Chapter 7: Set in Motion

Expelling the lingering memories from his mind with a conclusive sigh, Kuro turned to face his right, where Talmarius waited on him quietly.

“Seeing them like this sure takes me back.” Kuro smiled, a simple gesture. “Alright, Talmarius. It’s time I get going.”

“As you wish, my Liege,” his trusty butler responded.

The sky above began to take on a more reddish hue—evening was nearing quickly. Talmarius once again took the lead on the way back to the mansion, but after a short while, Kuro began walking at the same pace with him, right by his side.

It was an act that brought a fulfilled smirk to Talmarius’s lips. He would be sure to relish this moment later…

At some point during the journey, Kuro observed his butler’s demeanor slightly alter—something was clearly on his mind. So, he asked, “Is something the matter?”

Talmarius did not let his usually composed demeanor slip. He gathered his thoughts in a comprehensive manner before speaking. “My Liege, is it really necessary to subject yourself to the humdrum of modern society?”

Kuro couldn’t entirely dismiss Talmarius’s concern. He remembered the days his mother would walk with him around the city, heavily clothed—an attempt to conceal themselves.

She had felt the need to expose little Kuro to the outside world even at the risk of being attacked. But they were never truly defenseless. The young boy would always feel the watchful eyes of his father and butler trained on them from afar.

And just recently he had an encounter with none other than The Hero. From a commonsensical point of view, staying cooped up in the mansion, or crushing the enemy with overwhelming force would have been optimal—

“Talmarius, necessity or not, I only do things if ‘I want to.’”

“Understood.”

The distance between the pair and the mansion was gradually shrinking. Kuro swept over the entirety of the structure before him with his eyes.

It was as if during its construction, there was an irresolute plan for the final design. It had aesthetics of both Japanese and European styles. Certain aspects like the roof would contrast with the interior. Sliding doors could be found leading to some rooms, and double doors to others.

The way the conflicting styles somehow worked together made Kuro experience a sense of happiness as he started to chuckle beside himself.

They walked across the vast halls of the mansion. The maids had assumed their posts, diligently lining the corridors with flawless grace.

Talmarius came to a steady halt as he reached the two looming doors that lead to the front of the house—to the gates. The very ones Kuro opened all those years ago and met that scene…

“Spatial Traverse,” Talmarius pronounced, and the doors reacted, morphing into that colorful space once more. “Your departure pains me greatly—”

“Don’t give me that! You always pop up at least twice a week for that ‘surprise mandatory training.’”

At Kuro’s sudden retort, Talmarius let out an emphatic laugh. “Still, I miss those days you always graced us with your presence, my Liege.”

“Well, too bad. I go to college now,” Kuro said flippantly, before smiling at his overbearing butler. He set one foot into the portal. “Later.”

Talmarius watched the one he served—the Demon King—disappear into the colorful space.

● ● ●

At the Shinjuku Branch of Belova Industries…

Shun and Irina were descending through the floors at a surprisingly normal pace. Earlier, she had asked Shun if they could go any faster. His answer involved an impossibly lengthy lecture on why it was best for first timers to move at their current speed.

The brief summary of Shun’s speech was: “Just to be on the safe side of things, this is for the best. You’ll understand why later on.”

Irina clicked her tongue mentally. Like I would be rattled by some elevator ride.

She hadn’t noticed it before, but his appearance really did stand out—and there should be no surprise why.

Aside from his questionable fashion sense, both his eyes and hair were a brilliant shade of grey. Or was it silver? The most suitable description would be metallic blonde.

“So,” he started, turning his ever jovial expression to her, “how long have you known Osamu?”

Irina thought, Is he trying to make conversation?

She then replied, “For a fairly long time, I would say. My family, every now and then, would organize trips to random branches of the company during my younger years. I just so happened to run into him often during those trips.”

“No wonder you two seemed so close.”

Irina used a hand to wave off the sentiment.

