192: Seventy-Sixth Floor

The seventy-sixth floor of Arasaka Tower.

In the internal designation system, this floor had been given a meaningful codename—"Jungle."

As the heavy bulletproof elevator doors opened, a wave of hot, humid air immediately rushed out.

The floor's control and climate-regulation systems perfectly recreated a subtropical rainforest ecosystem. Barely visible mist hung in the air, while interwoven canopies overhead filtered artificial sunlight into mottled patches of light and shadow. From the darkness came the electronically simulated calls of insects and birds, with their sound patterns changing precisely every fifteen minutes.

At the center of this meticulously constructed primeval jungle lay a circular clearing of roughly thirty square meters, like sacred ground swept clean by some invisible force.

There stood a pitch-black stone conference table, made from Ōya Stone, a specialty of Ōya Stone Quarry, Utsunomiya, Tochigi Prefecture.

This precious stone, quarried for over a thousand years, was known for its light weight and distinctive earthquake-resistant structure. It had traditionally been used only in Japanese architecture, and there had even been cases in which buildings constructed with Ōya Stone survived earthquakes and fires. Its extraction was specially restricted by the government.

Normally, however, this stone was used only in construction. It was quite rare to see it made into a table.

Twelve chairs surrounded the Ōya Stone table. Ten stood in neat rows along either side like samurai, while the two seats at the ends of the long table drew the most attention—they were distinctly different from ordinary chairs.

This arrangement concealed a subtle change. Over the past century, there had always been only eleven chairs at this table.

According to Arasaka tradition, the center of power had never needed more than one throne. Until today—when, to welcome Rosalind Myles's visit, Arasaka personnel had been forced to break tradition and add a