[452] The Beginning of Change (4)
"Tagis was stolen?"
Mitgun, who always stood tall before the commander, couldn't keep his head up this time.
One of Yameng's elite operatives had been struck.
At the scene he'd inspected personally there were no signs of a desperate struggle. It had been a one-sided massacre.
More than half the bodies showed signs of being killed instantly.
"That's how it is. I've got the men searching now."
Bang!
Frankwine's fist dented the metal table inward.
"You're telling me you don't even know who did it? Among the raiders who attacked Yameng there must be an organization that knows the secret routes!"
"But there isn't any group on the mainland that could so easily subdue my men. You know that, don't you?"
Frankwine's fist struck Mitgun.
There was a wet crack as bone hit bone and the tall man was hurled into the wall.
"But you were subdued! Who is it? If you don't know, you'd better make something up and tell me."
Mitgun braced himself on the floor, got to his feet, and wiped the blood from his lip.
If he didn't pull himself together fast, he could be dead.
"The only ones I can even suspect are those people. The ones who hunt S-rank prey every day."
"You mean Armin?"
If anyone was worth pointing at, it was them.
Their individual skill was exceptional, and the ability to wipe out whole squads of subordinates was something rarely seen even on the mainland.
But why? Wasn't Tagis being transported to the Rebel Headquarters?
"Hmph. I'll have to see for myself."
Frankwine slid on his coat. "We're going to the First Rebel Headquarters."
Mitgun answered instantly. "How many men should I gather?"
"Men? Do you think those guys will be handled by some dogs? It's just you and me."
Mitgun's expression shifted.
It was the signal only two men who'd crossed countless battle lines to settle in Purgatory would recognize.
"All right."
Mitgun ground his teeth and loosened his throat.
He didn't mind being hit without reason by Frankwine, but he was furious at the idiots who had struck him in the back of the head, and his whole body itched to get even.
* * *
Tension at the First Rebel Headquarters was thicker than at any time since the Babel invasion.
Commander Crud greeted Frankwine, accompanied by Gaold and his retinue.
Rebel soldiers stood fully armed around them, but Frankwine strolled in like a man walking into his own home.
"Huh. Living in a place like this? Worse than I expected."
It was understandable—the Babel attack had destroyed half the unit's facilities.
Crud cut to the chase.
"What happened? Tagis was supposed to be here by now."
"Why are you asking me? We sent it."
"Are you serious—!"
As Crud narrowed his eyes and moved forward, Sein laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait. I'll handle this."
Sein swept a cold look over Frankwine.
The head of Yameng.
At best he'd thought of him as a mainland merchant, but the presence here had an extraordinary edge.
"You said you sent Tagis just now?"
"Yes. We did."
"But it hasn't arrived here?"
"Well. That's your problem, not mine."
Sein couldn't understand why he was so brazen.
If he were lying, he wouldn't risk his life coming this far.
Sent it but it didn't arrive? Theft?
Sein realized what Frankwine was implying.
"Are you suspecting us?"
"Suspecting?"
A brutal light flared in Frankwine's eyes.
"You kidding me? Do you all want to die?"
"Ugh!"
A choking sensation, as if the air itself had become poisonous, hit Crud and he stepped back, holding his breath.
The rebels had their arcs aimed, but none dared pull the trigger. A vague thought filled them—shooting now would mean certain death.
"You'd better tell the truth while I'm being reasonable. This is clearly your tech. Who did it?"
One thought flickered through Sein's mind.
'So they finally moved.'
He'd heard Yameng's skill was the finest on the mainland.
If such people had come all this way, losing men and raging about it, the thieves' skill couldn't be ordinary.
"First, let's go somewhere quiet."
Sein led Frankwine into the command control room, sat him down, and said, "I want to hear what happened."
Mitgun cocked his head.
If Tagis—built by pouring massive amounts of minerals and elixirs into it—had vanished, one would expect fury and demands to recoup the loss.
But the man across from him seemed more interested in the how of the theft than the item itself.
When Frankwine crossed his arms and gave the signal, Mitgun began his explanation.
Of course, all he could report was the state of the corpses left behind.
But it was enough for Sein.
About a dozen corpses cut by something sharp. One body blown to pieces—completely obliterated.
And that shredded corpse had been the leader.
"Roche of Metal and Tarban of Vibration. Cage B team."
Not as long-standing a unit as Cage A, Roche and Tarban had nonetheless been comrades since childhood—veterans and Cage B's strongest dealers.
Frankwine picked up on it and spoke at once.
"You seem to know something. Fine, we're not unreasonable. As for the item—"
"Tagis is irrelevant."
Gaold's words twisted Frankwine's face.
"Irrelevant? What do you mean irrelevant?"
"It means we won't hold you accountable for that."
