The induction ceremony was over.
He had successfully joined the Tendo Civil Security Company.
However, he could also tell that while both Kisara and Rentaro had accepted him, and Kisara had even taken a keen interest in him, that fundamental wariness never fully faded.
No matter.
He didn't mind.
Between people, sincerity was always exchanged for sincerity.
There was plenty of time—they could take it slow, getting to know each other gradually.
But since he didn't have a Civil Officer license yet, he couldn't help with any requests for the time being.
So, over the next few days, he busied himself with his own affairs.
First, he settled his household registration.
Perhaps because the world was in a state akin to an apocalypse, the registration process wasn't as strict as he'd expected—in fact, it was incredibly lax.
As long as you had money, you could get it done. No wonder Kisara had been so confident she could handle it…
Along the way, he also bought an apartment.
As for the money? He simply picked up some pebbles from the roadside, transmuted them into gold, and exchanged them for cash.
Pretty convenient.
Whether it would cause inflation and drive gold prices down wasn't his concern.
He wasn't planning to stay here forever.
Besides, the amount of gold he used was negligible—even if the entire chunk from the agency were circulated into the market, it would be easily absorbed.
A few days later, Mahiro went out for groceries as usual.
But the moment he stepped onto the street, he noticed the sky overhead had darkened with thick clouds, drizzling a fine rain.
"Good thing I brought an umbrella."
Mahiro opened his umbrella and strolled through the rain, reflecting on the intel he'd gathered over the past few days.
Though he'd been occupied with miscellaneous tasks, he'd still managed to collect quite a bit of information. Combined with his prior knowledge of this world, he had a rough grasp of the current situation.
Beyond the Monoliths, of course, lurked the threat of countless Gastrea, categorized by genetic complexity from Lv1 to Lv4.
And above Lv4 were the Lv5 Zodiacs—the greatest menace to this world.
They were walking natural disasters.
A single one of them was enough to annihilate an entire human habitation zone.
That's right—because of the Gastrea, this world no longer operated on a national scale. Instead, humanity was divided into various habitation zones, like the Tokyo Area beneath his feet, each governed by different leaders.
Even among these regions, there was constant scheming and frequent friction over various matters.
This was no exception even within the Tokyo Area.
Thinking of this, he gazed through his transparent umbrella at the distant, snow-white figure on the large screen—blurred by the rain.
Seitenshi—the young leader of the Tokyo Area. Since taking office, she had been dedicated to protecting the "Cursed Children," despised by the world, even proposing the "New Gastrea Law"—a bill that sought to respect the basic human rights of the Cursed Children.
Unfortunately, it had been repeatedly rejected by the Senate. In contrast, the "Residence Deprivation Act," pushed by her aide, Kouno Tendo, which stripped the Cursed Children of their rights, had nearly passed.
It was only due to the Holy Emperor's desperate opposition that the bill had not been enacted.
"An idealist, but a kind one at that."
Even if she was just a puppet—a caged canary under Tendo Kazumitsu's control—she was at least trying to do what she could for those pitiful children.
Honestly, he didn't dislike someone like that.
Watching the misty, rain-soaked world before him, he slowly lowered his umbrella, letting the cool droplets fall onto his face and trickle down his features.
If only this filthy world could be purified by the rain.
"What am I thinking? I'm no savior—just a passing traveler. And if I had to choose, I'd rather be a world-ending demon king—that'd be more satisfying."
Feeling the purity in the rain, Mahiro chuckled self-deprecatingly, suppressing those unrealistic thoughts before raising his umbrella again and continuing his stroll down the nearly deserted street.
At least, that was how it should have been.
As the rain intensified, Tokyo's drainage system seemed to struggle, leaving many areas flooded.
Then, from a dim, waterlogged alleyway, came faint sobbing.
Turning his head, he saw a toppled metal trash can half-submerged in the rainwater.
Curious, Mahiro wondered—what kind of creature would hide in a trash can to escape the rain? A stray round-headed old man? Or an abandoned stray dog?
To uncover the truth, he activated his "Spirit Eyes."
"Oh, an abandoned stray puppy."
Judging by her size, she was probably only seven or eight years old. Nearly half her body was submerged in the pooled rainwater, curled up in the trash can like discarded garbage. Her body was covered in bruises, and a knife wound on her back was still bleeding.
She trembled slightly—whether from cold or pain, it was hard to say.
How rare—to see a wild Cursed Child in the heart of Tokyo.
