Chapter 75: The Gathering Storm and the Return of the Necromancer

Sunday morning.
Tokyo’s streets were strangely quiet, wrapped in the cool breath of dawn.

Kanata’s footsteps echoed lightly as he jogged through the city—something he still did to clear his head before another week of chaos.

But this time, he stopped halfway down the road.

Ahead, soldiers from the M.R.S.U. had set up a checkpoint.
Lines of civilians stood under the early sunlight as scanners hummed, checking body temperatures and mana readings.

“He’s clear! Next!” shouted one of the guards.

Kanata slowed, watching in silence.
Tokyo had changed again.
The city that once brimmed with magic and laughter now felt… heavy.
Like a storm waiting to break.

He started jogging again—
until a black car screeched to a stop right in front of him.

The window rolled down.
A familiar smirk greeted him.

“Yo, Kanata-kun.”

“Reiga?” Kanata blinked.
Gone was the lazy class clown from years ago.
Reiga now wore a sharp black uniform, the silver insignia of M.R.S.U. Intelligence glinting on his shoulder.

He gestured toward the passenger seat.
“Get in. We need to talk.”

Tokyo blurred past the windows as they drove.

“So,” Kanata said, folding his arms. “What’s this all about?”

Reiga’s tone turned grim.
“Have you heard about the new outbreak cases?”

“Not really. I’ve been busy teaching kids not to blow up classrooms.”

Reiga sighed.
“Then listen carefully. What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this car. Promise me.”

Kanata nodded.

Reiga’s hands tightened on the wheel.
“The perpetrator behind the Anvill zombie outbreak… has arrived in Tokyo.”

Kanata blinked.
“Heh. You actually sound serious.”

“I am.” Reiga’s voice dropped lower.
“We don’t know when he’ll act—but when he does, it’ll be catastrophic. You need to stay alert.”

Kanata smirked.
“Didn’t expect you of all people to worry about me.”

“Yeah, well… don’t make me regret it.”

They turned down a restricted street. The road opened into a heavily fortified compound—the M.R.S.U. Central Command Base.

Dozens of soldiers trained in the courtyard; mechanics checked armored trucks.
The place buzzed with tension.

As they entered the main building, a sharp voice called out:

“Reiga! Finally. And you brought him?”

Kanata turned.
A woman with cropped hair and piercing eyes stood waiting—Kobayashi, now wearing the rank of Vice Commander.

Reiga scratched the back of his head.
“He wanted in. Better to bring him than deal with his lectures later.”

“Lectures?” Kanata frowned.
“I didn’t even know this was a meeting.”

“You’ll live,” Reiga muttered. “Come on. Aine’s waiting.”

The briefing room was a warzone of papers, holograms, and exhausted officers.
Kanata froze as he saw the person at the head of the table.

“Yo, Kanata-kun.”

“Aine…?”

Commander Aine Kisaragi, once his classmate, now stood tall in her black combat uniform—Commander of M.R.S.U. Operations.

“Not exactly a reunion party, huh?” she said with a small smile.
“But there’s something we need to discuss.”

Reiga, Kobayashi, and several generals took their seats.
The meeting began.

Aine projected a map of the world.
Every red dot represented an infection zone.
Every second, new ones flickered into existence.

“Global containment is failing,” she said firmly.
“Even the U.N. can’t keep up. Anvill was just the beginning.”

A gray-haired general raised his hand.
“Commander Aine, with all due respect—our forces are stretched thin. Even with purification tech, we can’t fully neutralize these undead zones.”

“Then we adapt,” she replied sharply.
“Unlike Anvill, Japan still has control. We won’t lose that.”

The room fell silent.

Then, another officer stood.
“Commander, about the intelligence you requested from Special Forces…”
He paused, then looked toward Reiga.
“Commander Reiga confirmed it this morning. We have a name.”

Aine narrowed her eyes.
“Speak.”

“Masahiro Kirigaya.”

The room erupted.
Officers muttered, gasped, cursed under their breath.

Reiga slammed a hand on the table.
“Keep it down!”

The officer continued:
“According to archived reports, Kirigaya was expelled from his academy after dousing his teacher in necrotic fluid. Later, he performed a ritual that turned his entire village—including his own parents—into undead.”

Aine’s jaw clenched.
“A monster…”

“Worse,” said the general. “He calls himself the Necromancer King. He plans to release a new strain of necro-gas across the globe—Tokyo may be his next target.”

Aine slammed both hands on the table.
“Then we act now. Effective immediately, Japan is to enter Defcon 2.”

Every officer froze.
Even Reiga and Kobayashi exchanged looks.

Kanata spoke first.
“Aine… isn’t that a little extreme?”

“Extreme?” she turned to him, voice sharp.
“You weren’t there, Kanata. You didn’t see what Anvill became. One mistake—one hour too slow—and millions burned.”

“And if you move too fast,” Kanata countered, “you’ll start a panic. People will die before a single zombie shows up.”

A murmur spread through the room.
Even Commander Kazama, the grizzled leader of the defense corps, nodded.
“The boy’s right. Defcon 2 will paralyze the entire country.”

Aine exhaled slowly.
Then, she closed her eyes and spoke with deliberate calm.

“Fine. Then we compromise.”

She turned toward the communications officer.

“Issue a nationwide emergency alert. Status: National State of Emergency. All civilian sectors to remain on standby.”

The officer saluted.
“Yes, ma’am!”

The red warning sigil pulsed on the wall screens:

[EMERGENCY STATUS — ACTIVE]
[ALL M.R.S.U. UNITS — MOBILIZE]

As the meeting ended, Aine’s voice echoed again.

“Kanata-kun—come to the rooftop after this. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Kanata blinked.
“Can it wait? I didn’t even have breakfast.”

“No. It can’t.”

He sighed.
“Figures.”

As he turned to leave, Reiga clapped him on the shoulder.

“You’ll want to hear this one, buddy.”

Kanata frowned.
“You know something I don’t?”

“Let’s just say,” Reiga grinned, “you’ve got more authority than you think.”

On his way out, Kanata’s thoughts churned.
He still couldn’t process what he’d heard—until Aine’s words finally hit him again.

“You’re one of us, Kanata. One of the Founders.”

He stopped mid-hallway.

“Founder…? Me?”

Outside the glass window, the city skyline glowed under the fading sun—
and far beyond it, dark clouds gathered on the horizon.