Gaold stepped aside, letting Sein out of the seat and taking it himself. Frankwine's gaze swept him head to toe.
'This guy's power is on a different level.'
Everyone here was formidable, but Gaold's temperament was different. He'd fought beyond the usual crucible of war—almost like Frankwine himself.
"You mean you won't ask for accountability…?"
Gaold cut him off. "In return, we have a demand. One thing you must find for us. As the largest community on the mainland, you can do it."
"Find it? What is it?"
Gaold spoke one short word, and it unsettled Frankwine more than a long speech.
"Ha ha ha."
Frankwine's shoulders trembled. "You take me for a fool?"
Kraaaang!
He kicked the table to splinters and leapt up, swinging a fist at Gaold.
Of course Gaold didn't take it lying down.
The sudden scuffle startled Shirone's party, and Mitgun charged forward with both fists as if he'd been waiting.
Etella blocked, and fists exchanged like flashes.
When Etella's punch aimed for Mitgun's ribs, he dropped his elbow to defend.
Kuuung!
The vibration of the yin-yang wave-fist rippled through Mitgun's body like water.
'A wave?'
Mitgun was shoved aside and slammed into the wall.
But Etella couldn't follow up. The same kind of shock was spreading through her own body.
'What is this?'
"Annoying—"
As Gaold made a twitching face and tried to cast a spell, Etella shouted.
"No! That man is—"
A powerful air press crushed the control room.
Everything standing on the floor was flattened and the waists of Frankwine and Mitgun buckled.
'Mirror Cycle.'
In the next instant, every pressure acting on the space was applied to Gaold.
Kukukukukukung!
The floor beneath him caved in into a hemispherical depression, and for the first time Gaold felt the force of his own power manifest in his body.
"Ha ha, I still have a long way to go."
Gaold snorted, and silence fell over the control room.
Frankwine and Mitgun were surprised to see Gaold unscathed; for everyone else it was the first time they'd seen him take any real recoil.
Sein turned his gaze to Mitgun.
'He's using a strange ability. It's not reflecting the impact— it feels like it's bouncing the whole incident back.'
"Out-of-spec activation," came to mind first, but even his Iron Wheel Eye couldn't pin down any special trigger.
All they could do was suspect these people came from another world.
"Phew, this is—"
As Mitgun walked forward rubbing his fist, a crack split across his face.
Frankwine watched Mitgun touch his cheek in disbelief and looked back at Gaold.
'Mirror Cycle broke? One reckless bastard.'
Mitgun had few equals even in his original world.
At that thought the petty rage ebbed and the merchant's calculating mind returned.
"Fine. We'll find it for you. But we have conditions."
Gaold nodded without argument.
He didn't have time to fuss over Yameng.
"Say them."
"Give us the Second Rebel Headquarters—the Lacis facility. It's ruined anyway; you've no use for it."
"Fine. So long as you bring it back intact."
Frankwine scoffed and turned to leave.
Chek, chek.
Mitgun's face twitched oddly—more fissures appeared, then healed.
When the two left, Sein asked, "Gaold, what are you thinking? That wasn't in the plan."
"I heard the wind in Niflheim."
Gaold said no more and turned away.
If Miro was trapped in the great war of the multiverse, it might already be too late to get him back.
Gaold's clock was ticking faster than anyone else's.
* * *
That night.
Once everyone had gathered, Gaold spoke.
"I'm going out for a bit. When Tagis is reinforced I'll strike, so be fully prepared."
Plu asked, "Where are you going? If it's a mission, take some teammates—"
Gaold shook his head. It was something no one could join; only he could do it.
"I'll be back by tomorrow. Keep watch at home, you mutts."
When Gaold slipped into the darkness, Shirone asked Sein, "Is he going to find Tagis?"
"Probably. If Hell was telling the truth, Miro's life hangs by a thread. He knows he can't wait."
"But how does he know where to look?"
"Gaold doesn't need to search. They'll find him."
Sein cast a troubled look at Kangnan.
"You raised his pain threshold a millionfold?"
"Yes. That was the scale of the force I saw."
"Dangerous."
"I agree. If even a little—"
"No, that's not what I meant. I meant his mental state is dangerous. Since coming to Heaven, Gaold's pain threshold limit has risen and his power has increased dramatically. And he's already pinpointed Miro's location. He's hiding it, but he's probably not sane."
Kangnan said.
"Can we still try to track him?"
"Impossible. Annoying as he is, he's not the type you can tail. We'll have to leave it to him."
Shirone watched the darkness Gaold had gone into. A bad feeling gnawed at him.
"I've been meaning to ask—what happened between the Association Chairman and Miro?"
It was a simple question, but everyone pricked up their ears.
Only Sein, Gaold, and Miro knew the story.
Sein looked up at the sky.
If Gaold was to return tonight, it was going to be a long night.