleaned every night. We've agreed that it's enough.

I walk over to the purification fountain. Make sure that a miko's watching. It's a new one, this time. Young Chinese girl; uncommon, but the shrine takes the help it gets. She locks eyes with me for just a second, eyes as wide as a doe's, then turns back to sweeping, heading back up the hall. Should do. Now. Wash my hands. Wash my mouth. Repeat. They say they doubled it to account for my line of work. More likely, they want some extra time to straighten things up.

Now, the offering hall. I toss in my four coins, one after the other. Bow twice, clap twice, bow twice again, and pray for the same thing I pray for every time that I come here. Not any more likely to be answered today.

The blessing I was counting on comes through, though, as I feel the eyes of the miko burning into my head. I look back to her, and she pulls back just a bit faster than she probably tried to. I step away from the offering box, and she speaks quietly.

"...Mr. Watanabe, the omamori you requested has been safely sealed. The high priest has asked us to let you know to come visit him. He is meditating in his home, but would be happy to see you."

"Thank you. I'll do that. I know the way."

At that, the miko nods, and steps away. There's usually a bit more call and response. Maybe they haven't taught her the whole ritual. Maybe they're anxious about this too. That'd make sense. They know this'll be a tsunami. Could flood their burrows as easy as anything else.

I walk back outside the main building. Next stop's a small, nearby house on the grounds. Just a couple of stories, while everything around it stretches to the sky. Not too fancy, but well-made. Thick walls. The building alone could tell you what you need to know about its owner, when you think about it.

I step up to the door, and give it a solid knock.

Spoiler

Show

[Ward 5]
[Crime Scene]

Dunny gave a noncomittal grunt at the turn of topic.

"Been doin' that since I got the news..."

His muttering is pretty clearly a somewhat exhausted cop thinking out loud, rather than a younger cop sassing a more experienced partner.

[Later, at Shrine]

Dunny politely smiles and gives a slight bow of greeting as he enters the building and takes off his boots, switching to some provided sandals (making a rather interesting visual, considering he's still wearing that kilt of his). He washes up, going through the same number of repetitions on his hands and mouth as Satou, but stopping at that point, opting out of the actual prayers, and moving over to one side, giving both the miko and Satou some space as he casually eyes the facility, his own thoughts ranging both near and far...

When he sees Satou begin walking out of the shrine, he moves to follow, unless someone blocks him.

Spoiler

Show

[Ward 5]
Crime Scene

Leysa snorts in amusement at Duncan's comment, but follows the NMSF officers without comment.

Later, at Shrine

Leysa doesn't bother with the temple's sandals, instead opting to just use her socks. She goes through the motions with more confidence than Duncan but less than Satou; she's clearly familiar with the process, but probably doesn't visit temples like this one with any regularity. After paying her respects, she falls in next to Duncan while they wait for Satou to finish his business.

The door slides open, an aged, smiling man standing behind it. For all that he was not entirely clad in the formal robes of a Kannushi, the high priest of the shrine was recognizable by bearing alone - at least, for those with a veteran eye for such things. Sixties, perhaps, maybe closing on seventy - healthy for someone with almost no augmentations. He even has all his hair, though its hue is a snowy white.

"Ahhhh... it has been a while, Watanabe. You know, were they feeling petty, I would imagine the Kami might feel that you only turn to them for guidance when their metal namesakes fail." A low chuckle. "...but you offer the rites, and you bring fellows who do the same! I feel we can find common ground, even on this... hmm. Dark day. To those Come inside, friend. Crude talk of business should be done away from the eyes of Heaven."

He nods to the shrine, but it's clear what he truly refers to. As a residence on a religious complex, his home was as close as anything in Neo-Mitakihara was from being safe from the city's electronic eyes. It's a fairly humble abode, not nearly as old as the shrine itself - originally, it has been further away, when Yachihoko's grounds were considerably larger. A few paintings on the walls, a few treasures preserved on stands or in cases, with little else for decoration. The visitors might note that these are heirlooms that likely come from a family, rather than the shrine itself. Things of a certain age tended to pile up in places like this. Regardless, a tea room awaits, along with a fairly simple ceremony performed by one of the mikos before she, too, leaves.

"...it is not hard to guess why you three have come here. Mr. Sato's death will be felt by us all. We had our disagreements at times, but the man had a certain respect for traditions that I fear his successor will lack. If there is anything we at Yachihoko can do to aid the Security Forces in their investigations, I urge you - any of you - to ask. In our position, we are quite close to some parts of the community."

Some parts indeed. It was not the best kept of secrets that many old shrines and temples had ties to the Yakuza, often shielding them, or even providing tools to undertake their criminal activities. But with a bit of respect, that could be turned to an advantage.

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[In Transit]

Spoiler

Show

Leon turns his head to Nadica as she leaves, a meaningless gesture of acknowledgement, really, the thing serves more as a lantern (some would say headlight) than anything. But he needs to keep the habit for the sake of social etiquette.

He then addresses Hoshi.

