ch41-ch60 · 048-inter7

Interlude: Some Reactions to Her Treatment (Selected Examples)

Case of a Certain Country A.

"A visitor from another world."

The man regarded as the most powerful in that country puffed on a cigar, its purple smoke curling as he looked over photographs and intelligence passed from the Japanese government.

"To think another world actually existed, and elves were real..."

He looked at the woman in the photo with an air of superiority, crunching numbers in his head.

How much of the new technology called magitech could they monopolize.

How much of the vast, untapped frontier known as another world could they claim.

If she was a long-lived species like in the stories, her very body would be an immense asset.

"What shall we do?"

The vice minister who had provided the intelligence awaited orders.

"Nothing much. She's in a friendly nation. Have her brought to our country — courteously. Courteously, mind you."

Translated, those words meant "bring her here no matter what."

But "courteously." That word meant "no military abduction. Send intelligence agents and bring her back by any means necessary."

There were countless ways to go about it.

An information mix-up could happen to occur — that excuse would work for taking her by force. Or a fire could coincidentally break out, and she could be rescued on humanitarian grounds. Either would do.

Literally, by any means necessary, they would bring her to this country.

Above all, with magic now in play, there were methods using that as well.

There was no shortage of methods.

Thus, from across the ocean, a certain Country A laid a net around Hexaria.

To give the conclusion first.

The intelligence agents couldn't pull it off.

When the intelligence team arrived near the target's base of operations, they felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

"Leader, I've got a bad feeling about this op."

"I'd like to say you're just getting cold feet... but I'm also feeling like we shouldn't go any further."

"D-Don't be ridiculous! No matter what she is, she's still just a woman. We don't know her combat capability, but with my magic, I can bring her in instantly."

This team was composed of the intelligence bureau's top mental magic specialists.

A team that had trained primarily in mental magic within one of their country's own dungeons.

Once caught in their spells, the target would come crawling to them of their own accord.

Just another simple job, like always.

This time, the orders from above were simply to "bring her back."

Before that, a little enjoyment would be permitted.

A beauty of that caliber. Simply handing her over would be a waste.

That was what they were thinking as they headed toward the target location — and then it happened.

First, one of the men on the team suddenly vanished.

Literally — disappeared right before their eyes.

"Hey! What happened!?"

The leader shouted, his voice laced with fear.

The vanished man had simply been sent to a distant mountain by a teleportation trap.

There was a certain kindness in that — at least he hadn't been dropped into the middle of the ocean or a sealed room deep underground.

Besides, a certain Country A must have dungeons of its own.

Apparently, they couldn't even figure out that this was a teleportation trap.

Another man charged forward to carry out the operation.

His aim was to move swiftly and subjugate the target with mental magic.

But midway there, he suddenly... went mad.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHA!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

The man came running toward the leader.

"H-Hey! What's wrong!? What happened to you!?"

This man was always calm and collected. No matter the situation, he carried out his work with cool precision.

And now, he was laughing.

His eyes were unfocused.

Even the leader seemed to realize what had been done.

Precisely because they were a team specializing in mental magic, he understood that mental magic had been used on them — without them even noticing.

"Son of a bitch! Don't tell me the target uses mental magic too!!?"

He shouted that and scanned his surroundings — and the next moment.

The target — the elf — was standing right behind him.

She had removed the glasses she'd been wearing in the photos.

Several days later.

A member of the intelligence bureau appeared before the man regarded as the most powerful in the country.

It was one of the team members who had been tasked with "inviting" the elf.

With a sharp, composed expression — for some reason, he was now standing right here.

Without going through the vice minister. Alone, for some reason.

But such things were trivial.

All the great man cared about was hearing the report he'd asked for.

"Hmm. So your team secured the invitation. Where is she now..."

The very next moment after he said that.

The team member pulled out a handgun concealed at his chest and fired several shots.

A handgun, complete with a silencer, no less.

He deliberately aimed around the most powerful man — making it clear the shots were intentionally missing.

"W-What do you think you're doing!?"

The great man was shocked by the sudden act of violence.

"No interference with that person shall be permitted. This is a warning. There will not be a next time."

The man's eyes were clear.

On this day, a major incident occurred in a certain Country A.

Of all things — attempted murder by a member of the intelligence bureau.

But it never made the news. It was settled quietly within the government.

And from then on, deliberations regarding their response to the elf would be conducted with the utmost caution.

