Chapter Sixteen: "Hush"

There are always people who claim that even delicious food loses its flavor when one is in a terrible mood, but the taste of food remains unchanged. Those who say such things probably just can’t bring themselves to eat at the moment, right?

Gongsun Ce was eating ramen, and he found the food just as tasty as ever. That was a good sign; it meant he hadn’t lost his composure as he had when he first heard about the incident—he still had the presence of mind to keep calm.

Impulse is a frightening emotion; it makes one fixate on a single objective, blinding them to all other details. At present, he and Alice had no choice but to wait, and this awkward situation, in another sense, afforded him a rare opportunity.

He needed to use this time to eat and regain his strength, and also to gather more information so that he, knowing almost nothing, could figure out how to prevent the dragon’s advent amidst such a tangled web of intrigue.

Gongsun Ce tapped the table, signaling his question: “Who are these lunatic powerhouses you mentioned? I thought most Unchanging Magisters were officially affiliated, just like you.”

“In terms of numbers, that’s true, but the quality is another story. Some lawless types can’t stand having anyone boss them around. Some strange geniuses, with no mentor at all, manage to become adept simply by reading a few ancient tomes. Some, after long years of study, end up so changed in temperament that they become genuine monsters. And some are the products of absurd official experiments… There are all sorts, really. The world has an unexpectedly high number of Unchanging Magisters who don’t answer to any official body.”

As Alice spoke, she gazed up at the ceiling, as if recalling some unpleasant memories.

“Before the Wild Hunt unit was formed, we hunters had no official backing at all; we just muddled along on commissions. Employers who posted jobs came from all walks of life, and after enough time, we naturally came into contact with those people I just mentioned. Some are troublemakers you can’t help but get dragged into trouble with just by approaching them; others are disasters you should flee from the moment you spot them.”

Calling a person a “disaster” might be a bit much.

“You might think this is just the ingrained thinking of an Imperial citizen… But really, what country would allow dangerous individuals with strange powers to roam about unchecked?”

He had ample reason to make such a statement. Safety and stability always come first. As one of the most dangerous people in the world, this psychic, together with millions of compatriots, was currently being detained in the sky.

“How can you supervise them? Purely in terms of combat power, surely not every psychic is on your level, right? Most of the city’s residents with abilities are just youngsters with minor tricks, aren’t they? Right?” The hunter looked over with a pleading gaze, as if begging for reassurance.

I’m the weakest ability user in this city! What kind of reaction would Alice have to such a statement? He was rather curious, almost tempted to say it aloud.

Too bad Alice’s intuition was far too sharp; such a simple lie would never fool her.

“Most of the ability users I know are students with weak combat abilities. Their powers are mostly harmless—for example, turning fried chicken legs blue, halving cell phone charging times, changing the content of any book at hand to the first part of Don Quixote, and so on. You could call them superpowers, but in terms of real combat, they’re not much stronger than their peers elsewhere.”

“...That counts as a superpower?”

“The one who can halve charging time is quite popular—people often ask him to help with their power banks. Don’t you feel sorry for them, being locked up in the sky for such minor abilities?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know any of those psychics you’re talking about—I only know you, and judging from your combat performance, I’d say it’s perfectly understandable for you to be locked up here.”

How cruel.

He was just a helpful, good-natured young man, yet now he sounded like some villain who commits atrocities with a mad cackle, only to be brought to justice with a punch from a hero.

“I’m heartbroken.”

“Yeah, right.” The hunter rolled her eyes. “Aside from outliers like you, most psychics are low-threat teens, which is why the city’s containment operation went so smoothly. But those people I mentioned earlier—each of them is at least at the Manifestation stage, and some are rumored to be Reality-Shapers. There’s just no way to control them.”

Manifestation, Reality-Shaper—these were vague terms, little more than descriptions of levels.

If these might be future adversaries, he needed at least a rough idea of their strength to plan accordingly. Perhaps she used such terms because she didn’t know how to explain them to a layman.

In that case, it would be best to use something both of them understood as a reference.

The young man had a good idea: “How do those people compare to the Tyros K we just defeated? The agent said he was at least High Transcendent level, which, by your standards, makes him a skilled fighter.”

The blue-haired woman’s mouth twitched a few times.

“In front of them, Tyros K is about as menacing as a little yellow puppy.”

Even a High Transcendent is reduced to a dog.

The competition among Unchanging Magisters seemed intense these days.

“So, would you be a border collie or a Kerry Blue?”

“Probably a shorthair cat—I’m a cat person! Wait, who are you calling names?!” Alice glared at him, her long hair seeming to bristle like a cat’s raised hackles.

That fierce expression really did recall a cat with its back arched—quite intimidating.

The bespectacled young man pressed his hands downward, signaling for her to calm down. “Don’t get mad. I think dogs are very cute animals. So, according to your guess, these lawless independents are planning to meddle in Skydome City too?”

“The bigwigs in official circles are under too much scrutiny to act rashly. At this stage, all countries will only send mid- or lower-level agents like me and Hunter to probe the situation, saving their top people for the critical moment. But the independents have no such concerns. When I got that list from the Kingdom’s intelligence bureau, my head spun as if I’d teleported a dozen times in thirty seconds… What’s a mere High Transcendent like me supposed to do...”

The hunter clutched her head, wailing like an office worker who’s just discovered all her pay for the month has been docked.