"Hoshi, was it, sorry to say, you will be receiving a lot of overriding commands today. Miko Designation #113694, input security order 11F, you are now under authority of the NMSF. Prepare for full collection of all your physical units and transfer to headquarters."

"I will take this one with me."

The captain moves over to Arata's desk and disconnects the laptop, promptly storing it in the back of his own robotic unit and connecting to it directly.

"We will be traveling together for awhile. So, if you could, compile a list of Satoru's close acquaintances, friends and rivals that fit the following profile: anyone with grandchildren, anyone with young protégées, or young-looking ones in the case of mashou. Note if they, as well as the protégée are alive or dead, last known address, last contact, compare calligraphy and give me their political stances compared to Arata's on subjects of public safety, magic and just about anything else of relevance."

"I am giving you access to the written records I have looked at for this little project. Try and impress me, I have never quite felt like acquiring one of your kind."

Which hasn't stopped some media elements from spinning the most ludicrous stories about him and Mikos. Well, some media elements can lose the benefits of the usually loose treatment afforded to their excesses in disclosing unsavory opinions.

"Officers, organize, tag and pack everything in this room and take it to central."

Silently, a similar order is issued for NMSF patrols to round up the documents in Arata's house, private office and pretty much anywhere else the man kept any kind of record. And with that, Leon takes his stroll back to his helicraft.

"Patrol craft #00 returning to base."

And off he goes.

The direct link allows for communication at speeds that far exceed verbal communication. Really, talking would likely be obsolete by now were people not so dreadfully attached to doing it. And this request is something that Hoshi takes to substantially more quickly than the last. Such organizational tasks are the strongest point of the Miko-OS, and the relevant information was called, sorted, and presented as fast as Leon is willing to process it. Which is to say, it's likely done entirely by the time the transport touches down on one of the NMSF headquarters landing pads.

An interesting lot, certainly. Captain Gomes could do what the Miko couldn't, putting an investigator's glowing, ominous eye over the variety of files. Most could be tossed out of course, they didn't have any of the flags the captain was looking for. But from the field narrowed by Hoshi, a handful emerged as noteworthy. Of those, an inquisitive gaze narrows on one lineage in particular.

Makimoto Naoki. Fellow soldier, fellow survivor of the ruination of Old Mitakihara. Younger than the mayor by about a decade and a half, but a good friend for many years. No strongly help political views, but a lot of patriotism. Opposed economic reforms made possible by Zeal Drives at first, but softened that stance in old age. Unlike Arata, Naoki found himself a family along the line. Wife Mori Michi, Makimoto Michi after their union. Medical engineer, working in hospitals taking care of the automatons. Held down a job at Zeal for a little while, looks like, but left. No taste for working with magic. Had a son in '53, daughter in '59. Ryou and Mao, respectively. Cute kids. Not so great as parents though, seems like.

Doesn't look like much of that military discipline got handed down up front though, had to be pounded in. Ryou wound up with a criminal record at the tender age of 15, courtesy of a metal pipe applied vigorously to a public Zeal engine. Anti-establishment sentiments, as if anyone doesn't have them at that age. Admittedly, most don't destroy expensive pieces of infrastructure to 'stick it to the man', or however the saying goes now. Military school fixed that right up, apparently enough to send him to work as a low-level officer upon graduation, steadily climbing the ranks. Apparently has some fancy badges now, who'd have thought. No kids, still in service, lives in Tokyo.

Mao didn't need a crime to take her from home, just bounced as soon as she was a legal adult. Not entirely on her own initiative mind. Suzuki Kotone - girl around the same age, very close friend apparently - made a contract, dragged Mao with her off to Neo-Mitakihara, where she found some purpose volunteering for Wishcraft. Found religion too, by the looks of it. Well, if you can call the Goddess Cult that. Modern form of volcano worship, when you get down to it, just giving a name and a face to something nobody can explain.

Well that's interesting, friend had a kid - you don't see that much with mashou, their puppet bodies aren't built to reproduce, and wraith hunting doesn't offer maternity leave. But a baby girl at fifteen, and a contract made on the kid's behalf. Exact wording doesn't seem to be registered anywhere, little frustrating. Unfortunately, Kotone didn't get long to see her wish come true, dead in a fairly routine wraith-hunt in '77. Just bad luck, it happens. No relationship for Mao at this point, but with a stable job and solid income, she managed to persuade authorities to let her formally adopt the girl. Little infant Suzuki Yoshi became Makimoto Yoshi.

Mao raised her adopted child as a single parent, but the whole mess pushed her to reconcile with her own parents, who made themselves a substantial part of their only grandchild's life. As did the Wishcraft foundation, for that matter - with her mother working for them (as an administrator, organizing and coordinating efforts with magica groups), little Yoshi was practically surrounded by magical girls for her adolescence, a presence redoubled by the general sense of sisterhood between mashou. Yoshi was one of theirs, never mind being totally human, and Mao never wanted for babysitters or other help to mitigate the burdens of single motherhood.

