Dragon Field Trio

Clack, clack, clack.

In the dead of night, a Metropolitan Police Department helicopter took to the skies, heading toward the east.

After crossing nearly the entire expanse of Tokyo, it arrived at Katsushika Ward, located at the city's easternmost edge.

"Report the situation!"

Director Takeya jumped off the helicopter with a dark expression, his face so livid it looked as if it could drip ink.

"Yes, sir."

"At 2:26 AM on May 25th."

"This facility suffered a supernatural attack. All 46 staff members on duty have fallen into an inexplicable state of unconsciousness."

Facing the top leader of the Metropolitan Police Department, the warden was covered in cold sweat. Although the Tokyo Detention House fell under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Justice and had no direct reporting line to the Metropolitan Police Department, the man before him was the cabinet-authorized official with real power over all supernatural incidents. With such a massive lapse occurring on his watch, there was no escaping a charge of dereliction of duty.

Though, in truth, anyone in his position would have faced the same outcome.

"Is it him?"

Upon entering the monitoring room and reviewing the footage, Director Takeya paused slightly.

"Ichika, what do you think?"

"Director, Officer Iori is currently overseeing Nerima Ward."

Fuji Seiko, who was following behind him, replied, snapping Director Takeya back to reality.

Right. Ichika and Tanimura Wataru had remained in Nerima Ward, scouring the scene in hopes that Tanimura Wataru's extraordinary sense of smell might uncover a trail.

As for Fuji Seiko, who had accompanied him here, she was unaware of the existence of "Mr. Three" and naturally could offer no suggestions.

"Let's go. To the scene."

"This scene is truly bloody."

In the prison courtyard, a large number of forensics personnel in protective gear had already arrived ahead of them, busy collecting fragments of flesh and blood!

"Director."

Another section chief commanding the scene saluted and reported the situation.

"We are working hard to gather the remains of the prisoners who died from 'self-detonation.' We expect to finish the work in three hours."

"Hmm, well done."

Although it was infuriating that the prison was treated like a public restroom by supernatural entities, that "Mr. Three" had still left behind quite a few "good things."

His gaze fell upon the traces of flesh and blood splattered across the ground like exploded bombs, and Director Takeya adjusted his non-prescription glasses.

Having reached his position, he dealt with death 12 hours a day, without interruption.

As for mere prisoners, if they died, they died.

But what could be gained from them—that was what mattered most!

It was not hard to see from the surveillance footage that "Mr. Three" was creating new supernatural beings using a method different from Tanimura Wataru's.

These exploded remains, while merely "failed products" of the other party's experiments, were treasures in the eyes of the Island Nation's government! When it came to supernatural research, a single hair or a drop of blood was incredibly precious!

"Director, the files on the three who escaped are here."

"Hmm."

He took the materials handed over by his secretary. In truth, Director Takeya knew who those three were without even looking.

Because they were all "notorious" criminals in the Island Nation!

It wasn't that they were particularly heinous, but rather that they were highly controversial in certain respects.

For instance: a villain who, due to permanent amnesia from a car accident, believed himself to be a good person despite having bullied many; a youth who, after being hunted down by his victims, killed them in self-defense and stood in court with an innocent face, making it difficult to pass judgment due to the "inconsistency between subjective and objective" nature of the crime;

And a young man who, while on the run for murder, disfigured himself to evade capture, underwent several rounds of plastic surgery, played a two-and-a-half-year game of "hide-and-seek" with the police, became an internet sensation due to his handsome face, and went on to write an autobiography in prison, earning a fortune and gaining a massive female fanbase;

Not to mention the man who ended countless "elite bodyguards" with two shots, turning them into a laughingstock.

"I hope these three don't cause any major trouble."

Of course, if he were in their shoes and had gained supernatural power, he would... Director Takeya shook his head, deciding not to think about it at all.

As the saying goes, one does not worry about debt when one has too much, nor does one itch when one has too many lice. He couldn't control what those supernatural beings wanted to do.

And he had no way to control it!

What a troubled autumn this is.

Shibuya under the cover of night is a paradise for the young.

With its department stores, fashion boutiques, eateries, cafes, arcades, and adult entertainment venues packed as densely as clouds, it is truly a "city that never sleeps." Countless young people recklessly squander their youth and their money here.

Various street performers either sang to their own accompaniment or performed performance art. The people coming and going were all young; one had to have money, talent, or good looks.

What's that? You have none of those?

