For the first time in ages, I spent the night working on something other than research.

“...This world really isn’t normal.”

As I reviewed the data collected and organized by the AI, I muttered those words to myself. Recalling the case of Z City, where illegal human experiments were conducted in secret, it became clear that this world was far from clean. In fact, it might be worse than Earth.

On Earth, discrimination and human experimentation had significantly declined after two world wars that reshaped humanity's understanding of morality. But in this world, where non-humans existed and no transformative global war had occurred, discrimination and unspeakable atrocities still thrived.

I wanted to expose it all, to destroy everything built on this filth, but I suppressed the urge and carefully consolidated the information.

‘First, let’s set up a recursive function…’

The boss’s concern about a certain type of ability-user lingered in my mind. If there really was someone capable of detecting when their information was leaked, there was a way to neutralize them: overwhelm their ability.

By flooding them with an infinite stream of alerts—every second, every minute, every hour—the relentless barrage would drive them mad, forcing them to deactivate their power. Conveniently, I had the perfect tool for such a task: the AI could endlessly send signals to the ability-user, altering its identity each time, like a VPN user spamming memes across forums.

Could anyone withstand tens of thousands of signals per second? If such an ability-user existed, this alone would render them obsolete.

‘As for the rest, it must be hidden offline… No trace of it on the internet.’

Despite the countless pieces of data the AI uncovered, there were still bits of information that couldn’t be found online—details that could only be retrieved through direct, physical investigation. Knowing where to find them, I left the lab and pulled out my smartphone. It had been a while since my last outing, and the locations I had to visit were too dangerous for someone as physically defenseless as me to handle alone.

“I can’t involve any executives; the boss might catch on… I’ll have to call in someone else.”

Fortunately, I had a few assets under my command who weren’t part of the organization proper. They were skilled individuals, both in combat and ability, who could handle this sort of work perfectly.

I sent a message to two such individuals, likely lounging in the break room, and waited in the lab for their arrival. Beyond the glass, the faint starlight contrasted sharply with the gleaming, overdeveloped city skyline. It was pure, untainted starlight—something that could no longer be seen on Earth.

Just as the stars here shone differently, there were many things in this world that Earth could never offer. That was why I liked it here. And why I owed Regalia everything for giving me a place in it.

If she desired something, I would make it happen. Whatever she wanted—literally anything.

 * * *

A rundown building far from the bustling city. At the entrance of this now-abandoned site, a lone guard stretched and yawned lazily.

Ever since he got the job here, his responsibilities had been limited to chasing away homeless people looking for a place to sleep or dealing with delinquents using the site for booze, cigarettes, and illicit rendezvous.

Security was strict—so strict, in fact, that no one would ever guess this decrepit building was a front for a cutting-edge corporate research lab.

After all, who would even care about a dilapidated building like this? It was rare for anyone to approach at all.

“Hm?”

The guard squinted as he noticed lights approaching from the distance. The scheduled shipments for the day had already arrived, so he double-checked to see if anything had been missed. As the lights grew closer, the source came into view on the security cameras: a sleek, unfamiliar vehicle.

The guard frowned. This wasn’t a supply truck. Maybe some lost travelers had ended up here, or perhaps a couple had come seeking privacy for unsavory activities. Either way, he figured something would happen soon.

Then, three figures emerged from the car.

“Wow…”

The guard couldn’t help but let out a low whistle at the sight of the woman who stepped out of the driver’s seat. She was wearing a tight black suit that accentuated her ample curves and hips, a body rivaling that of any gravure model.

For a moment, he wondered if they were here to film a risqué video. But before he could finish the thought, the woman reached for her waist, and a long sword materialized in her hand.

“What the hell…?”

The guard stared in disbelief. This wasn’t the medieval era—what was she planning to do with a sword?

His question was immediately answered as the woman swung her weapon. A devastating shockwave of sword energy erupted, obliterating part of the abandoned building.

“…Shit.”

His astonishment only lasted a moment. Reacting professionally, he pressed the emergency alarm, signaling those inside to destroy sensitive materials and evacuate immediately.

But nothing happened. No matter how many times he pressed the button, the alarm didn’t activate. Growing increasingly uneasy, he crawled under his desk and fiddled with the button directly. Still, it didn’t work.

“Damn it, what’s the maintenance team even doing right now!?”

Of all times for the system to fail… Realizing the gravity of the situation, the guard grabbed the landline to call inside. To his horror, the phone was dead.

Both the landline and his smartphone were unresponsive, and even the emergency alarm was useless. This wasn’t a coincidence. It was clear that the intruders were responsible for this sabotage.

“…What was the protocol for this?”

Frantically flipping through the manual, he found the relevant section: procedures for dealing with unstoppable intruders who had disabled all communication.

[If the above situation occurs, the user is advised to commit suicide immediately. The presence of such skilled attackers suggests they are unlikely to leave even a low-level guard alive.]

“C-commit suicide…?”

Trembling, the guard read and reread the manual. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to follow this protocol. But it was company policy, and ignoring it was unthinkable.

With shaky hands, he opened a drawer and pulled out a pistol. The weapon trembled violently in his grip as he raised it to his temple, then hesitated. He remembered an article he had once read online—shooting oneself in the temple wasn’t always fatal.

Switching positions, he placed the barrel under his chin, then against his forehead, then into his mouth, each time stalling as he struggled to muster the courage. Finally, just as he steeled himself and began to squeeze the trigger—something wrenched the gun from his hand.

“W-what the hell—!?”
“Ah, no. You can’t just kill yourself right in front of me.”

The guard froze as he turned to look at the person who had taken the gun. What he saw—or rather, couldn’t see—terrified him. The figure’s face was completely obscured, not by a mask or scars, but as though it had been physically erased. His brain refused to process it, leaving him staring at a warped, mosaic-like void.

Unable to bear the sight, he dropped his gaze. A voice followed, calm but unnervingly forgettable.
“Are you the guard? I can’t seem to find the way inside. Where’s the door?”
“I… I can’t tell you that…”
“I see. I’ll figure it out myself, then.”

The intruder aimed a device resembling a handheld scanner at the guard’s forehead. Thinking it was a gun, the guard squeezed his eyes shut and trembled. They didn’t want him dead after all; they wanted to extract information.

Despite his fear, the guard resolved to remain silent, clinging to his duty to protect the facility’s secrets.

Then, a soft beep sounded.

“Thank you for your cooperation. The door is over here.”
“…What?”
“Oh, and you should go home. Staying here won’t end well for you.”

With that, the intruder turned and casually walked toward the research lab’s entrance, moving as if they already knew the layout.

The guard sat frozen, his trembling subsiding as he stared blankly at the retreating figure. Whatever had just happened was beyond his comprehension. He couldn’t make sense of it.

It was as though he had been caught in a storm without realizing he was in one.