Yoshi, meanwhile, was a girl with a mission. In a family so dedicated to various forms of service, it maybe wasn't surprising that she had her mashou wish written down and pinned up above her bed by her first year of middle school. No incubator seemed terribly interested in taking her up on it, but she had a solid backup plan for military service if the magical girl career path didn't open up for her. Clever, athletic, driven in school, she probably would have been good for it. NMSF scouting didn't begin that early, but if it did, well, she'd have been right at the top of their lists.

Of course, nothing good comes of "Would have beens". Year 2089, little thirteen-year-old Yoshi is in Tokyo visiting the uncle she adores. Maybe a tour of a military base wouldn't have been a conventional activity for a preteen girl on vacation, but by all accounts she was quite enamored by Ryou's workplace. All would have been well, barring, of all things, a freak tram malfunction on the city's ubran transit network on the way home. Cyberterrorism was suspected, but never proven or claimed, which would make it a rather piss-poor attempt at terrorism of any sort.

Yoshi's life ended quite abruptly, with a metal girder through her torso, crushing vital organs with the cheerful disregard for life held by any large, fast-moving object. It all crumbled then. Ryou cut ties with the family entirely - cut all non-work-related ties, really, with his perseverance in that position likely playing a role in some of his more recent promotions. Mao took the opposite path, withdrawing from her position at Wishcraft for three full years of no substantial activity to speak of. When she returned, it was in a part-time capacity. Fighting illnesses for some time, the aging Naoki and Michi opted to forgo the extensive cyberization operations that could have saved them, passing on 'with dignity'.

So of course, the million-allocation question. Why does the writing on Makimoto Yoshi's record almost precisely match the linguistic styles, handwriting, and emphasis of a letter dated to being written six months after her death? Even if it was hers, where would such a specific stance rise from? In the meantime, there's always that little bit of basking in being able to tear through the trials and tragedies of any given family in a handful of minutes at the drop of a hat. It's a bit of a power trip.

[Draken]

Spoiler

Show

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 1]
[In Transit]

The direct link allows for communication at speeds that far exceed verbal communication. Really, talking would likely be obsolete by now were people not so dreadfully attached to doing it. And this request is something that Hoshi takes to substantially more quickly than the last. Such organizational tasks are the strongest point of the Miko-OS, and the relevant information was called, sorted, and presented as fast as Leon is willing to process it. Which is to say, it's likely done entirely by the time the transport touches down on one of the NMSF headquarters landing pads.

An interesting lot, certainly. Captain Gomes could do what the Miko couldn't, putting an investigator's glowing, ominous eye over the variety of files. Most could be tossed out of course, they didn't have any of the flags the captain was looking for. But from the field narrowed by Hoshi, a handful emerged as noteworthy. Of those, an inquisitive gaze narrows on one lineage in particular.

Makimoto Naoki. Fellow soldier, fellow survivor of the ruination of Old Mitakihara. Younger than the mayor by about a decade and a half, but a good friend for many years. No strongly help political views, but a lot of patriotism. Opposed economic reforms made possible by Zeal Drives at first, but softened that stance in old age. Unlike Arata, Naoki found himself a family along the line. Wife Mori Michi, Makimoto Michi after their union. Medical engineer, working in hospitals taking care of the automatons. Held down a job at Zeal for a little while, looks like, but left. No taste for working with magic. Had a son in '53, daughter in '59. Ryou and Mao, respectively. Cute kids. Not so great as parents though, seems like.

Doesn't look like much of that military discipline got handed down up front though, had to be pounded in. Ryou wound up with a criminal record at the tender age of 15, courtesy of a metal pipe applied vigorously to a public Zeal engine. Anti-establishment sentiments, as if anyone doesn't have them at that age. Admittedly, most don't destroy expensive pieces of infrastructure to 'stick it to the man', or however the saying goes now. Military school fixed that right up, apparently enough to send him to work as a low-level officer upon graduation, steadily climbing the ranks. Apparently has some fancy badges now, who'd have thought. No kids, still in service, lives in Tokyo.

Mao didn't need a crime to take her from home, just bounced as soon as she was a legal adult. Not entirely on her own initiative mind. Suzuki Kotone - girl around the same age, very close friend apparently - made a contract, dragged Mao with her off to Neo-Mitakihara, where she found some purpose volunteering for Wishcraft. Found religion too, by the looks of it. Well, if you can call the Goddess Cult that. Modern form of volcano worship, when you get down to it, just giving a name and a face to something nobody can explain.

Well that's interesting, friend had a kid - you don't see that much with mashou, their puppet bodies aren't built to reproduce, and wraith hunting doesn't offer maternity leave. But a baby girl at fifteen, and a contract made on the kid's behalf. Exact wording doesn't seem to be registered anywhere, little frustrating. Unfortunately, Kotone didn't get long to see her wish come true, dead in a fairly routine wraith-hunt in '77. Just bad luck, it happens. No relationship for Mao at this point, but with a stable job and solid income, she managed to persuade authorities to let her formally adopt the girl. Little infant Suzuki Yoshi became Makimoto Yoshi.

