By the way, that's a clever trick! Striking with a blade through a door. Since I can pass through walls with a sword at my hip, it stands to reason that I can also strike through thin barriers with it. Why didn't I think of this before? It's so simple!
Furthermore, judging by the gleam of the nodachi, she had activated "Shock Sword" at the moment of attack, which means she wasn't concerned about potentially killing anyone. It wasn't even an attack per se; she simply extended her blade and followed its path. Her foresight is undeniable. Plus, the blade struck at the level of an adult's head, so it wouldn't have harmed a child if they had been in the way.
The girl entered the apartment, poised to strike immediately. Her sword, far too large for such a confined space, is held close to the hilt. The jet-black hair is styled into a long, jagged bob that reaches her shoulders, and dark leather armor, consisting of overlapping segments, provides excellent protection while not obscuring her impressive physique. Wow, her slightly rounded and genuinely attractive face looks threatening right now. Yet, it suits her. What a spectral fury! And the male users on the BKDW forum are right: her natural hair color suits her far better than the bleached hair she sports in the physical world. Plus, the bob complements her cheekbones and cheeks quite well. All in all, I made the right choice in the forum vote. Why does she try to pass as a blonde with long hair in reality? Truly, I don't understand women.
"Allies," I extend my empty hands to greet the unexpected visitor.
"It's... you?" she corrects herself mid-sentence and addresses me formally.
She's taken aback. Very taken aback, almost shocked. It's clear that she absolutely didn't expect to see another raig here.
Something isn't right. Why isn't she lowering her sword but instead clutching the hilt so tightly that even the spectral fingers of her projection are turning pale?
Oh! I'm such an idiot... I take a half-step aside, allowing her to see the man lying on the floor and the girl sitting calmly on the bed, smiling as she tries to glimpse what is hidden from her.
"Everything's fine. The girl made the call under my supervision."
"My apologies... I... I..." She seems genuinely flustered now.
The Knight girl tries to simultaneously hide her sizable blade behind her back and bow.
"Hello, Maya," I had intended to say the clichéd "I'm glad to see you," but the "Word" counters this dishonesty.
"My respects, Maestro," she finally regains her composure, and her gaze settles on Yuki. "May I examine the girl?"
"Yuki," I respond, nodding. "Her name is Yuki. And yes, of course, feel free to greet her."
With another quick bow, she enters the room.
Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!!!
The girl reacted rather dramatically to the appearance of the raig. Her hands shot up, her eyes wide as saucers. But a second later, a brilliant, unfiltered childlike smile lights up her face. It's understandable: Maya is quite a media personality, and few people haven't seen her image. Especially here in Wilflaes, where she is the pride of the city, an open Break Knight, and a woman at that. An attractive woman, which certainly doesn't hurt her media appeal.
"I know you!" Yuki screamed. "You're Maya! A knight too!"
"Yes, I'm Maya," the raig nodded in response and took a seat next to her. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine!" The girl answered, rubbing her wrists where rope marks were visible.
Maya didn't miss this action and asked, "Yuki, may I take a look?"
The girl trustingly extended her hands. As soon as the Knight began her examination, Yuki launched into a chatter.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
To the child, Maya's attire might have seemed odd: camouflaged military-style trousers, high, tightly laced boots, and a dark lightweight jacket that was a couple of sizes too large, obscuring her figure.
"It's ugly!" Yuki wrinkled her nose. "Maestro is different! Wow! He has a cool suit, like the motorcycle guys around town! And a black helmet! So cool!" She slightly rolled her eyes for effect.
What a little performer she is! And she does it so well! I didn't expect that!
Before Maya could respond, the girl continued her chatter.
"Why did you dye your hair? It's black in the pictures. The change looks bad, black suits you much better," Yuki critiqued in the tone of a seasoned fashion expert.
Maya blushed like a beetroot. I couldn't contain my laughter. Maybe it was the tense situation, I don't know, but I found it hilarious how this little girl was lecturing a Break Knight. Though, no one heard me, which was probably for the best.
"I need to..." Maya attempted to interject.
But the little girl was on a roll.
"Bleaching is bad for you. It'll damage your hair. And the dark color suits your eyes so well. And those clothes, ugh..."
Recognizing that this chatter was Yuki's way of dealing with the stress, the Knight didn't interrupt her and continued to blush. She unclipped the walkie-talkie from her belt.