After all, the people here weren't kind to them. If found, they'd be captured and tortured to death.
Even with their immense strength, these children didn't dare resist, allowing these human-faced monsters to brutalize them.
Pitiful, but that was the reality.
Intrigued, Mahiro stepped into the alley and approached the overturned trash can.
"...Ugh..."
The girl inside whimpered softly again.
The discomfort of her body temperature being gradually stolen by the stagnant water, along with the intense pain radiating throughout her body, made her tremble uncontrollably.
The icy, rust-flavored filth flowing past her lips felt familiar—painfully so.
It was the taste of blood.
Not someone else's, but her own.
The girl was long accustomed to this. After all... it would heal soon enough.
If anything, this was the only thing that brought her slight relief.
The numbness from blood loss and the freezing water soaking her battered, bruised body dulled the agony somewhat.
In fact, she wished this bone-chilling cold could completely strip away her warmth—her life.
But that was impossible.
Even with her body temperature dangerously unstable, even covered in wounds too severe to move, even with a gash on her back deep enough to nearly pierce her frail frame...
She knew this much wouldn't kill her.
Cursed Children possessed monstrous resilience. Injuries like these were far from fatal.
To end her, you'd need to crush her skull or shred her heart.
How did she know?
Once, she'd witnessed a companion die exactly like that.
Though she'd narrowly escaped that fate, looking back now, she almost wished she'd died alongside her friend.
Surviving severe injuries might be a blessing for most, but for her, it was a curse.
Or rather, merely being alive was torment.
She hadn't clung to life out of some vow or lingering attachment to this world.
Her body simply refused to let her die.
The dregs of survival instinct and terrifying regenerative abilities forced her to endure—
Scavenging rotten scraps from dumpsters when starvation became unbearable.
Drinking filthy street puddles when thirst grew intolerable.
She'd weathered it all.
Even now, with her body numb and consciousness fading, she knew death wouldn't come.
Ah... she'd been through this countless times. Her wounds would likely heal before blood loss could finish her.
All she could do was drag her battered body back each time to this place that offered meager warmth, curling up to wait for dawn.
Though she knew full well—
That come morning, her injuries would vanish as if by magic, the rising sun's rays would still feel gentle...
For her, everything remained hopelessly gray.
After all, she wasn't human.
Just an unkillable monster—what others called a Gastrea.
Since death eluded her, she had no choice but to keep existing.
'Then... might as well drink more to fill my stomach... gotta recover enough to move tomorrow.'
With this thought, the girl curled inside the dumpster slightly parted her lips, letting the near-suffocating water trickle into her mouth, swallowing it bit by bit with feeble gulps.
"Hmm... Although it smells like trash and blood... it's still much better than the ditch water..."
The girl quietly rejoiced in her heart as if tasting sweet dew—this was her small moment of happiness.
Though there were cleaner water sources in the park, she didn't dare go there. She would only be seen as a monster polluting the water and endure even more brutal beatings.
And perhaps because they feared the law, those people didn't dare kill her, which to her was an even greater torment.
So this stagnant water, tainted with the smell of garbage and her own blood, could truly be called sweet dew. Of course, if possible, she would much rather drink pure, untouched rainwater falling from the sky.
She wished for this.
Until a warm, gentle touch brushed against her head.
"...Is it... the divine one? Has the divine one... come to take me away?"
Perhaps the small amount of water she had just drunk gave her the strength to speak these words in her severely weakened state.
After all, she had never felt such tender caresses, such warmth in a touch.
"It's not the divine one... Are you alright? Though I suppose that's a foolish question—looking at you now, it's clear you're far from alright."
Hearing this slightly magnetic voice, the girl jolted awake. With sudden, inexplicable strength, she flipped over inside the trash bin, as if trying to escape and curl into a corner.
But the bin was small and round—where could she possibly hide?
Add to that her extreme hunger and massive blood loss, and she had no strength left to flee. All she could do was struggle weakly.
"Please... don't hit me..."
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Stay still."
Ignoring her protests and struggles, Mahiro planted his umbrella into a nearby trash bin and scooped the girl out of the rain.
So light.
The weight in his arms felt as insubstantial as a sheet of paper.
Is this what a cursed child is like…?
Lost in thought, Mahiro drew a pistol-shaped CAD from his coat and aimed it at her.
"Ah…"
The girl let out a small gasp, freezing the moment she saw the gun.
Was she really going to die this time…?
Strangely, she felt no fear—only relief.
Slowly, she closed her eyes, surrendering to fate.