Then go home and sleep!

As a landmark location, the "Scramble Crossing" outside Shibuya Station is world-famous, a frequent guest in disaster films.

Lost in Translation, Resident Evil: Afterlife, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift—all were filmed right here.

"Excuse me."

A magnetic voice rang out in front of them, causing two young women walking together by the roadside to stop in their tracks.

"What the—"

"...Handsome, can we help you?"

The pitch of their voices dropped by a dozen decibels; the blonde woman, who had instinctively prepared to snap at the stranger, switched to a high-pitched, coquettish tone.

"It's like this,"

The man who had stopped them was tall and handsome. He looked to be in his thirties or forties, yet possessed the smooth, clear skin of a man in his twenties. His black curly hair was full of artistic flair, and his sharp, well-defined features hinted at mixed heritage, yet they weren't harsh; instead, they were blended with a touch of Eastern melancholy.

"I just came out from 'home,' and I'm..."

"Not very familiar with this place."

Gesturing in a circle with his finger, the handsome man spoke with a hint of shyness.

"Could I ask you a few questions?"

With that, he gestured toward the cafe beside them.

"My treat."

"Sure, sure~~"

The two women nodded repeatedly, their wigs nearly flying off!

It wasn't that they were desperate, but this young man was clean-cut; one look and you could tell he wasn't the type to play around.

The clothes he wore looked like styles from over a decade ago, yet they were undeniably high-end brands. Coupled with a face that carried a hint of melancholy amidst its handsomeness, and this green, awkward demeanor, he practically had "runaway rich young master" written all over his face.

Besides—even if he wasn't, with a man this handsome, it was hard to say who would be the one losing out if they hooked up.

They were both experienced carnivores, after all!

The three entered the cafe. The man gentlemanly pulled out chairs for the two women, making no effort to hide his curiosity about a place he had "never been to before."

As the waiter served the coffee, the three chatted and laughed, with bursts of laughter erupting from time to time.

The ones laughing were, of course, the two women. This man, with his blend of handsomeness and melancholy, only offered shy, awkward smiles. Usually, such smiles were the hallmark of the "nerds" the women despised most, but they couldn't help it—the man was just too good-looking.

In short, everything about him was pleasing to the eye!

Young people, whether male or female, are all the same—everyone is a sucker for a pretty face!

In their conversation, while he was clearly ignorant of "trendy" slang and lacked all sorts of common knowledge, his speech was elegant. He tossed out literary allusions with ease, and his graceful, dashing manner made the two women cross their legs tight, terrified of spilling their coffee.

"Ahem, time to go, Young Master."

Just as the three were having a pleasant conversation, a short man wearing a mask and a tracksuit entered the cafe and walked straight over.

"Ah, is it that time already?"

Raising his wrist to glance at his expensive watch, the handsome man took out his wallet.

"Waiter, check, please."

"What a pity."

"Look, they're heading to the five-star hotel on the corner!"

"As expected of a rich young master experiencing life, he walks with such flair. Damn it, I'll never forget this encounter for the rest of my life~~"

The two women sat in the cafe, wallowing in self-pity. Compared to this "noble young master," the guys they'd slept with before were nothing but a bunch of hot-headed monkeys.

Utterly devoid of charm!

Handsome, wealthy, and graceful—when had women like them ever encountered such a "top-tier" specimen?

If they could have hooked up with him, it would have been worth it even if they died!

Too bad he didn't have the slightest intention of doing so.

"This way, Young Master."

In the five-star hotel at the corner, led by the short man in the mask, the two took the elevator to the presidential suite on the top floor.

"Wow, you got the check-in documents sorted out so quickly?"

After entering, the handsome man looked around and couldn't help but whistle.

"Honestly, I've never stayed in a presidential suite—though with my royalties, I could definitely afford it."

It was a pity that as a prisoner serving a life sentence, he had nowhere to spend his money.

"Keep your voice down, I'm checking the room."

The middle-aged man, who was meticulously inspecting the room's furnishings, looked up. He had refined features and wore glasses, looking just like an ordinary office worker—though before entering prison, he had indeed worked odd jobs at a factory.

"With a former member of the Self-Defense Force like you here, I feel much more at ease."

The handsome man sat on the sofa and began searching for the remote control.

"The appliances here are voice-activated."

"I see."

The handsome man sighed with a hint of melancholy.

"I've only been in prison for a little over ten years, yet coming out, it feels like the world has completely changed."