"R-one is on site. All clear. Cri... The bad guy is neutralized. Don't break down the door, I'll open it," she said into the device. Turning to the now silent Yuki, she added, "I'll open the door, don't be scared, the police are coming."
"Okay," the girl said obediently, though somewhat quietly.
Unlocking and slightly opening the door, Maya turned back to Yuki.
"I'm going to disappear for a bit..."
"Like Uncle Maestro?" the child interrupted her.
"Yes... Like Uncle Maestro."
"Okay." Crossing her arms over her chest and pouting, Yuki turned to the window. "You two go chat. I don't mind."
At first, Maya opened her mouth as if to explain, but then she realized the futility of it and simply slipped into the Break.
Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!!!
"She's pretty lively," I commented, nodding towards Yuki. "But that's probably a good thing. It seems she didn't comprehend the danger she was in. More accurately, she understood intellectually but didn't feel it. Don't pressure her."
"Yes," she agreed with me. "And thank you! I've been trying to track this guy down for three days. No clues, no trails."
"He was well-disguised," I responded with a nod. "Competent, professional makeup, excellent acting."
"Yet, you tracked him down..." I could almost hear her thoughts: "But I couldn't."
"No, it was a coincidence," I denied, shaking my head.
"A coincidence?"
"I was in the vicinity and felt something pulling me off course. At first, I couldn't figure out what was drawing me there. It took some time to comprehend. I was almost too late." I found myself increasingly frustrated with "Word." It made me painstakingly evaluate each sentence before speaking.
"Regardless, he's only got one path now, to the guillotine," she said, a bloodthirsty smile playing on her lips as she glanced sideways at the body on the floor. It was an unsettling sight. "Most importantly, the girl wasn't harmed."
"You're right, that was the primary concern," I agreed. The imminent execution of this vile man didn't bother me. The laws here condoned it, and I found myself agreeing. Individuals like him didn't deserve to walk the earth. "I've been waiting for the police."
My tone was neutral, but she correctly interpreted my intended message. Instead of tension, a smile spread across her face.
"This is the second one from the 'Board' for today," she boasted, a contented smile illuminating her face. She was charming. Not in a high-fashion or Hollywood-star kind of way, but her smile was so captivating you couldn't look away.
Hold on! She's a young girl, barely older than Izao! Then a treacherous voice deep inside whispered, "But I am Izao." Stop it! Get those thoughts out of your head! Kick them out!
"The second?" I inquired, needing clarity.
"I just turned in the first one. He was number four on the 'Board.'"
I vaguely remembered: a petty thief who had robbed the wrong people in an affluent neighborhood. He'd also assaulted a married couple with a bat. The bounty on this "number four" was even higher than on the rapist, primarily because he'd assaulted a local official. This world was different, but in this aspect, it was eerily similar to mine.
"I stumbled upon him while looking for this one," she continued her story. "I handed him over to the police, then I got this call. We can respond faster than the police."
She was right about that. A single raig could easily replace a squad of special forces, even if the latter were in a helicopter.
"Coincidences do happen," I replied, careful not to betray any doubt in my voice.
"I wish there were more of them!"
What did she mean by that? Was she actually pleased to see me? No, that couldn't be... She must be referring to the capture of this scum.
It seemed that Maya was being open and truthful. She was after the criminal I had located. That was all there was to it.
"I'll note in the report that you neutralized number two. The reward will be available tomorrow. You'll just need to sign a few forms," she told me.
"Maya, I don't want to deal with paperwork. So you log it, and we'll split it fifty-fifty," I suggested.
"I can't, it was you who..." she started to protest.
"Seventy-thirty," I countered, reducing her share.
"Eighty-twenty," she replied, smiling as she further decreased her cut from the deal.
"Eighty-twenty, and I don't sign or fill out anything."
"Deal!"
The clatter of heavy boots was getting close.
"I have to go. And Maya, be careful with your sword... I barely evaded it," I warned her.
"That's the recommendation... From the experts..." She dropped her gaze. "If there are hostages in the room, strike with 'shock' everyone, even through obstacles. They say a split second can make all the difference."
Maybe they were right. I wasn't an expert to make a definitive judgment on this matter.
"See you," I said, giving a brief bow before moving towards the window.
"I was glad to see you, Maestro," she responded, returning the bow.
I jumped onto the windowsill and swiftly passed through the glass, followed by a short descent.
Did I imagine it, or did she blush when she said she was glad to see me? Perhaps it was just my imagination. After all, the projection isn't a real body, and such nuances are hard to discern.