Mao raised her adopted child as a single parent, but the whole mess pushed her to reconcile with her own parents, who made themselves a substantial part of their only grandchild's life. As did the Wishcraft foundation, for that matter - with her mother working for them (as an administrator, organizing and coordinating efforts with magica groups), little Yoshi was practically surrounded by magical girls for her adolescence, a presence redoubled by the general sense of sisterhood between mashou. Yoshi was one of theirs, never mind being totally human, and Mao never wanted for babysitters or other help to mitigate the burdens of single motherhood.

Yoshi, meanwhile, was a girl with a mission. In a family so dedicated to various forms of service, it maybe wasn't surprising that she had her mashou wish written down and pinned up above her bed by her first year of middle school. No incubator seemed terribly interested in taking her up on it, but she had a solid backup plan for military service if the magical girl career path didn't open up for her. Clever, athletic, driven in school, she probably would have been good for it. NMSF scouting didn't begin that early, but if it did, well, she'd have been right at the top of their lists.

Of course, nothing good comes of "Would have beens". Year 2089, little thirteen-year-old Yoshi is in Tokyo visiting the uncle she adores. Maybe a tour of a military base wouldn't have been a conventional activity for a preteen girl on vacation, but by all accounts she was quite enamored by Ryou's workplace. All would have been well, barring, of all things, a freak tram malfunction on the city's ubran transit network on the way home. Cyberterrorism was suspected, but never proven or claimed, which would make it a rather piss-poor attempt at terrorism of any sort.

Yoshi's life ended quite abruptly, with a metal girder through her torso, crushing vital organs with the cheerful disregard for life held by any large, fast-moving object. It all crumbled then. Ryou cut ties with the family entirely - cut all non-work-related ties, really, with his perseverance in that position likely playing a role in some of his more recent promotions. Mao took the opposite path, withdrawing from her position at Wishcraft for three full years of no substantial activity to speak of. When she returned, it was in a part-time capacity. Fighting illnesses for some time, the aging Naoki and Michi opted to forgo the extensive cyberization operations that could have saved them, passing on 'with dignity'.

So of course, the million-allocation question. Why does the writing on Makimoto Yoshi's record almost precisely match the linguistic styles, handwriting, and emphasis of a letter dated to being written six months after her death? Even if it was hers, where would such a specific stance rise from? In the meantime, there's always that little bit of basking in being able to tear through the trials and tragedies of any given family in a handful of minutes at the drop of a hat. It's a bit of a power trip.

Everyone has a sob story, Leon has yet to find one that makes him miss his tear ducts. But regardless, why does a dead person's handwriting show up months after her death and sponsoring such an odd political stance on a fifteen year old? Why it almost sounds like magic.

Wait.

While en route to his office, Leon makes a call to his detectives. Well, to Turnbull. He can tell from the gps of their patrol vehicle where they are, and knows what Satou is doing. And Leysa is with them, according to the officers and cameras on the crime scene. That saves some work.

*Bzzt* "Duncan, I've got a lead on the murder, and possibly on a rogue mashou. Get Watanabe and your guest on the line."

[Kuroimaken]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 6]
[The Seawall > Old City Roads]

The old city stretched below.

Strictly speaking, there were parts of it above water. Makoto could reach one of them, even, with a well-timed jump, a good straightaway to build up speed, and the sort of reckless disregard for himself and his vehicle that can only come from the first being easily healed and the second even more trivially replaced. Or a simple jump with a magic boost, but where's the fun in that? A crumbling highway remnant, one of the handful of above-water elements anywhere remotely close to the seawall, which connected to enough other ruins to get into the metallic jungle of Old Mitakihara without getting wet. The question was... how to go about this little hunt.

A quick ping of the soulgem would be the most obvious solution, of course - any mashou, wraiths, or incubators in the area would register with him in a heartbeat. Some people complained that such pings were imprecise at the best of times, and to an extent they were right, but they hadn't spent time measuring its patterns or flexing the mental muscles to analyze them. It wasn't exact, but it was close enough to be practical. One of the many perks of being insufferably intelligent. No, the drawback to that wasn't precision, it was that it would make him as obvious to any of those entities as they would be to him. Sure, it wasn't like he could think of anyone in the old town with a specific vendetta against him, but that didn't mean that announcing his presence with a megaphone was necessarily without risk.

Of course, the alternatives weren't spotless either. Find some squatters and interrogate them. Sniff out one of the settlements crammed into the ruins like grime in the creases of Mitakihara's boots. When the law came here, it was more often than not as a hammer - far less worry about whether any given transgression might incur someone's wrath. Rogue mashou were not entirely unheard of, but a Wishcraft one would probably attract some attention to herself unless hiding deliberately.

And of course, there was the simplest options - the most tedious, but perhaps the safest. Do some math to figure the most likely routes through the city from common entrance points, and then run rooftops searching for his quarry by hand. There were few enough real ways to get around that it wasn't implausible, just... dull.