◇

Case of a Certain Country B.

"This millennium shall become a great gospel."

These were said to be the words spoken by the head of a certain religious organization while dungeons were appearing worldwide and causing massive chaos.

A dungeon is a terrifying place infested with monsters.

What one saw and obtained there included many things that science couldn't explain.

They also bestowed blessings upon people in the form of Skills and magic.

After the year 2000, just as science was on the verge of explaining all phenomena, mystery had been restored to power.

The public's confusion was inevitable.

And so, for the sake of believers seeking salvation, these were the words the religious figure conveyed.

Certainly, dungeons were terrifying places.

But they would be a great trial — and a gospel — for the next millennium.

The believers accepted those words.

Now then. About a quarter century had passed since that millennium.

At this timing, a visitor from another world had appeared in the Far East.

The visitor was apparently of a race called High Elf.

The religious leaders had grasped this information during a meeting.

A dubious existence — a visitor from another world.

The meeting had been heated, but the head's opinion was this.

"Members of the Special Bureau. Step forward."

"Yes, sir!"

"Investigate. If she is a devil, execute her."

Their organization had members tasked with exterminating evil beings called devils — known as demons in Japan.

The Special Bureau Devil Extermination Agency. Codenamed "Ash Order."

In the Western world, the threat of devils was a significant problem.

For now, thanks to the Ash Order's efforts, the devils' atrocities hadn't become public knowledge. But the situation was hanging by a thread.

And yet, at a time like this — a High Elf.

It would be fine if she truly was a visitor from another world.

But if a devil was in disguise...

It would become an enormous problem.

At this point, one man spoke up.

"Hold on."

This man never spoke at meetings, held no standing — he was a man from the Far East.

"You're the one dispatched from... Taimaren in the Far East, aren't you."

"I have information regarding her. She is unquestionably from another world."

"Oh..."

"The Ichijō family and the Exorcist Alliance have already made contact with her."

"Ichijō, you say. Tell me more..."

Western devil-hunting and Eastern demon extermination.

Both were organizations dedicated to destroying evil beings, so they exchanged personnel and shared intelligence to strengthen each other.

This Far Eastern man had been given a seat in a corner of the religious organization for intelligence exchange purposes. Since he wasn't a believer, he had no standing and was essentially there only to listen.

But the matter of the High Elf — Hexaria — involved Japan's Ichijō family and the Exorcist Alliance, which was why he had offered his input.

The religious leaders' meeting went on for a long time, but the final conclusion was: "The Ichijō family is involved as well, so we'll watch and wait for now. However, we will dispatch the Ash Order depending on the situation."

The Far Eastern man had been briefed through reports about what kind of woman Hexaria was.

During the first contact — the meeting at the Ichijō residence — Sakuraba with the Mana Eye had picked a fight with her and suffered terribly for it.

If they did something careless, there was no telling what would happen...

Somehow managing to resolve the issue before it escalated, the Far Eastern man let out a long breath of relief.

◇

Case of a Certain Weekly Magazine Staffer C.

Day and night, he chased scoops. If it sold, he didn't mind a little misinformation.

Even if that scoop ended up in court, he didn't care.

Because it would generate even more sales — profit — than the lawsuit would cost.

He was a veteran editor who had been with an aggressive weekly magazine for nearly ten years.

Now then. He was currently chasing several stories.

Celebrity and politician scandals were evergreen material — he used multiple channels for fact-checking. Once the article was prepped, fans and bystanders would whip themselves into a frenzy on their own.

Self-righteous crusaders always wanted someone to tear down — from his perspective, they were a godsend.

The more the outrage flared, the more copies sold.

Of course, celebrities and politicians weren't the only stories he handled.

The High Elf currently making waves worldwide was apparently staying at a certain middle-aged adventurer's house.

He wanted to dig into what kind of relationship they had. He wanted an interview, too.

Why was a High Elf from another world together with that adventurer?

He had a mountain of questions.

On top of that, the High Elf's looks were extraordinary.

If he could negotiate a gravure spread, he'd definitely want several photos of that, too.

That was what he'd been thinking, but his plans weren't going well.

Something downright bizarre was happening.

First, the editor had dispatched his personal stable of writers and photographers to investigate — and the results were disastrous.

The editorial office.

He grumbled in front of the PC on his desk.

"What the hell is this. None of these photos are usable..."