Letting her wallow in that mood was unwise, so Gongsun Ce quickly interrupted her despair. “So who’s coming? At least give me the bare minimum of information.”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure. You can’t imagine how outrageous that list is. Heaven’s Limit, Night Wanderer, Crimson Mage, Hidden Lawmaster, Shigure… Every single one is a notorious calamity, with files marked ‘unknown’ and ‘extremely dangerous.’ I suspect the Kingdom’s intelligence just listed everyone that came to mind as dangerous, without any real evidence.”

How odd, amid that string of code names, there was one that sounded like an ordinary name.

“Who’s the worst of them?”

“Of course, Heaven’s Limit—the Imperial one.” The hunter’s voice was low, almost a curse.

“Judging by past records, everyone else only gets involved to achieve their own goals. But Heaven’s Limit is different… For him, fighting itself is the purpose. Nearly all his actions are battles for no reason at all. He fights the strong, fights the weak, fights anyone he finds interesting, stirs everything into chaos, then leaves, leaving behind a mess no one can clean up—a whirlwind for no reason, really.”

“Everyone knows the Eternal Light Empire has a madman who obeys no rules. He doesn’t care for wealth, fame, or status, nor for others’ safety or the peace of society; all he wants is a good fight to satisfy himself. If such a person got hold of a way to summon the dragon, what do you think he’d do?”

“Sounds like the kind of warrior who’d challenge the evil dragon to a one-on-one duel.”

“That’s exactly what scares me. Whether he kills the dragon or the dragon eats him, this city—and all of us—are doomed.” The hunter instinctively hugged her arms tighter. “The other person I absolutely don’t want to run into is Shigure from Zero Island.”

That name sounded familiar.

He opened a news site on his phone.

“I feel like I’ve heard that name recently. Should be on TV… in the news.”

It didn’t take long for him to find a recent headline.

Last month’s bloody case in eastern Zero Island.

It was said to be the largest mass-death incident in years.

Gongsun Ce pointed at the suspect’s photo on his phone. “Is it this person?”

The picture showed a slender long-haired woman, her dark eyes staring indifferently ahead. She looked like the sort who’d be right at home in a library—hard to imagine her involved in a murder case.

Beneath the photo was her name: Shigure Rei.

“They called it a mass-death incident, but really it was just a disgraceful accident. The Shigure Institute was wiped out by its own experimental subjects. It may not be my place to say this, but frankly, the world’s better off without those people.”

“You make it sound like some mad science organization.”

“That’s exactly what it was. Sky City’s universities are probably just as bad as that place, honestly.”

Comparable to the maniacs at Central Union University?

That was truly dire.

“The Shigure Institute was a research organization aiming purely for ‘practical’ results, trying to produce Unchanging Magisters on demand. Judging by their achievements over the years, their research went way too far—every Unchanging Magister who came out of there was either an incomprehensible maniac or a smiling murderer.”

When she said “practical,” the hunter emphasized the word, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“They’ve finally gotten themselves destroyed, and now the rest of us have to clean up the mess. From the scant information available, it looks like Shigure Rei is on her way to Skydome City, either to escape pursuit or because she has her eyes on the dragon cultists’ plan. No one knows what the Shigures will do.”

The Shigures? Plural?

“Is ‘Shigure’ a group name?”

“Every Unchanging Magister bred by that institute took the surname Shigure. Keeping your distance from anyone named Shigure is basic common sense in our line of work.”

“Doesn’t that make things hard for ordinary people who happen to be named Shigure?”

“If you’re an Unchanging Magister and you’re still naïve enough to think there could be such a coincidence around you, you’re liable to die a horrible death!”

An irrefutable point.

Though it made sense, he still felt troubled.

Suddenly being told all this information, so at odds with the normalcy he knew, created a powerful sense of dissonance. For a moment, he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

As if to impress it into his mind, Gongsun Ce softly repeated the two names.

“Heaven’s Limit and Shigure…”

The young man stared at his phone. At that moment, a notification from his social app chimed, bringing their conversation to an end.

He put away his phone. “They say it’s about time. If we head over now, we can get the intel in person.”

“We’re walking over? They insist on handing it over face-to-face?”

“People in their line of work always have their quirks.”

Alice tore up a napkin marked with symbols, and the odd feeling of silence vanished.

She counted out the exact cash from her bag and called for the bill.

The young man stepped out of the shop ahead of her.

Outside, the street was bustling with people.

Everyone hurried along the road, showing not the slightest sign of anything amiss.

He couldn’t help but wonder: if the people on this street knew about the impending dragon phenomenon—even if it was only a possibility…

Would this calm order be shattered?

Would the crowds collapse into chaos, would stampedes occur like those he’d heard of before? Surely, some would try to flee upon learning the news, but where could psychics even escape to…?

He had no way of knowing.

Nor did he want to imagine it any further.

At that moment—

(Gongsun, to your right.)

Without warning, a clear, audible voice sounded in his mind.

That gentle tone was all too familiar to his ears.

Gongsun Ce looked to his right.

At the mouth of an alley off the street, among the throng of passersby, a young man in a suit stood upright.

He raised his right hand, pressing his index finger to his lips in a gesture for silence.

Then, Shigure Ren took a step back.

The black suit merged into the sea of varied clothing, and he disappeared into the crowd.

“…”

Alice happened to step out of the shop just then. “What’s wrong?”

“I just happened to spot a classmate again.”

That wasn’t a lie.

Perhaps because he hadn’t lied, Alice’s intuition was not triggered this time.