Makoto disregarded the idea of pinging the soulgem almost immediately. He assumed that Li didn't want to be found - if she did, someone would have reported already. She had a headstart as well. If there were any wraiths around, they'd come to him, and potentially slow him down just enough that he'd lose her trail for good. If he got too conspicuous in his search, that could make her run as well.

Interrogating people was similarly out of the question from a time perspective. Nevermind that it wasn't unusual for many of those still living in the metal entrails of this city-corpse to get high or just be plain crazy, interrogating them could get real ugly real fast. He might need their cooperation in latter missions, unlikely as that sounded.

There was an alternative that met the best of the three worlds in his book. First, he would map the most likely routes. Then, he would pick one, and look for anyone living in the rubble. Reading their minds as he dashed around would generate a much smaller, shorter signal - he could still be detected, but not as far out or in as lasting a fashion. And it would confirm whether he picked the right route. This relied a bit on finding people, or for Li to have been spotted by them if there were... but it was a better alternative to running blind and combing the place all night.

Besides, he could get around more or less fine without using much magical energy. He was running a lot more silent than he assumed she was, in this case.

[Sucrose]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 8]
[Yachihoko Shrine, Kannushi's Dwelling]

Satou's lip curls upward very faintly at the Kannushi's sense of humor, at the door. As he strides in, he's careful to place his feet upon certain points in the floor-points where someone with a little bit of engineering skill might notice the floorboards are probably strongest.

During the tea ceremony, he sits in seiza, watching the Kannushi with a look of utter calm on his face. At last, he takes a few quiet sips as the old family man explains to him and his compatriots what he already knows. Then he sets down his teacup.

"Well, certain elements of the community are occasionally inclined to express their feelings very clearly. If they are angry, they may express themselves in very pointed ways."

The detective remains seated, his posture perfect, and his eyes never leaving the Kannushi's face as he takes another sip.

"Have you recently heard any mention of such unfiltered people? Perhaps ones looking for help in fully expressing their unhappiness?"

[Selinia]

[Old Mitakihara]
[The Shattered City]

Makoto disregarded the idea of pinging the soulgem almost immediately. He assumed that Li didn't want to be found - if she did, someone would have reported already. She had a headstart as well. If there were any wraiths around, they'd come to him, and potentially slow him down just enough that he'd lose her trail for good. If he got too conspicuous in his search, that could make her run as well.

Interrogating people was similarly out of the question from a time perspective. Nevermind that it wasn't unusual for many of those still living in the metal entrails of this city-corpse to get high or just be plain crazy, interrogating them could get real ugly real fast. He might need their cooperation in latter missions, unlikely as that sounded.

There was an alternative that met the best of the three worlds in his book. First, he would map the most likely routes. Then, he would pick one, and look for anyone living in the rubble. Reading their minds as he dashed around would generate a much smaller, shorter signal - he could still be detected, but not as far out or in as lasting a fashion. And it would confirm whether he picked the right route. This relied a bit on finding people, or for Li to have been spotted by them if there were... but it was a better alternative to running blind and combing the place all night.

Besides, he could get around more or less fine without using much magical energy. He was running a lot more silent than he assumed she was, in this case.

Speed. Easy enough. Mind reading. Also easy enough, though... less pleasant. Reading the minds of the sort of individuals who drifted into the corpse city was like plunging one's bare hand down the bathtub's drain. At best you're groping at something damp and clogged, and there's a decent chance you'll brush up against something truly vile. A blessing, then, that Makoto's brain was plenty vile itself.

Another blessing, in that Nuan seemed to make something of an impression on those she passed. Mashou tended to do that. Mashou with powers as flashy as Li Nuan's, doubly so. Prisms and mirrors aplenty, and Makoto could honestly think of few people more suited to having their presence announced by killer rainbows. But enough musing. People were getting scarcer, and buildings sparser - this was what used to be the Garden District. Home to some of the city's most affluent families, as well as its infamous middle school. Now almost gothic in its profile against the skyline, jutting from the water with crumbling towers and broken glass facades. It was easy to see how this place inspired so many superstitions. It would be hard to design something to look more haunted if you tried.

In fact, he'd likely be inclined to peg it as his destination, with the mind-reading trail growing short. It was a recognizable landmark at least. But his attention is drawn rather jarringly to the ping of another magica - this one from a fairly substantial distance, but still within the Old City limits. Not on the trail he'd been following, but it was possible Nuan had veered off for some reason. Or, more likely, that this was some third party. And if he could pick this up, so could Nuan. And any wraiths in the vicinity.

Maybe whoever it was would get eaten before they could cause any trouble. The world is nice sometimes, right?

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 8]
[Yachihoko Shrine, Kannushi's Dwelling]

Satou's lip curls upward very faintly at the Kannushi's sense of humor, at the door. As he strides in, he's careful to place his feet upon certain points in the floor-points where someone with a little bit of engineering skill might notice the floorboards are probably strongest.

