At the Metropolitan Police Department, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.
A middle-aged man wearing an eyepatch slammed his palm down on the table, veins bulging along his arm.
Bang!
One of his eyes was bloodshot as he stared at the screen, where Shaton was materializing bullets out of thin air and slaughtering his way through the scene. He roared in fury:
"Baka! Can someone tell me—what the hell is that thing?!"
At first, they'd thought it was a terrorist attack, which was why reporters had been allowed to film.
In his view, this would have been the perfect chance to show the might of the island nation.
Later, once the culprit's nationality was confirmed, they could even seize the moral high ground and launch diplomatic attacks.
But instead—
A biohazard.
A paranormal awakening.
Damn it… Had he time-traveled or something?
Did the genre really have to change this fast?
Behind him, another senior officer frowned deeply, his brows knitting together.
He stepped forward, raised his head slightly to study the screen, and spoke in a calm, measured tone:
"Superintendent Mizutani, please calm down."
"I believe our top priority isn't identifying what he is, but capturing him as soon as possible and completely sealing off the information."
In emergencies, anger was useless. He understood Mizutani's feelings—but no amount of rage would let him break through the screen and reach the scene.
As the commander of the SAT unit, equal in rank to Mizutani,
Aoki Masato quickly raised a hand to the microphone at his chest and contacted his team, instructing them in a steady voice to proceed with extreme caution.
Afterward, he lowered his hand and continued:
"Cut off the surrounding signals. Suppress the information for as long as possible. My rapid-response unit will arrive shortly."
"I don't know why this… individual ended up like this, but… Mizutani, you understand."
"Whether it's a yokai or a bioengineered human, higher-ups care far more than we do."
The island nation had long been steeped in superstition about yokai, with countless urban legends fabricated over the years.
All of that was supposed to be fake.
Yet now, something real had appeared.
The people above them would probably go insane.
Immortality.
Eternal youth.
The supernatural represented limitless possibilities.
And if it was the latter—biological modification—it could also strengthen national power.
Mizutani took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently. Even though he knew Aoki was right, as a staunch materialist, witnessing this with his own eyes had still shaken him badly.
His hands whitened as he pressed them against the table. After cursing inwardly a few times, he decisively ordered the signal cut, then bent toward the microphone and shouted:
"Yamamura! Yamamura! Do you read me?!"
"Fall back! Fall back! Do not engage that monster head-on!"
He tried to contact the officers on site—but all he got in return was harsh, grating static.
Many drones had been caught in the shockwaves of the bullets. The screens were now filled with shaking snow, making it impossible to determine casualties.
Seeing this, he ripped off his headset and slammed it onto the desk.
"Baka!"
"..."
A trace of sympathy appeared on Aoki Masato's face.
But given their different roles, it quickly faded. His eyes locked back onto Shaton on the screen as he calmly and decisively analyzed the situation:
"Tranquilizer darts hit but had no effect… as expected of a non-human entity. The question is whether the dosage was insufficient."
"And those black bullets—what are they? His blood? Or…?"
A storm of thoughts churned through his mind. He frowned slightly, searching his memory for any corresponding yokai legends.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, nothing matched.
Perhaps it wasn't a well-known one.
Just as he settled down to continue observing—planning to judge only after capture—Mizutani's personal phone suddenly rang.
"Hai… hai…"
The man who'd been so domineering moments ago now looked exceptionally deferential. Even with no one in front of him, he bent at the waist and nodded repeatedly.
Aoki Masato didn't need to guess—it was a call from the Prime Minister's Office.
The order was likely to capture the yokai alive, to peer into the so-called supernatural.
He only hoped… there wouldn't be too many casualties.
He let out a heavy breath.
...
The World of Frieren
When Milialde saw Yuhran reappear, she hurried over, carefully supporting him as she helped him stand.
She didn't bother asking what that door was. None of that mattered.
The only thing she cared about now was—
Where had the demon gone?
Had Yuhran really managed to handle it alone?
Yuhran coughed lightly, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he steadied his slightly ragged breathing.
"It's not resolved yet. Let me rest for a moment first. No one else saw the scene of me disappearing, right?"
He trusted only Milialde. Elves were naturally even-tempered and wouldn't develop greedy impulses as easily as humans.
"No," Milialde shook her head, lifting her gaze as she spoke and scanning the surroundings.
The area was riddled with craters, as if ravaged by an earthquake.
Even the city gate had collapsed. The passage leading outside was gone—there was no way anyone could have appeared.
"That's good." Yuhran finally relaxed.
A moment later, he turned around without drawing attention, took out the Gate Between Worlds again, resized it to the size of his palm, and placed it on the ground before opening it.
After adjusting the angle, he quickly saw the scene of Shaton fighting the police in the real world.
This was a new use Yuhran had discovered for the Gate Between Worlds—he could observe the other side without physically crossing over.
Gunfire crackled sharply from within the gate. Milialde frowned slightly and instinctively glanced toward the source of the sound.
Not knowing what Yuhran was doing and assuming it was some special magical artifact, she gave it only a brief look before turning her gaze away.
Lowering her head, she carefully examined her injuries, gently pressing on the wounds as she silently judged when she could set out again.
—She'd nearly died here… she was still too weak. In this state, how could she safely reach the royal capital?
She had to train harder.
"Yuhran, you—"
She tried to lift her head, intending to ask whether he wanted to travel with her.
Since he could cast magic now, he should possess mana. With her guidance as an elven mentor, his progress would surely be rapid.
But just as she'd spoken three words, Yuhran suddenly took out the holy tome.
His finger brushed across the cover.
In an instant, a brilliant white light burst forth with the flipping of the pages and shot straight through the gate.
Whoosh!
"Ahhh—!"
Accompanied by the scream of a certain demon, Milialde froze, lips parting in shock.
Wait—was that… a sacred artifact?
Because its form was completely different from an ordinary holy scripture, she remembered it clearly: a two-winged angel relief was engraved at the center of the cover.
She hadn't seen it clearly earlier due to the tense situation—but why… was it following Yuhran?
Could it be that he possessed some talent she didn't know about?
Her thoughts tangled into chaos. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat thunder as shock overwhelmed her.
If the clergy found out about this, they'd probably go mad.
Her vision seemed to brighten.
As expected of the human she had taken a liking to.
She was growing more and more eager for the journey ahead.
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