Everything from fashion, diet, and architectural styles to the currency that had been in use for decades had changed! Of course, the most obvious change was the smartphone that everyone held in their hands.

Before he went to prison, mobile phones were merely communication devices; now, they were essential items that humans could not live without.

Regarding his companion's "reminiscing about the good old days" posture, the middle-aged man who had finished checking the room walked over and tossed two passports to the other two men.

"I 'borrowed' these. Use them for the time being."

"Thanks."

The handsome youth picked up a passport and looked at the photo on it.

"Not as handsome as me, but it'll do."

"Now then, what are your plans?"

Removing his mask, the short man spoke up to ask.

He looked to be about twenty years old, and with his baby face, he resembled a high school student.

However, as the first person to survive the prison's "Battle Royale," he was not as harmless as his appearance suggested: even though he had lost his memories, his agile movements and decisive, ruthless nature remained.

Moreover, he now possessed extraordinary power.

"Let me state this in advance: if you intend to slaughter the innocent, I will kill you first."

His words were unhurried, yet they commanded an attention that no one dared to ignore.

"Hey, hey, hey, we're all serious criminals here."

The handsome youth spread his hands.

"This isn't the 'Battle Royale' anymore; we are free now. There's no need to keep killing each other. What do you mean by that?"

"No, he's serious."

The bespectacled middle-aged man, who had handed the passports to the two, sat down and began to introduce the youth to the handsome man.

"Saito Kai. Raised in a single-parent household. Convicted of violent assault and murder."

"A complete piece of trash. He bullied over six people in public school, both boys and girls, and used lewd videos as blackmail. He was the 'big boss' of that school."

"Later, due to a car accident, he suffered permanent amnesia. After recovering, he believed he was just an ordinary student: he studied diligently, worked part-time, and even joined the baseball team to sweat it out on the field."

The classmates he had bullied went from initial fear and confusion to, once they realized the truth, immediately uniting to pour their fury onto the 'weakened' him.

However, he had only lost his memories, not his intelligence. After a series of confrontations, Saito Kai accidentally killed the person he perceived as his 'bully.'

Standing in the courtroom, He finally realized that he was the origin of all that evil!

"In short, this guy is a villain who firmly believes in justice."

Such a bizarre case had caused quite a sensation.

"There's such a thing?"

The handsome youth was stunned. As expected, everyone in the Tokyo Detention House was a talent; he should have chatted with them more.

"I've decided, I'm going to write your story into my book—"

Swish.

A dagger was held across his throat, cutting the handsome youth's words short.

"Even now, I still don't have a single shred of memory regarding my past."

"But if the 'Saito Kai' of the past were standing in front of me, I would kill him immediately!"

After saying this, he put away the dagger. The boy named 'Saito Kai' sat on the other side, staring at these two 'companions.'

"The same goes for you two. Remember: if you slaughter the innocent or bully the weak, I will kill you as well."

The reason he stepped out of his cell was originally to prevent other criminals from 'escaping'; in the courtyard's Battle Royale, he was the one who killed the most people, all to ensure there were fewer fugitives. One could say he was a very twisted individual.

"OK."

As a man with a 'performative personality,' the handsome youth

accepted this bizarre 'villain of justice' setting of his companion.

"Then why don't you just kill yourself?"

Faced with the handsome youth's question, Saito Kai lowered his eyes.

"This is my mother's request; she does not allow me to commit suicide."

Upon learning that he was the true culprit behind everything, Saito Kai had no complaints regarding any of the sentences passed against him and prepared to atone with his death, only to be stopped by his mother: a simple woman who knew nothing but working at the factory, had no idea how to raise a child, and remained completely oblivious to all the sins her son had committed.

Faced with his mother's tearful pleas, Saito Kai could think of nothing else to do but atone for his sins within the prison.

But now:

This power.

Clenching his fingers, the surging 'yōryoku' galloped through his body, and a look of contemplation flashed in the youth's eyes.

Although atonement cannot change anything, but... if I can prevent more evil, that should count as a form of compensation, right? Mother. If I were to 'die in battle,' it wouldn't count as breaking the promise between us.

"I'll state this beforehand: I will kill."

On the other side, the middle-aged man in glasses, Yamagami, spoke indifferently.

"I have a debt to settle with those 'cultists,' and if you intend to stop me—"

Crackling, Lightning exploded around Yamagami's body.

"I wouldn't mind sending you to meet the authorities who refuse to act!"