During the tea ceremony, he sits in seiza, watching the Kannushi with a look of utter calm on his face. At last, he takes a few quiet sips as the old family man explains to him and his compatriots what he already knows. Then he sets down his teacup.

"Well, certain elements of the community are occasionally inclined to express their feelings very clearly. If they are angry, they may express themselves in very pointed ways."

The detective remains seated, his posture perfect, and his eyes never leaving the Kannushi's face as he takes another sip.

"Have you recently heard any mention of such unfiltered people? Perhaps ones looking for help in fully expressing their unhappiness?"

"Hrmmmm... well. There are always those who feel they must find a way to raise their voices, if none in power will listen to them speak. It is regrettable that some of them turn to unsavory means, but understandable. I do know of some who help these souls to raise their voices, perhaps a little louder than some might like." He shakes his head, looking genuinely tired.

"But something like what was done today, ah... it crosses a line. Perhaps you are the only ones who can help the lost soul now. I may be able to help, but I need to know more. I know little of this crime and its specifics - only the scope of its tragedy. If you could perhaps enlighten me as to how your suspect expressed their discontent, I could offer some insight into who you may be seeking."

[Sucrose]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 8]
[Yachihoko Shrine, Kannushi's Dwelling]

Satou sighs.

"Of course. A man who serves such a great portion of the community may have heard a great many things. I will narrow it down."

His tone becomes unsettlingly detached and clinical. Perhaps a slight metallic rasp to it.

"The lost soul expressed discontent by means of a gyro gun, capable of maintaining subsonic speeds, but covering multiple miles, and annihilating the front of a human skull. Likely capable of at least one turn in excess of ninety degrees."

Even still, his eyes do not leave the Kannushi's face. How long has it been since he blinked?

"Did any within the community express a desire for such a way to express their frustration, at being unheard?"

[Kuroimaken]

[Old Mitakihara]

What actually got his attention was the direction it came from. There weren't that many routes through which one could enter the Old City. The ping had a maximum distance, as well - he wasn't entirely sure if one trying it from the city limits would be able to reach as far as the center. This could be just about any mashou actively hunting wraiths from inside the city itself.

He highly doubted it was a call for help. Just in case, he absently tuned to the Wishcraft Foundation's channel once more - whatever information he could derive from this would be welcome. Though he wasn't about to get his hopes up.

If this was Nuan, then she'd figured out he was tracking her, and probably wanted to make sure. But he didn't sense any magic on his way here. He doubted she had surveillance set up somehow. And judging from the distance, he doubted she had sensed his mind-reading from this far away. Everything pointed to a third party, but...

That's when he came up with a distinct possibility. What if Nuan had come here to meet another mashou, away from the prying eyes of Neo-Mitakihara's public surveillance system? That chimed with his original theory, that she wasn't here just to blow off some steam over the death of someone she knew. That was what actual grieving was for.

Huh. Funny. He didn't remember having tears to shed even before he turned into a mashou.

He decided to speed up a bit after the likely third party, even if he had to run less silent to do it.

[KnightDisciple]

Everyone has a sob story, Leon has yet to find one that makes him miss his tear ducts. But regardless, why does a dead person's handwriting show up months after her death and sponsoring such an odd political stance on a fifteen year old? Why it almost sounds like magic.

Wait.

While en route to his office, Leon makes a call to his detectives. Well, to Turnbull. He can tell from the gps of their patrol vehicle where they are, and knows what Satou is doing. And Leysa is with them, according to the officers and cameras on the crime scene. That saves some work.

*Bzzt* "Duncan, I've got a lead on the murder, and possibly on a rogue mashou. Get Watanabe and your guest on the line."

Duncan had given the priest a respectful bow when he met them, but kept himself silent and to one side during Satou's conversation. It was fascinating, but Duncan always felt out of place in shrines like this, not that he came to them that often.

And then his phone rang, and he quietly moved away a bit to allow Satou the space to continue his conversation. He blinked at the Chief calling him now. And at the rather abrupt nature of the call. He moved to the hall outside the tea room and speaks quietly, trying not to disturb the delicate dance of words going on.

"Ah, that's just grand, Chief, but is there any chance we could have a few minutes afore makin' it a conference call? Tha Old Man is doin' a wee bit o' delicate work right this moment. Might be better to let him wrap that up before just goin' in phone a' blazin'. Sir."

That last honorific is clearly a barely-remembered tagged-on bit.

[Selinia]

[Neo-Mitakihara, Ward 8]
[Yachihoko Shrine, Kannushi's Dwelling]

Satou sighs.

"Of course. A man who serves such a great portion of the community may have heard a great many things. I will narrow it down."

His tone becomes unsettlingly detached and clinical. Perhaps a slight metallic rasp to it.

"The lost soul expressed discontent by means of a gyro gun, capable of maintaining subsonic speeds, but covering multiple miles, and annihilating the front of a human skull. Likely capable of at least one turn in excess of ninety degrees."

Even still, his eyes do not leave the Kannushi's face. How long has it been since he blinked?

