On the other side of the portal, Garfield arrived on the Island.
After seven years of exploitation, the country had amassed a significant reserve of gold and through backroom dealings had acquired a limited quantity of High grade weaponry.
Their original plan had been to secure an entire production line.
Stark Industries had refused outright. Not only had they declined, they hadn't even bothered to entertain negotiations.
Infuriated, the island nation tripled their offer.
They were ignored again.
Left with no options, they dispatched their strongest onmyōji formation, intending to use mysticism as leverage to demonstrate that the island was not to be trifled with.
Only one onmyōji returned alive.
He carried a message.
Stark Industries was untouchable.
If they attempted this again, their Yasukuni shrine would be erased from existence.
Garfield appeared once more in the familiar capital.
Seven years had passed, yet little had changed. Wooden houses still dominated the skyline. Modern high-rises were few and far between.
The city remained aging and constrained.
Garfield lingered briefly, then cast a powerful Disillusionment spell, blending seamlessly into the crowd.
Cloaked in obscurity, he activated the Untraceable Mist-Step Catwalk and made his way toward the national vaults.
What he found irritated him.
The reserves were smaller than expected. They had learned, storage was decentralized.
Over the following days, Garfield conducted a series of silent inspections.
He located everything he could, uncovered classified documents detailing plans to destabilize and harm Asia, and copied them in full.
The evidence was sent to Old Carter.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
After several days, Garfield finished mapping every hidden storage location.
Then he acted.
For half a month, the island nation's skies behaved… strangely.
Explosions echoed from empty air. Objects vanished mid-transport. Entire shipments disappeared without warning.
By the time it ended, the gold reserved for aggressive warfare was gone.
Many onmyōji were dead and others were crippled. The island's mystical foundation was shattered… again.
That night, Garfield paid a personal visit to the imperial palace.
He shed his harmless form.
A colossal dragon covered in scales and barbs, stretching dozens of meters in length coiled through the sky above the palace, circling slowly.
Screams filled the air.
Then, a meteor formed overhead.
As the Emperor collapsed to his knees, legs trembling, Garfield withdrew the spell.
The dragon vanished.
Now the island nation faced a nightmare.
Their invasion reserves were gone, the dragon had returned.
And no one knew when it would appear again.
The government departments turned on one another. The Onmyōji factions argued fiercely, shifting blame.
Finally, one desperate voice rang out. "Even without funding, send us to Europe. Let us destroy that ancient dragon."
But deep down, they all knew the truth.
The dragon was not something that could be slain. And the next time it came, it would not leave so easily.
"You useless lot."
"We poured funds and resources into you, and last time you swore everything was under control."
The officer slammed his fist on the table, fury barely restrained.
"And don't think we've forgotten, weren't you the ones who secretly tracked down that dragon?"
"You nearly brought it down. If you hadn't provoked it, would it really have gone dormant for seven whole years?"
Naturally, the onmyōji refused to acknowledge any responsibility. To them, the dragon's disappearance was coincidence, not consequence.
The argument escalated rapidly. Accusations flew back and forth, old grudges resurfaced, and before long, the meeting dissolved into open hostility.
The rift between the Military Department and the mysterious side deepened yet again, the tension between mundane authority and the occult growing sharper by the day.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
While they quarreled, Garfield had already returned to Carter Manor.
With his spoils secured, he settled into a familiar corner of the estate, one he'd used countless times before and began preparing for refinement.
The air grew heavy with intent as he carefully arranged his materials.
As he was about to begin, something plummeted out of the sky.
A plump, round-faced Scottish chicken crashed straight into him, feathers flying everywhere. The bird flailed once, then went still, a sealed letter clenched firmly in its beak.
It had come from the barn.
"…Why is it always like this?" Garfield stared at the ridiculous messenger in silence.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream