Book 1: Chapter 9: (3) ***Bonus***

Book 1: Chapter 9: (3) ***Bonus***

Harmony and conformity are but the senseless drivel of idealists that was what he said.

He could not bring himself to deny it. These dull emotions hung heavily upon Matobas heart. When he first met her, had he not discriminated against Tilarna himself?

Moreover, he understood the sense of crisis Roth held.

Poisoned by the evils of consumer culture, how could they ever hope to prevail against the Semani?

Setting aside the question of total war, what if they were given fairer circumstances subject to the same conditions, the same rules? To compete with them as members of the same society? No matter the field of work, they would most likely be unable to equal the Semani in terms of prowess. Whether as a businessman, an actor or a singer, or perhaps even as a scientist. Of course, the police were included in this equation as well.

The same philosophy held true in ages past. Those in positions of power would always discriminate against those belonging to a different race or social class. Such was their way of life. Living under the fear that they might lose their place of superiority someday. It was not a matter of good or evil, but rather a natural response to their continued self-preservation.

Back when he was still living in Japan as a middle-school student, his mother had been experiencing problems with her PC. This led her to call the manufacturer for customer support. After a few words with the operator on the other end, she handed it over to Matoba, sayingI dont really get it. Kei, could you go talk to him for me?. As it turned out, their operator was Chinese. For that particular brand of PCs, the manufacturing company had outsourced its support to an ancillary firm located in China. In perfectly fluent Japanese, the Chinese operator politely determined the cause of the error, explaining the solution in a manner such that even the most illiterate of persons would understand. Compared to his fussy Japanese counterparts, this operator was much more diligent in carrying out his work. Even so, Matobas mother a good woman, by all accounts still complained, grumblingMy, for us to resort to foreigners..

It was at that time, Matoba first understood. The fact that his people may lose their place of superiority. Hearing the sincere voice of that Chinese operator had given rise to a vague anxiety within him, in spite of the economic superiority his country held at the time. Whether it be the crimes he saw on TV, the anti-Japanese demonstrations, or the violent riots, nothing could compare to the terror that came from that kind, earnest voice.

And the same could be said for the Semani.

Sure, they may still be stuck in the Middle Ages now, but their people are fervent scholars, brimming with vitality and endless ambition. Tilarna was one such person. To them, their concept of pleasure could not even begin to compare to the vices of the human race. During his time as a detective, he had always had an inkling of that somewhere deep in his heart.

The role of the police had always been left in the hands of the Earthlings.

He completely understood Roths explanation. Having gone to war with these folks before, Matoba knew that all too well.

Even so

Youre still violating the law.

Looking down upon Roths lifeless body, he murmured.

He had been carrying an impossible, futile desire upon his shoulders. In spite of his duty to protect the citizens, he had betrayed that responsibility to follow up on his convictions to the very end. There was still plenty that he could have learned from him, thought Matoba.

Yet, the end result was this.

This heavy burden, do you really understand what youve pushed onto me, old man?

It was still early in the morning. The night had been ever so silent. For whatever reason, that irritated him.

How many seconds had he spent just standing there? Before he knew it, Tilarna had called out to him with a sigh.

Kei

No time to be moping around like this, I guess.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only

Resolutely picking up his gun from the ground, Matoba began running.

His grief would come after. There were still stones left unturned.

For him no, for the two of them.

Were going after him. Zeladas planning to detonate the bomb as soon as he reaches the city.

Spotting a patrol car on the palace grounds, they subsequently borrowed it, rushing towards the city. The previous driver had been left to tend to Roth. The police were also on high alert for the location of the Chiefs car.

They had already wasted enough time. Though they were swerving past the meandering roads of the hillside, it was much too late to catch up to Zeladas ride. They had no idea where he was bringing the Spirit Bomb.

Kei! D-do you have a clue as to his whereabouts?

Her eyes spinning from the rough driving, Tilarna asked.

Who knows. Hes just another suspect to me.

Not even five minutes had elapsed when they reached Forrest Tower. Given the time, obviously none of the stores were open. Matoba had contacted the towers security center over the phone, yet they reported nothing out of the ordinary. He made a ruckus outside the employee entrance, hoping to attract the attention of the guards, but to no avail.

Please wait while we check on the premises. They are most likely just taking a nap

No, dont bother. Im closer anyways.

Rudely interrupting the sluggish response of the security center, Matoba got out of his car and passed through the employee entrance.

The two security officers guarding the place were dead.

Anguish was plastered on their dying faces. Their eyes bulged as if they were about to fall off; they had torn out their own throats up to their chests, dying in the process.

Did theydrown? Shit.

Cursing, he surveyed the guardpost.

Zeladas handiwork?

There is no mistaking it.

Her small nose sniffing about, Tilarna replied.

Such a sinister branii1. They were most likely killed by his mildi2.

Fuck!

Matoba inspected the guardposts console. About twenty or so monitors displayed the feeds broadcasted from the surrounding security cameras. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Zelada. He checked the elevators next. One was moving. A service elevator heading straight to the top floor of the building.

Hes headed to the roof. Lets go.

The two of them left the guardpost, rushing towards another service elevator. It was an elevator with a direct link to the showroom located on the highest floor, most likely used to carry the goods for sale.

As I thought, he can control people even without the drug, cant he?

I said it earlier, did I not? That man is dangerous.

Even now, no Earthling could truly comprehend the danger posed by a Semanian mildita3. Over here, youd normally call someone like that a medicine man.

The Native Americans medicine man a figure long worshipped for their claim to magic. Through the power of their concoctions and tricks, many came to think of them as sorcerers or illusionists within the tribe.

Matoba knew that was not truly the case. At the time, they had simply manipulated the laws of physics in order to reproduce the phenomena that they claimed was indeed magic. Still, plenty a mystery still lingered around these men to this day.

Do you know all the tricks up his sleeve?

I too do not have a full grasp of the particulars. However, I do believe that he has yet to show us his full power.

Even that scene with the rope?

Although he had merely torn them to escape, he most likely had the confidence to kill the both of us anytime if he so wished. As for the reason he obeyed your orders, he was probably just taking a wait-and-see approach.

Well, thats probably the case. Goddamnit.

He slammed his fist against the elevator wall. On top of the fact that Zelada effortlessly broke through his nylon tape restraints, Matoba could not deny the truth behind Tilarnas words.

This was not looking good.

It would be suicide to embark on the field of battle without first getting information on the enemys tactics. That did not change regardless of whether you were on Earth or in the Semani world.

Translators Notes: TL Note: Farbanian for scent/odor. TL Note: Farbanian for magic/skill/technique. TL Note: Farbanian for magician.