Chapter 29: The Anti-Gun Front

The Explorers Guild was especially filled with a lot of chatter on this particular day as Meisatsu strutted across the Guild hall clad in The Dark night.

His display drew several, not so subtle, eyes. Each face showed either confusion or impressed admiration. 

He approached the desk, grinning confidently. “So, any quests I can take, Akane?”

The question was answered with a crooked smile and a silent head shake.

“Oh, I see…” Dropping his forced Hero persona, he added plainly , “Seriously…I’m so bored…”

Akane seemed to perk up a little at the sound of his usual carefree tone. “Then why take a stroll around town? Someone might want to give the Hero a private quest.”

She leaned on the desk, eyeing Meisatsu, and he shyly averted his gaze as she did. “That’s armor you don’t see every day, hm?”

“It’s more like a suit, but I guess it does act like armor…”

“Someone’s down!” The panicked scream from a male Explorer, rang across the hall.

He carried a member of his party—a young woman—in his arms, bleeding heavily.

“Please excuse me, Meisatsu.” She quickly rose, then ordered, “Take her to the infirmary!”

They hurried down a corridor at the back of the hall.

I hope she turns out okay… Meisatsu thought, watching them leave.

The Guild doors creaked open lightly, creating just enough space for a small person to slip through.

It was Lysa. Determination shone in her eyes as she scurried toward Meisatsu. Her strides were short, and the priestly robe clinging to her legs didn’t help.

The robe was all white and continuous, with silver strips tracing the long bell-shaped sleeves and the edge of the hood over her head, from which wavy blond locks escaped.

Now standing firmly—fidgeting every now and then—in front of Meisatsu, her dazzling clear blue eyes looked up at him. “Um, so… I would… L-like to um…”

Her legs shivered timidly beneath her robe.

Meisatsu’s face stiffened—almost stone-like—as he pondered, Did she say like?! Like… Like-Like?!! Is this a confession?!!!

He sneaked a quick glance at her. She fidgeted with her fingertips, swaying bashfully as she stuttered, “I would um… R-really like to j-join…”

She really likes me?! Meisatsu thought, his heart racing. Wow! My first real confession!

“So c-can I…”

Yes…

“J-join y-your…”

Come on! Out with it!!

“Hey Lysa, we need you!” Akane called, peeking from the corridor that lead to the infirmary.

“S-sorry!” With a quick—but extremely humble—bow she scurried off.

Sigh… His body practically deflated as he exited the Guild. Nice while it lasted…

Meisatsu cleared his mind, thinking back to how he had ended up utterly bored in the first place. His thoughts drifted to the previous day…

Dinner had been an elaborate affair. Steam rose from several dishes lining the table, all filled with Leina’s cooking.

From bowls that looked a lot like traditional ramen to a giant golden-brown turkey—once a very colorful bird—at the center of the table, he stuffed himself without hesitation.

Simuru rolled away, inconspicuously, toward Meisatsu’s room.

“So, Ayame, that boy from before? The one with the Magi-Mobile?” Leina asked with a coy smile. Her eyes seemed to smile as well. “How are things going with him?”

Ragan choked on a spoonful, remembering the boy Meisatsu had raced earlier. “That’s right! Anything new?!”

As the plates rattling under his voice finally ceased, Ayame asked with a clueless expression, “Who?”

Meisatsu, in a perfect mirror of Ragan, choked on his own spoon.

Both parents exchanged bewildered looks before turning to Ayame again.

“The one Meisatsu raced today—!”

The sudden clatter of Ayame’s spoon hitting her empty plate startled Leina, who then stood. “Thanks for the meal!”

Watching her head to her room, the parents shared a single thought, A lover’s quarrel?!!

Meisatsu tapped his full stomach and proceeded toward his room at a leisurely pace. A nagging feeling started creeping up—he was forgetting something important.

Then he ran into Ayame, leaning against the corridor wall.

Ah! The reward!!! With an uncomfortable half-smile, he continued toward his room.

“So…” Ayame spoke just as he grabbed the doorknob. “You were pretty cool during the race…”

“Y-you think so?” He rubbed the back of his head, chuckling nervously. How do I get out of this?!

Ayame’s heart pounded as she stepped closer, and Meisatsu instinctively pushed back against the the door, as if he could climb it.

“Y-you remember the reward, right…?” she whispered in his ear. He nodded, his forehead damp with sweat.