"Did any within the community express a desire for such a way to express their frustration, at being unheard?"

"Ahhhh... I see..." The priest furrows his brow, taking another sip of tea. After a moment, he nods. "...yes. I know of one who expressed such a desire. You speak plainly, and so I shall requite your consideration for time and honesty. I have heard tell of such a bargain being struck. The weapons you speak of are rare even by the standards of those who deal in rarities. A testament to your force's prudence, I should imagine. Nevertheless, a cell in Kazamino City may have found such a thing in their hands."

"But avarice plays a chord heard by too many, I fear. Were a bargain to be offered, and payment made in grief cubes yet untarnished, few would resist the lure of such riches. Such a ransom buys a great deal of blind acceptance, as I am sure you can imagine. Sadly, I can offer you few other whisperings for now. But there are few who could hoard such a trove - only those who are dear friends of many magical girls, or dire enemies of just as many, could toss away such life-giving treasure so heedlessly in exchange for a tool of death. I pray that this helps you restore balance to our fair city, before the scales can be tipped yet further."

[Old Mitakihara]
[The Shattered City]

What actually got his attention was the direction it came from. There weren't that many routes through which one could enter the Old City. The ping had a maximum distance, as well - he wasn't entirely sure if one trying it from the city limits would be able to reach as far as the center. This could be just about any mashou actively hunting wraiths from inside the city itself.

He highly doubted it was a call for help. Just in case, he absently tuned to the Wishcraft Foundation's channel once more - whatever information he could derive from this would be welcome. Though he wasn't about to get his hopes up.

If this was Nuan, then she'd figured out he was tracking her, and probably wanted to make sure. But he didn't sense any magic on his way here. He doubted she had surveillance set up somehow. And judging from the distance, he doubted she had sensed his mind-reading from this far away. Everything pointed to a third party, but...

That's when he came up with a distinct possibility. What if Nuan had come here to meet another mashou, away from the prying eyes of Neo-Mitakihara's public surveillance system? That chimed with his original theory, that she wasn't here just to blow off some steam over the death of someone she knew. That was what actual grieving was for.

Huh. Funny. He didn't remember having tears to shed even before he turned into a mashou.

He decided to speed up a bit after the likely third party, even if he had to run less silent to do it.

Closing in was easy. It was always the last approach that was the hardest, in situations like this, especially in urban environments where a handful of vertical feet of fuzziness could span multiple crumbling floors. They were moving fast - extremely fast, letting off tiny, localized pulses of magic Makoto was only picking up on because he was both actively looking for them and quite adept at this particular activity. But that was a combination that reeked of a mashou with explicit movement powers.

Of course, they knew Makoto was somewhere in the vicinity - their ping had bought them that. So following them was a refreshingly challenging puzzle: how to keep up with someone using specialized acceleration magic while only having general booster techniques for himself. But wasn't aiming particularly for stealth, so what the hell? He could rush a bit. Flex those designer muscles, pump a little energy from that soul gem of his.

And to his credit, even at this pace, Makoto wasn't caught entirely by surprise when the ground quite literally vanished in front of him. He actually had a split-second to react to a chunk of the floor of the building he was currently dashing through (one of the many middle floors of an office building that had long since lost its windows) simply disappearing into an almost mirage-like image of an entirely different floor presented at a dizzying right angle the the original, plunging down and away.

Well, found them.

[Kuroimaken]

[Old Mitakihara]

Of course. Mirrors. To be fair, he was expecting something of that like at some point. At least she was just trying to delay him, as opposed to hurting him.

That doesn't mean he doesn't lose precious seconds shifting around in place, however. And then he'd need to find another route to her. He had to give Nuan kudos for her creativity - at top speed she could probably have lost him then and there.

But then, she probably assumed he would lose as much time on this funny business as most other mashou.

"Alice: Sky Boots."

The weapons-grade armor materialized around his feet. In addition to the expected boost in reaction speed, he could use his "bullets" for short bursts of impulse flight. It was certainly less expensive, magic-use-wise, than using raw magic for every little jump.

Of course, he still needed the occasional foothold to keep up with her. And that posed a problem, since he couldn't figure out where the mirrors were and where the concrete walls stubbornly remained. This was a simple case to solve. He just needed to map the route he would use, and avoid the obvious pitfalls where stepping in would cause him to lose footing and speed if he were wrong. This, of course, was what he was expected to do, and so would be the hesitation upon realizing she could have just as easily double-trapped a pathway that never existed in the first place.

The average mashou would take some good five to ten seconds to plan it out. The average eager mashou would then waste two to three seconds testing that route, only to lose to the first point where Nuan decided to doublethink on the fly. Said mashou would then waste a variable amount of time trying to figure a way to keep up with Nuan, based on their personal powers and characteristics.

Makoto, on the other hand, was more than used to thinking critically at high speeds. He had found a solution already on the fly.

