A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the Sacred Residence.

  When Haruki Aizawa arrived, he found the high-ranking officials and staff in a state of absolute disarray. The news of Aldebaran’s impending arrival had shattered the st remnants of their composure.

  Since arriving in this world, Haruki had been quietly gathering intelligence on Aldebaran. He knew his System mission depended on it, so he had focused his resources on tracking this specific threat. As his IP Ranking climbed into the top 100, he gained access to top-tier dossiers, and the truth about Aldebaran was chilling.

  Aldebaran was a Stage IV Gastrea, but it was cssified as being in "infinite proximity" to Stage V. Its most terrifying trait was its ability to ignore the suppressive effects of Varanium. In fact, it could produce a specialized corrosive acid that "bleached" Monoliths, turning the bck metal into brittle, white chalk that crumbled under the slightest pressure.

  If the Monoliths fell, the hundreds of thousands of Gastrea waiting in the wastend would pour into Tokyo like a tidal wave.

  The Tokyo Government had issued a Level 1 Emergency. Every soldier and Civil Security officer was being mobilized for a final stand. As the strongest Promoter in the region, Haruki was the center of everyone's attention.

  "Seitenshi-sama, let me confirm the timeline," Haruki said, standing before her in the war room. "Aldebaran arrives in six days to destroy the Monoliths. Is that correct?"

  "Yes," the Seitenshi replied, showing him satellite photos. The edges of the massive Monoliths were already showing signs of "albinism"—turning a sickly white as they dissolved.

  "The Self-Defense Forces are organizing a primary intercept line," she continued, her voice heavy with the weight of her responsibility. "But we need a specialized Civil Security Corps to act as the hammer. If the military line breaks, it will fall to you, Haruki-san, to lead the Promoters in a final strike against Aldebaran."

  "You want me to lead them?" Haruki narrowed his eyes. He was confident in his own bde, but he wasn't a general. Leading a bunch of egotistical, half-mad Promoters sounded like a headache.

  "In the eyes of the w, a Rank 100 Promoter holds a status equivalent to a high-ranking military officer," she expined. "I am granting you the title of Corps Commander. Every registered Civil Security officer in Tokyo will fall under your command."

  "Fine," Haruki grunted. He figured he could just let Kayo Senju handle the actual strategy. With her 210 IQ, she could run circles around a military board.

  "The 'albinism' of the Monoliths will be visible to the public in a few days," the Seitenshi added. "Under Aldebaran’s command, nearly two thousand Gastrea have already gathered in the buffer zone. If the barrier falls, that number will explode into the hundreds of thousands. It will be the end of our race."

  Haruki accepted the commission and headed straight to the IISO to meet his "troops."

  When Haruki arrived at the IISO headquarters, the lobby was packed with Promoters. Some faces were familiar—Shougen Ikuma stood like a mountain in the corner, and Rentaro Satomi was looking pale and sickly near the back.

  The tension was thick. These were men and women who fought monsters for a living, but they weren't used to an actual war. Many were wavering.

  "Is this a joke?" Rentaro stammered, his voice loud enough to draw attention. "How can a Gastrea destroy a Monolith? And us? We're solo hunters, not a private army! We aren't built for a meat grinder like this!"

  His cowardice was contagious. Several other Promoters began nodding, whispering about how they should just take their families and flee to the underground shelters.

  Haruki stood in the center of the room. He didn't look at Rentaro; he looked at everyone.

  "Are you scared?" Haruki’s voice was a low, chilling rumble that cut through the murmurs.

  "I’m just being realistic!" Rentaro snapped, his eyes wide. "This isn't our job!"

  The Promoters looked at Haruki, expecting a motivational speech or perhaps a plea for heroism. Many hoped he would agree with them so they could leave with their dignity intact.

  "I see," Haruki said ftly. "Then you're free to leave."

  The room exhaled. Some people actually turned toward the door, relief washing over their faces.

  "However," Haruki added, his hand resting on the hilt of his greatsword. "Let me be very clear. If anyone leaves this room today, and I see your face when the battle begins... I will personally cut you down as a deserter. If you aren't on my side of the line, you're an enemy. And I kill my enemies."

  The room froze. A sudden, violent surge of killing intent erupted from Haruki, so sharp it felt like a physical bde at everyone's throat.

  "You... you can't be serious," Rentaro gasped, unable to move.

  "You aren't independent hunters anymore," Haruki said, his eyes glowing with a dark, violet hue behind his mask. "You are soldiers. And in a war, the penalty for desertion is death. Choose your path now. Go home and wait for me to find you, or stay and fight the monsters."

  Not a single person moved toward the exit. They realized that between the Gastrea and the "Sword Ghost," the Gastrea might actually be the more merciful option.

  Haruki used fear to hold the line. He knew it wasn't the most noble way to lead, but he didn't care. He had no patience for "hearts and minds" when a world-ending event was six days away. He would py the "bad cop," and when the time came for tactics, he would let Kayo be the "voice of reason."

  While the city prepared for war, Haruki’s apartment remained a small isnd of retive peace.

  "Haruki-san, it’s almost ready!" Tina Sprout called out from the kitchen.

  Since Haruki was a total disaster when it came to food, the two girls had taken it upon themselves to keep him fed. Kayo, despite her tiny stature, had been researching the chemistry of cooking, while Tina provided the manual bor that Kayo’s small frame struggled with.

  Sizzle! Pop!

  Haruki sat at the table, chin in his hand, watching the steam rise from the kitchen. A few minutes ter, the two girls emerged carrying a massive, golden-brown pizza. It was topped with Italian sausage and mushrooms, the cheese bubbling and aromatic.

  "We made it from scratch," Kayo said, her eyes gleaming with pride.

  Haruki took a bite. He didn't hold back his praise. "It's excellent. Honestly, better than anything I've had in a long time."

  The two girls cheered, high-fiving each other. For a moment, it felt like a normal family dinner. But the illusion was shattered when the television in the corner flickered to a breaking news report.

  The headline was written in bold, aggressive characters: "THE CRIME OF THE CURSED CHILDREN: ANTI-GASTREA ACTIVIST MURDERED BY SLUM GANG!"

  The girls’ expressions went cold. The reporter on screen was standing in a park, describing a brutal attack on a leader of the protesters who were fighting against the Seitenshi’s new civil rights ws. The witness reports, likely fabricated or exaggerated, cimed a group of "red-eyed monsters" had torn the man apart.

  Haruki watched the reporter’s face—she was professional, using polite honorifics, but every word was a poison-tipped needle designed to incite the public’s hatred.

  Tina and Kayo looked down at their ptes, the joy of their cooking success repced by the heavy, familiar weight of their "curse."

  Haruki’s expression turned into a mask of pure, icy indifference. He realized that the rot in Tokyo was deeper than a single monster. Even if he killed Aldebaran, the city itself was eating its own soul. The political forces—likely led by Kikunojo Tendo—were using this murder to whip the public into a frenzy, ensuring that when the war started, no one would care if the Cursed Children died on the front lines.

  "Eat," Haruki said quietly, breaking the silence. "Don't let the noise of the trash ruin your meal. I’ll handle the world. You just handle the kitchen."

  ***********************************************

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