If she could die like this… that would be for the best…
[Initiating trace of individual information body alteration history…]
[Confirming restoration point…]
[Restoration commencing…]
The girl felt a glow envelop her, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.
So warm…
Is this death…?
A sweet smile unconsciously formed on her lips. If possible, she wished to sleep forever in this warmth, never to wake again.
But that was nothing more than a fleeting dream.
Moments later, a drop of cold moisture touched her cheek.
"I'm… not dead?"
"Of course not. I don't have any twisted hobbies."
The girl slowly opened her eyes to find that gentle, handsome face now mere inches from hers. Strangely, though, his face was slightly damp—more so than before.
Was it rain?
And then, at his words, she realized with shock—
Not only was she alive, but all her wounds had vanished without a trace.
It was as if she had just woken up in the morning—except her body still felt weak, and a fierce hunger gnawed at her.
"You look hungry. Want to come home with me? I'll make you something to eat."
Though he phrased it as a question, Mahiro didn't wait for an answer before scooping her up and carrying her off, regardless of her protests.
Because he already knew—she would refuse if given the choice. Asking was pointless.
To put it bluntly, it was like saying—
"Found a cat, folks! It totally wants to come home with me!"
After forcibly bringing her back to his apartment, the girl lingered at the entrance, unwilling to step inside—perhaps afraid of dirtying the pristine floor.
Until he pulled her in again.
Even then, she curled up in a corner, pressing her small feet together to minimize the space she "contaminated."
Mahiro said nothing, simply fetching a clean towel from the bathroom and tossing it over her.
Drenched from the rain, the girl was still soaked. He would've preferred to dry her off properly—maybe even give her a bath—but every time he stepped closer, she shrank back.
Eventually, she pressed against the wall, trembling with fear.
Mahiro: "..."
He really wanted to know—what had those bastards done to make a child this young so wary, to break her spirit to this extent?
But from the intel he'd gathered recently, he could guess.
The actions of these people had already surpassed the lowest limits of human decency. Beatings were the mildest—or perhaps the luckiest—form of abuse. The more severe cases involved torture and murder for amusement, carried out in ways even he couldn't have imagined.
Ways he didn't even dare to think about.
Humiliation, abuse, gang rape, being used as live targets to test the power of experimental weapons...
"Never mind. Just stay here for now. I need to go out—I'll be back in about an hour."
Mahiro didn't want to dwell on it any longer. After changing into clean clothes, he gave the girl a brief instruction, locked the apartment door, and left.
Deep down, Mahiro knew he wasn't a savior. But when faced with these pitiful children, he couldn't help but extend a helping hand.
They didn't deserve such treatment.
Mahiro headed straight to the nearest supermarket to stock up on daily necessities.
Because of the girl, he bought more food than usual.
But as he was checking out, his phone rang.
"Hello, President Kisara. What's the matter, calling at this hour?"
"It's about the Civil Officer license exam. It's scheduled for tomorrow—just go directly to the IISO Tokyo branch. I'll be waiting for you there."
"Got it. Thanks, President Kisara."
The call ended.
Another exam?
Mahiro sighed inwardly.
Ugh, he hated these things the most, yet no matter where he went, they always seemed to follow.
A light drizzle pattered rhythmically against his umbrella as Mahiro walked silently through the rain, brushing past other umbrella-wielding pedestrians. As he quickened his pace to hurry home, he couldn't help but entertain the thought of buying a car.
After all, relying solely on his legs was a bit inconvenient.
He could use acceleration spells, but that would draw too much attention.
But if he bought a car, he wasn't all that familiar with the area...
Pondering these trivial matters, Mahiro gradually sped up, eager to get home and check on the stray "Pochi" he'd picked up.
Had she already run away?
Even though he'd deadbolted the door, he still felt uneasy.
Fortunately, the girl was still there when he returned.
She seemed to have dried herself off, but she was still wrapped in the bath towel, curled up in a dark corner of the room.
Her disheveled black hair, nearly reaching her waist, spilled across the floor. Beneath her bangs, her crimson eyes gleamed like those of a Tindalos Hound lurking in the shadows.
Thankfully, the girl wasn't that dangerous.
But when she noticed his return, a flicker of fear surfaced in her eyes. Facing Mahiro, she was both terrified and confused.
The girl didn't understand why he had brought her here.
She was so filthy—if he wanted to torture and kill her, wouldn't it be better to do it outside? That way, she wouldn't taint this place.
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