Every photo the photographer had taken was covered in mysterious shadows.

According to the photographer, he had shot from a distance with a telephoto lens from a location with nothing around — yet every single photo was marred by strange shadows. Everything except the sky looked like it had been painted over.

Curious, he tried analyzing the photos but couldn't figure anything out.

They looked like ectoplasm or orbs from ghost photographs.

This was a completely different kind of scoop.

An occult magazine might be thrilled to have them, though.

Also, the photographer had tripped and fallen after taking those photos. The impact must have been bad — he was currently receiving outpatient treatment for his injuries.

Combined with the photos, that would make one article as a combo piece — if it were an occult magazine.

Looking at it from that angle, there was an amusing coincidence — one of the writers who had been snooping around the adventurer's home had been bedridden for three days and nights with a mysterious fever, plagued by nightmares and auditory hallucinations.

According to the writer: "I'm done! Every time I go near that place, my legs literally get heavier!"

To the editor, it all seemed ridiculous.

The occult certainly existed. At least since Shinjuku Tower's appearance, it had become more real. That much was undeniable. There were even monsters called ghosts inside Shinjuku Tower.

He'd never seen one outside Shinjuku Tower, but they probably existed in reality.

And yet, the editor — who should have been cursed a thousand times over — was still going strong. Even after receiving letters saying "I'll curse you," he'd continued living his life in perfect health.

In other words.

The writer's claims were probably just "a momentary lapse of nerve."

But... if that was the case, then.

How about turning this whole situation into an article instead?

Both the photographer and the writer had become useless.

He might as well digest it as an article.

The angle: "Approaching the High Elf brings curses upon you."

A bit occult-ish, but it could make for an interesting article.

He'd put the article together for next week or the week after.

Just as he was thinking that, he got called in by the editor-in-chief.

In the conference room he was summoned to, the editor-in-chief and the administrative department head were waiting.

A rather odd combination.

On top of that, both of them looked pale.

The editor sat down and spoke to the editor-in-chief.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Did something happen?"

Looking closely, the editor-in-chief's face seemed to show fear.

What on earth could have happened?

"You've been chasing the High Elf story, haven't you."

"Yes, actually I was just—"

"Drop it. Immediately. Tell your people too."

Before the editor could finish saying "I was just about to put the article together," the editor-in-chief had spoken right over him.

Seeing the editor-in-chief this rattled was unusual.

"Huh? Well, if you say so..."

If the editor-in-chief put an NG on a story, it couldn't run. So of course he'd stop.

Articles sometimes got killed by contacts the editor-in-chief was close with. Being told "drop it" was something he was used to.

There were topics in this world you simply didn't touch.

The editor, who could reasonably be called a veteran, was well-versed in such matters. He took it in stride. For better or worse, it was familiar territory.

Still, this was unusual.

The two people sitting in front of him were still trembling.

The administrative department head spoke, seemingly to someone.

"Is this satisfactory?"

"Yes, of course."

That voice came from somewhere.

"Then we'll be taking our leave..."

The editor-in-chief quickly left the conference room.

"Y-You. Hear what he has to say."

The administrative department head said only that before leaving the room as well.

"Him... wait, what?"

There should have only been three people in the conference room.

The editor, the editor-in-chief, and the administrative department head.

There was no one else...

Glancing around the conference room, he found a man in a suit standing in the corner.

"————!!!?"

A silent scream escaped the editor's throat.

How long had he been there?

At the very least, the editor hadn't noticed him at all.

Even though he was right there in front of him!

"Excuse me. I'm with the Exorcist Alliance. I'd like to discuss the story you're currently pursuing..."

The man who identified himself as being with the Exorcist Alliance spoke to the editor with a pleasant smile.

The Exorcist Alliance.

For people in this line of work, they were untouchable.

If you were in the industry, you knew the name — but they were an existence that must never be brought to light.

An organization belonging to Japan's shadow side, something you didn't poke carelessly. That was the Exorcist Alliance.

And a member of that organization was standing right in front of the editor.

That was when the editor realized.

He had stepped into territory he should never have set foot in.

"M-May I at least explain myself..."

"That won't be necessary."

The man from the Exorcist Alliance never lost his smile.

What followed.

The weekly magazine banned all coverage of the High Elf.

And the editor entered a long leave of absence.

...Let us not ask why.

================

Thank you for reading.