Landing in a dramatic pose, I slipped into a nonchalant stride. If Maya looked out the window, she shouldn't see any fuss or eagerness on my part to hide.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
After jogging straight for about two hundred meters, I abruptly turned onto another street, then again and again. Only then did I dive into one of the basements. An unpleasant traverse through underground passages, emerging back to the surface far from my previous location, and I began moving in a wide arc.
I returned home about forty minutes later after zigzagging through the city, not once detecting any signs of being followed.
I stripped off my clothes and wrapped my gloves in a plastic bag. I would need to dispose of them tomorrow, perhaps burn them. It was a shame; they were good gloves. But I could always buy new ones; the loss was trivial. My sneakers posed a bigger question: they were my regular walking shoes, yet I left a lot of traces with them. After pondering for a moment, I decided to put them aside for disposal as well. The same went for my shirt and pants. It was probably excessive, but as the saying goes, when you protect yourself, higher forces also protect you.
I took a brisk shower, lathering up with the most aromatic soap I had. Afterwards, I brewed some tea and, once settled on the windowsill with a hot mug, I allowed myself to relax and let my thoughts wander.
Firstly, "Purity," thank you. I'm relieved that I stopped that monster in time.
Secondly, "Purity," there's no need to signal so excruciatingly. I nearly perished from the agony.
Thirdly... well, it doesn't matter if I list these in an orderly fashion. The primary take-away is this: I did everything right. It might not have been the most logical or secretive approach, but I acted correctly - as a decent person. This is a good thing; it means I haven't completely slipped into social phobia and isolation yet. Once I accepted this premise, I could think about the rest, but only through the lens of this conclusion.
"Purity's" behavior is what puzzles me the most. Not the pain that the blade inflicted - I've grown accustomed to that, even though it was never this intense before. What I'm pondering is different. How did the wakizashi identify the rapist? Was the sword constantly scanning its surroundings? I hadn't observed that before. Was it foresight? A sense of threat? No, that doesn't seem right either. I'm looking in the wrong direction. Everything is simpler, much simpler - I can't shake this intuition.
Had I seen this couple on the tram before "Purity" demanded to intervene? I think so... Yes! I had seen them but hadn't paid them any mind. It was only after I caught sight of them that the sword acted oddly. Is it possible that I subconsciously recognized the rapist despite his disguise? My mind was preoccupied with other thoughts, so I might have overlooked him consciously. There's a chance of this, and it's not a slim one. Moreover, such a theory explains everything without introducing extra assumptions about the capabilities of swords and "Purity" in particular. It really does make sense: I saw him but didn't comprehend who I saw. However, my subconscious processed the information, and "Purity" immediately responded in its typical manner. I'll put a pin in this issue with the annotation "plausible explanation found; revisit only when new information is available."
Next, did I do the right thing by not killing that monster on the spot? Considering what I know about the local judicial system from Izao's memory, yes - that decision was justified. Besides, it's uncertain how the sight of a corpse might have affected Yuki's state of mind. I couldn't lie to her that the dead wretch was supposedly still alive because of the "Word."
Moving on to my revelation to the girl, with an unveiled face, in ordinary clothes, it was certainly a breach in the secrecy I'd been maintaining. More than a breach, it was a gaping void. Yes, indeed it was. But should I have done things differently? I could have left the girl tied up and called the police from any vacant apartment nearby. From a simplistic logical standpoint, this would have been easy to execute. Also, nothing stopped me from masking my face with a cloth. All this is understandable and somewhat reasonable... if I were only considering myself. Of course, I do have a degree of cynicism, but it's moderate. If there had been an adult in Yuki's place, I probably would have taken the aforementioned route. But she is a child, and... As a result of my actions, the girl was spared the psychological trauma that could have shattered her entire life. Yes, I revealed my face, but it was worth it.
Now I'll consider the consequences of my actions. Yuki, unexpectedly, played out the scene describing my appearance perfectly, just as I asked her to. Will they interrogate her more thoroughly? Possibly. But upon hearing that I was in a disguise already known to all interested parties, would they delve further? What would be the point? Tu Chong, the overseer of BKDW, personally saw my motorcycle suit. What's the point of investigating "already known" details, especially from such an unreliable witness due to her age? Yuki will most likely hold her ground unless someone employs medical methods on her or involves a high-ranking sensum. No, that's paranoia at its finest. Nobody would do such a thing. This world hasn't yet forgotten the concept of honor. Yes, even if such a notion crossed someone's mind, Maya is still watching over Yuki, I'm certain of it. Judging by the way the Knight girl looked at the child - I'm confident she'll be around for a while. And I pity anyone who tries to drug Yuki... Rest in peace, they will.