Fun fact about concrete. Save for the most incompetent, any engineer will tell you that the key to a comfortable apartment is good insulation. You want to keep it cold in the summer and hot in the winter. How do you do that? You want a material for your walls that is slow to heat up and even slower in losing that heat. Typically, this is done by using an inside layer in between the layers of concrete to make up for its own properties.

What does this have to do with the problem at hand, you ask?

Mirrors are essentially a thin layer of silver in between layers of glass. Neither material insulates well. Therefore, all Makoto has to do is create a "bubble" of rapidly cooling air around himself as he navigates the maze that Nuan prepared for him. The mirrors will be where the condensation appears.

[Selinia]

[Old Mitakihara]
[The Chase]

Spoiler

Show

Of course. Mirrors. To be fair, he was expecting something of that like at some point. At least she was just trying to delay him, as opposed to hurting him.

That doesn't mean he doesn't lose precious seconds shifting around in place, however. And then he'd need to find another route to her. He had to give Nuan kudos for her creativity - at top speed she could probably have lost him then and there.

But then, she probably assumed he would lose as much time on this funny business as most other mashou.

"Alice: Sky Boots."

The weapons-grade armor materialized around his feet. In addition to the expected boost in reaction speed, he could use his "bullets" for short bursts of impulse flight. It was certainly less expensive, magic-use-wise, than using raw magic for every little jump.

Of course, he still needed the occasional foothold to keep up with her. And that posed a problem, since he couldn't figure out where the mirrors were and where the concrete walls stubbornly remained. This was a simple case to solve. He just needed to map the route he would use, and avoid the obvious pitfalls where stepping in would cause him to lose footing and speed if he were wrong. This, of course, was what he was expected to do, and so would be the hesitation upon realizing she could have just as easily double-trapped a pathway that never existed in the first place.

The average mashou would take some good five to ten seconds to plan it out. The average eager mashou would then waste two to three seconds testing that route, only to lose to the first point where Nuan decided to doublethink on the fly. Said mashou would then waste a variable amount of time trying to figure a way to keep up with Nuan, based on their personal powers and characteristics.

Makoto, on the other hand, was more than used to thinking critically at high speeds. He had found a solution already on the fly.

Fun fact about concrete. Save for the most incompetent, any engineer will tell you that the key to a comfortable apartment is good insulation. You want to keep it cold in the summer and hot in the winter. How do you do that? You want a material for your walls that is slow to heat up and even slower in losing that heat. Typically, this is done by using an inside layer in between the layers of concrete to make up for its own properties.

What does this have to do with the problem at hand, you ask?

Mirrors are essentially a thin layer of silver in between layers of glass. Neither material insulates well. Therefore, all Makoto has to do is create a "bubble" of rapidly cooling air around himself as he navigates the maze that Nuan prepared for him. The mirrors will be where the condensation appears.

With a solution to the mirror-mirages well in hand, the remainder of the trap was little more than a simple (albeit, rather vertigo-inducing) maze. Nuan couldn't extend her mirrors forever, or in all directions, and Makoto had been near the center of this broken building's floorspace when the mirages sprung into being. Mazes were not terribly complicated at this scale, and for all that she'd probably done this trick before, Makoto doubted Nuan had found the time to devise anything specific to take advantage of this particular environment. Some time was lost, that was inevitable, but far less than his quarry would expect. If he was lucky - no, scratch that, if he was quick and precise - he might even be able to...

There. A few steps from breaking free of the maze - close enough to see the exit - a combination of intuition and magical sense locked his gaze to one of the upper floors of a skyscraper less than a block away. An opalescent shimmering burns behind the windows. So, that was her plan; to gum up her pursuer with a maze, and use the bought time to transform and put herself in the clear with her boosted abilities, speed included. An ambush couldn't be ruled out, but Li Nuan didn't really seem the type. Something worth registering as a possibility, regardless.

But either way, he had visual confirmation, and a solid grasp of his target's location, with a relatively clear path to it. It wouldn't do to rush in heedless of danger, especially with the third, unidentified mashou still about and a not-insignificant possibility of another trap... but even so, Makoto was on the last lap of this little footrace.

[Kuroimaken]

Trap, no trap. Didn't matter. He had her in his field of view, down to a tiny spot in his eyes, and he was almost out.

Of course, stretching his mind that far was a little bit of work. But nothing compared to the workout from before.

He still had no idea who the other mashou was or what her capabilities might be. But, again, it didn't matter. He didn't need to get THAT much closer, so he slowed his step, pretending to look wary. (To a certain point, that was true, but he made a point to make it seem like it was a bigger deal than it was).

<<Whoever you expected, it was not me. So quit it with the dog and pony show already.>>

He doubted she would obey the command - he wasn't being overly forceful. Rather, he was trying to make a point. His abilities were not common knowledge just yet, but now that he had made first contact, he could find her just about anywhere. He knew what her mind was like.

He also made it a point not to read beyond her surface thoughts. He expected confusion, a bit of hesitation, possibly even a little fear (which helped). But he wasn't trying to figure out what she had planned. Makoto doubted Li Nuan had that much experience with telepaths, yet his intent should be clear enough.