She puckered her lips, followed by a quick peck on the cheek, and she backed away.

Then, faster than Meisatsu could say Glock 17 Gen 5, she bolted down the corridor and slammed her door behind her.

Meisatsu’s mouth parted, then it closed, before he silently retreated to his room. Joining Simuru who had already settled into his bed, he drifted of to sleep.

I k-kissed Satsu!!! Ayame thought, giddily, burrying her face—red as a tomato—into her pillow. Kufufufu!

She had been holed up in her room ever since.

✦✦✦

Meisatsu sighed as he ambled through a busy road in town, countless people rushing to their destinations and casting glances at him.

He hadn’t realized he was still wearing The Dark Night, which stood out sharply among the common folk—or any folk, for that matter…

His movements halted when a tune, reminiscent of a morning news theme, rang out. The crowd gradually slowed as all eyes tilted upward..

“Good Morning, Asturia!” A loud yet firm male voice echoed from the multiple blue projections hovering above, filling the sky as far as the eye could see.

It was this world’s equivalent of the morning news…

Meisatsu usually ignored these broadcasts, but today, a gut feeling told him to pay attention.

Tilting his gaze upward, he saw the presenter—rectangular glasses perched on his face, black hair neatly divided down the middle.

“In breaking news—the King has declared the sentence of certain criminals apprehended by the Hero in Beetho.”

The display shifted, zooming in like a camera lens, showing the criminals in question.

“Gaspard Kitsuneda and Pierre Ito shall be sentenced to fifteen years in prison for attempting to overthrow the kingdom!”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“Isn’t that the guy who used to sell wine?”

“And the other one had a bakery… I always thought he was crazy.”

Despite his anger toward Gaspard, Meisatsu felt his heart sink a little at the thought of their sentence. Then he remembered—

Akira?!

As if on cue, the host continued, “And the son of Gaspard Kitsuneda—Akira Kitsuneda—shall be sentenced to one year in prison!”

From what Meisatsu could vaguely recall, Akira had been thirteen while he was ten—though smaller than him physically.

He should be around Ayame’s age, he thought. Maybe that’s why his sentence was reduced…

Feeling relieved, he exhaled and kept watching the broadcast.

“In other news, the two brave Knights of Asturia silenced a monster discovered at the capital earlier this morning, greatly pleasing our King.”

The projection zoomed in on the person seated upon the throne. A silver crown rested on flawless features, green eyes sparkling like gemstones. And most surprisingly…

“The King’s my age?! Meisatsu squinted. The ruler’s feet didn’t even touch the floor. I feel like I know him from somewhere…

He was still studying the King’s eyes when the host wrapped up, “The five High-Priests will begin preparations for the yearly barrier reinforcement. That’s all for now, signing off!”

The projection vanished as abruptly as it appeared, leaving the familiar news chime lingering in the air.

“There you are!” Meisatsu spun around to see Gō storming toward him. “You left me on that mountain, you jerk!”

“You sleep on the mount—”

“No! My Magi-Mobile is totally busted thanks to you!!!” Gō’s brows were furrowed with fury. “I accept my defeat. But…did Ayame—the reward…?”

Meisatsu gave a stiff nod, sending Gō sprawling to the dirt road.

“It should have been me! Not him! It’s not—?”

“There he is! The abomination that will bring calamity upon our world!!!”

“Huh?” echoed the duo, snapping their heads in the direction of the old, hoarse voice.

An elderly man, bald with two massive, bushy eyebrows, clutched a crystal ball. His eyelids were shut in inverted smiles, and his frail hand rose as he spoke, “Look at him, clothed in darkness. He’ll doom us all.”

About twenty people huddled behind him murmured in agreement, genuine fear flickering across their faces—they were clearly followers.

Gō spun toward Meisatsu. “What did you do?”

“The heck should I know?!!” Meisatsu shouted, trying to keep his voice low. He turned to the gathering. “Why am I calamity, huh?!”

Three young men stepped forward swiftly, glaring at him.

The one on the left planted his hands on his hips, forming an A. 

“The Anti!…”

“Gun!!...” The one in the middle somehow contorted himself into a G.

“Front!!!” At the far right, the man stretched out his arms, forming an F.

At the end of the bizarre presentation, Meisatsu clinging to what little composure weakly repeated the words, “The Anti… Gun… Front…?”