Overall, barring any conspiracy theories, everything went smoothly. Relatively speaking. I just need to discard my clothes.
My thoughts drift further. Maya's arrival. Her story... On one hand, there are too many coincidences. On the other, she provided explanations for everything, leaving no room for doubts. Applying Occam's Razor principle, I won't conjure unnecessary complications. Moreover, the girl isn't one to blatantly lie. Additionally, our meeting seemed to surprise her even more than it did me. Such shock and bewilderment can't be feigned unless you're a seasoned actor with years of experience. In general, I'll accept her words as truth until evidence suggesting otherwise appears. Furthermore, it's easy to check whether the criminal at number four has been removed from the "Board." Lying about that would be senseless.
Reflecting on my conversation with her, it appears I didn't make any blunders or disclose any unnecessary information. I even gleaned something intriguing. It turns out that specific instructions are prepared for BKDW members, and perhaps even training for the Knights. This, by the way, is a significant advantage and a compelling reason to join their ranks. But of course, I won't do that.
Among the positives: not only did I save a child, but I also earned a hefty sum. Moreover, Maya will handle all the paperwork, and my signature won't appear on any documents for examination. Is it worth losing twenty percent of the reward? Absolutely "yes." I was prepared to part with half the amount for this! Additionally, my rapport with the girl has undoubtedly improved. A shared mission, albeit a minor one, brings people closer.
One thing that concerns me about this encounter is my reaction to Maya. No, I understand everything, young body and all, but... No, I must not dwell on this! What nonsense... I need to visit the local equivalent of the Red Light District. The projection, of course, clears the brain - the spectral being seems to lack hormones, but... Damn, don't think about it!!
Moreover, if during the Break, when we first met, this attraction merely flickered, now my imagination is truly aflame, with the full force of youthful exuberance combined with adult experience. It's frightening to even close my eyes: such scenes immediately surface that, oh... Moreover, Maya is not only attractive in her face. In the Break, her figure wasn't hidden by oversized clothes, allowing me to fully appreciate it. And this Knight girl's figure is simply stunning. I yearn to take her by the hand and nestle up to...
Whoa!!! Cool your jets!
She's only seventeen, you old geezer!
On the other hand, I'm not supposed to flirt with forty-year-old women either, am I? My body is just as young as hers. So it will be perceived as... Exactly, they'll label me as a pervert.
Indeed, the matter of women is complex. Truthfully, I don't know how to handle it. Unless I turn to prostitutes, as the thought flickered earlier, but I have never stooped to that, even during the longest business trips.
Yet, I also don't desire to become a forty-year-old virgin.
Relax.
Breathe deeply.
Don't retreat into the Break - that's only a temporary solution.
Get a grip.
Am I a man or an animal unable to control his desires?
The problem is that I'm an adult man who perfectly understands and imagines everything, unlike Izao, who only kissed once - and that was back in kindergarten. He did hold hands with a girl in high school. However, it didn't last long. She quickly ditched the unpopular introvert when a better alternative emerged.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
I visualized the girl in her physical form: a bottle blonde with disheveled hair, wearing comically selected clothes as tasteless as possible. Good, I feel slightly better now...
By a bit, but it did help.
Springing from the windowsill, I tossed the empty mug into the sink and grabbed a stick.
Circle, strike, strike!
Block, counterattack, recoil.
Circle, step, combo.
Strike, strike, block...
Empty all thoughts from your mind. There's only training, only motion - only these make sense.
Link, transition, strike.
Circle, block, thrust.
Dodge, thrust, block.
Block, care, cascade...
I repeated and repeated, over and over again, deliberately not shifting to the Break to recover.
Recoil, cascade, block.
Circle, lunge, step over.
Strike, lunge, block.
Combo, circle, lunge...
I pushed myself until my knees trembled and my hands ached. Until the mop handle became almost unbearable. But I kept going:
Block, block, counterattack.
Circle, lunge, low guard.
Strike, circle, escape.
Dodge, block, lunge...
I don't know how long this went on. I only stopped when my hands could no longer hold the stick, and my legs refused to stand. Then, I simply collapsed on the bed, utterly exhausted, beyond my limits, with not a single thought in my head, which was my objective all along.
I believe I passed out even before my head hit the pillow.