The mark on her neck that was normally concealed was fully exposed, and Shun had been observing it.

“I’m impressed that you’re already at Stage IV.”

The compliment did reach the ears of its intended target, but it only sparked a new question.

“What Stage are you at, Shun?”

A haughty scoff came from the person in question, and he raised his right hand. He whisked off the black glove—

I

That is even lower than Osamu’s!

Irina remembered a scene from her childhood. Out of curiosity, little Irina had asked Osamu about his stage, and he showed her the mark on his left shin—Stage II. He also mentioned that he might not have the talent or skill to advance past that Stage.

And now here was someone, with a Stage even lower than that, flaunting it proudly.

“I know it isn’t super impressive. But, that just means I’ll have to find other ways to make up for that lack in raw power, wouldn’t you agree?”

Just how optimistic is he? Irina mused as he nimbly slipped the glove back on.

“We’ve arrived!”

With a ding, the elevator’s doors opened in sync with Shun’s grand declaration—which caused Irina to reel, just a little. Nevertheless, his energy was becoming infectious as she smiled at his little display.

A room so white and sterile, that at first looked blank, was what Irina met. It had rows of desks that practically blended in with the surroundings. Items like beakers, burners, pipettes and syringes were scattered across the desks. There was even a distillation apparatus set up with multi-colored liquids bubbling within.

At the far ends of this room, blobs of many shades and hues levitated in long, crystalline tubes. Fluorescent lights lined the ceiling casting a constant stream of white light.

All in all, there was a certain sensation that the space emitted…

Discord.

“Haa…” Shun sighed. “This is where I belong.”

Irina did not need to be told that twice. From his physical disposition alone, she got the impression of a creature residing in its natural habitat.

“This entire place is yours?” Irina questioned as she slowly spun around to get a full view of the isolated space. “You do not ever get, lonely?”

“What? Me?! Lonely?!! Hogwash!”

Hogwash…?

“My lovely lab could never make me feel lonely—ever! Although, there are a few times when certain folks come down here to deliver stuff… Then there’s Osamu. Maybe the big shots who…”

Tuning out Shun, who had once again hopped on his rambling streak, Irina could see the amount of love he had for the illustrious Ground Zero.

“…and that’s why I could never—ever—be lonely down here,” Shun mumbled in conclusion.

“My apologies.”

“It’s all good!”

“Tell me, what exactly do you do down here?”

Without giving it as much as a second thought, Shun automatically answered, “In this beloved lab of mine, I develop new ways to integrate ‘magic’ into more ‘modern’ interfaces. Think of it as an evolution of sorts.”

Irina quietly listened as Shun showed no signs of stopping.

“Then, the Clan would look at my lovely designs and creations, before deciding whether or not to commission them. I’ve also been charged with researching ways to build a weaponized version of accessible magic that anyone could use, for the sake of wars or stuff like that.”

Irina looked at Shun incredulously due to how callously he blurted that last part. She could not help but think of how troublesome it would be if regular society somehow got its hands on magic of any sort, and the kind of drawbacks that could have.

“Don’t sweat the small stuff. Right now, my most important task is getting you up to your maximum potential. And, as usual, I shall not fail!”

A small laugh from Irina, grew more sonorous, filling the lab. She wiped the little tears that formed at the corners of her eyes. “You really are something… You know?”

Shun tilted his head, an act revealing his cluelessness at his own penchants. He scurried off to a desk, shoving away some more contraptions—supposedly, he was clearing some room. Not that anything changed much.

As Irina watched the “Genius Hero” fiddle around with the arrangement of some scattered items in his lab, her eyes caught a framed photo on one of the all-white walls.

It was a feather. A feather that looked like it was carved out of pure sunlight, suspended in the air under its own power. This feather was enclosed in a little display case, like a monument at a museum.

“Is that…?!”

Before Irina could regain her equanimity, Shun chimed in, “Yeah, it is!”