Chapter 303: The Blockade
Sora walked through the echoing hallway toward her sector, the sound of her
boots a steady, rhythmic cadence in the hollow space.
"Therefore, the savory palette is the superior logic," she stated.
"Incorrect!"
Bochi, perched atop her head, slapped her forehead with a tiny tentacle for
emphasis.
"Glucose-based sustenance is the absolute peak! Sweetness is the greatest
variable in the Multiverse!"
"That is because you have never processed a Savory Egg-Yolk Meat Zongzi."
"A Zongzi must be sweet! Red bean paste! Candied dates! That is the only valid
configuration!"
"Salted yolk and pork is Tier-S, and you know it."
"SWEET!"
"SALTY!"
The debate between the girl and the slime terminated abruptly at the third-floor
landing.
Standing before Sora's door were four individuals. They wore civilian
attire—three males and one female—but their posture was rigid and their Od
signatures were steady and focused. They were a total mismatch for the mundane
residential sector.
At their head was a man in his early thirties wearing gold-rimmed spectacles. He
radiated an aura of refined intellect, but Sora's sensory nodes detected a
deeper, far more dangerous power beneath the skin.
He was strong. Significantly stronger than any Night Watchman Sora had ever
encountered.
The motion-sensor lights ignited as she approached, the amber glow illuminating
the two parties. The man in spectacles offered a calibrated, professional smile.
He adjusted his glasses, his gaze sliding past Sora to lock onto the blue blob
perching in her hair.
"A pleasure to initiate contact, Lord Bochi."
The man's voice was as smooth as silk, but the choice of words caused Sora's
heart to skip a beat.
He knows Bochi's designation.
Bochi tilted its body, its black-bean eyes scanning the group with open
curiosity. "Identify yourselves. Have you arrived to provide the scheduled cake
delivery?"
The man's smile remained fixed. "My name is Kenji, Minister of the Federal
Intelligence Department."
The introduction was concise, but the impact was a physical weight. Sora
subconsciously swallowed a lump in her throat.
The Federation. Intelligence Department. Minister.
The combination of those three data points was the opposite of "Friendly
Citizen." Sora balled her fists, her body shifting into a high-alert defensive
posture.
"We possess zero hostile intent," Kenji said, noticing her tension. He raised
both hands, splayed wide, to signal a lack of immediate threat.
"We merely wish to facilitate a dialogue with Lord Bochi and Miss Sora."
"May we enter your sector?"
Sora didn't move. Her brain was performing a high-speed audit of the situation.
How did they localize this coordinate? How much data do they have on Bochi? What
is their ultimate win-condition?
As Sora worked through the head-storm, Bochi spoke up.
"After the dialogue is concluded, is there a sustenance phase?"
Kenji seized the opening. "Affirmative."
"If Lord Bochi agrees to the dialogue, we can provide any flavor profile your
soul craves."
Bochi's eyes flared. "Statistical truth? I demand cheesecake, strawberry mochi,
cream puffs, and a chocolate lava-cake!"
"Accepted," Kenji replied without a second of hesitation.
"Very well. Authorize their entry, Guide-Unit," Bochi commanded.
Sora looked at the four officials, then felt the vibrating, dessert-obsessed
weight of the slime on her head. With a heavy sigh, she retrieved her keys.
Click.
The door swung open. The cramped living room felt significantly smaller as the
four intruders stepped inside. Kenji and his subordinates didn't sit; they
remained standing in the center of the room, maintaining a formation of
professional observation.
Sora locked the door and turned to face them. "What is the nature of this
dialogue?"
Kenji's focus remained anchored to Bochi, who had hopped onto the coffee table
and was currently rolling an apple back and forth.
"We are here to petition for your assistance, Lord Bochi," Kenji said, his
posture one of calculated humility.
Bochi wrapped a tentacle around the apple and tossed it into the air, ignoring
the Minister entirely.
Kenji didn't seem bothered by the neglect. He pulled a tablet from his jacket
and tapped a icon, projecting a high-definition video into the air.
"Observe," he said, handing the device to Sora.
The screen displayed a landscape of absolute ruin. Judging by the geography, it
was a coastal metropolis. Now, it was a tomb. High-rises were snapped like
twigs; streets were pulverized into rubble; thick, black smoke choked every
sector.
In the center of the carnage was a monstrosity that defied biological
classification. It resembled a gargantuan starfish, but every individual limb
was covered in hundreds of blinking, twitching human eyes. In the center of its
mass was a maw of serrated teeth that opened and closed with a rhythmic, wet
sound.
Moving around the beast were a dozen blurred silhouettes—Night Watchmen. They
were launching a desperate barrage of attacks, but their strikes barely broke
the creature's outer skin-layer. It was a statistical mismatch.
Suddenly, a limb of the beast performed a high-velocity sweep. A Watchman,
caught mid-pivot amongst the rubble, was struck squarely. His frame
disintegrated instantly, turning into a fine mist of crimson.
The video terminated.
Sora's complexion turned ashen. She recognized the variable.
Tier 3 Anomaly: The Thousand-Eyed Star.
It was one of the few "Battle-Royale" style Instances—a Raid Boss that required
a massive team and the exploitation of specific Rule-flaws to defeat. To see it
manifested in the Real World was a nightmare scenario.
"That occurred three cycles ago in the Blue-Sea Sector," Kenji stated, his voice
a flat drone.
"To neutralize it, the Federation deployed three elite Vanguard squads. Total
liquidation: fifteen units. Seven more are currently in critical failure."
"Eventually, Chief Frost had to intervene personally to achieve liquidation. Her
system experienced a total Od-overload; she is currently in a life-support
stasis-tank."
Kenji paused, looking at Sora. "This is the third Tier 3 manifestation in the
Real World this month alone."
"Our predictive models suggest that next month, that frequency will increase to
five, or possibly ten."
"Miss Sora, you understand the demographic implications."
Sora understood perfectly. The Night Watchman infrastructure is undergoing a
total collapse.
The Federation's apex combatants were people like Lyra Frost. If the "Heads"
were being forced to take the field this frequently and suffering terminal
trauma, it meant the lower-tier defenders were already irrelevant. The walls
were being torn down, layer by layer.
"Time is a resource we no longer possess," Kenji said. He finally shifted his
gaze from the slime to look Sora in the eye. "We have observed Lord Bochi for a
duration. We are aware his output exceeds our most advanced calculations."
"Hoisting a twenty-five-ton industrial coil is a feat of God-tier strength. And
statistically, he is not a predatory unit."
"Therefore, we have manifested here."
Kenji performed a deep, ninety-degree bow toward Bochi. His three subordinates
followed suit in a perfectly synchronized display of contrition.
"In the name of the Federal High Council, we formally petition Lord Bochi to
assist us. Assist the human species in weathering this terminal cycle."
Silence reclaimed the room.
Bochi finally set the apple down. It looked up at Kenji, its black-bean eyes
cold and detached.
"Assist? Logic for assistance?"
Bochi's voice was filled with a genuine, childish confusion.
"Does the survival of your species impact my exploratory itinerary?"
☆☆☆
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