Division 3. I

Part of the training that Shinpei Yamamoto subjected us to involved accompanying each of our colleagues on a different case. He called it the “Team Adjustment Missions for the Contagion Investigators at Division 3 Aimed at Strengthening Bonds and Getting to Know One Another,” or “TAMCID3ASBGKOA,” which was, in my most humble opinion, quite a long name for a mission...

“You’re saying it wrong…” Katy insisted as she sanitized her hands with gel. She was sitting to my right in the back seat of the car.

“I’m telling you, I’m not,” I replied.

Felix Bagel, who was driving, didn’t quite know how to calm us down, so he simply gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring ahead while smiling through his blond beard.

“It’s clear you weren’t paying attention during the briefings. Shinpei specifically said the acronym was ‘TAMCIASBGKOA,’ not ‘TAMCID3ASBGKOA.’ At no point did he say the ‘D3’ was included,” the model student insisted.

“What do you mean? Obviously, the ‘D3’ has to be included! If we didn’t say ‘D3’ in ‘TAMCID3ASBGKOA,’ how would we know it’s a mission for Division 3?”

“Easy, easy…” Felix chuckled as the argument heated up.

“Don’t be simplistic, Isayama. Haven’t you ever heard of the economy of language? To avoid confusion and unnecessary effort, it’s crucial to simplify terms and eliminate redundancies in communication.” She crossed her arms, turning to stare out the window.

“Economy of language?! You think it’s normal for the mission’s name to be ‘TAMCID3ASBGKOA’?!” I protested as we navigated the city’s different streets. Felix, deep in thought as he drove, begged the heavens for us not to argue all day.

...

Despite Felix’s jokes and his easygoing attitude, both Katy and I felt immense pressure, each in our own way.

It’s my first time venturing this deep into one of these neighborhoods…

The farther we drove, the more the city shifted. Glass towers gave way to crumbling buildings, their walls scarred by graffiti like angry cries frozen in time. Trash spilled from rusted bins onto cracked streets, where surveillance drones buzzed overhead, mechanical vultures scanning for infections.

Unlike me, Katy kept her tension internal, still unable to forget what had happened a few days ago. I simply watched as she stared out her own window, her gaze lost in the distance.

It’s so hard to talk to her unless it’s about work… How on earth are we supposed to get along…?

I averted my look the moment her golden eyes met mine. Impassive, she barely reacted, lifting a single eyebrow slightly before turning back to the crystal.

“Don’t be so tense,” Felix said, steering carefully past an old woman pushing a cart piled high with scrap metal. “Shinpei told me about your first case, but things like that don’t usually happen.”

“I know. It’s just… my first time here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the grannies.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I muttered, but his easy laughter defused some of my nerves.

The outskirts districts were much more impoverished than the central areas. They weren’t particularly dangerous, but their lack of resources was a problem. That had been exacerbated by the city’s rapid technological advances and the associated costs.

These factors set these areas back decades.

Without the latest prevention and detection measures for the S-Flu, infections were more common—especially considering how residents had to scrape by to make ends meet. Clandestine businesses + outdated viral control = more infections and issues. A snowball effect.

…

Even so, Felix was right: the rest of the case was smooth sailing.

Soon, Katy and I returned to that infernal dark room and its camera.

“T-the patient was able to receive the n-necessary implant thanks to government support from the Metropolitan Social Resource Fund of 2308.” I read nervously from the paper in front of the camera.

That time, I’d written it myself.

Focus, Isayama Tore!

“T-this concludes the report for case number seven-twenty-six, on April seventh…” Katy added to wrap things up.

I stopped the recording immediately.

Both of us sighed in relief in the dimly lit room.

“Good job…” I spoke. “Wait… We forgot to say the year!”

At the same time, in the distance, Shinpei began brewing coffee with his colossal machine, making the entire building rumble once again.