"Talk Show Night"

Takahashi had his eyes closed, preparing to form hand seals. At those words, he frowned impatiently. "That's the magical aura of the sulfur candles. Don't get distracted..."

Before he could finish speaking.

The highly concentrated natural gas pooled against the ceiling finally came into contact with the flickering flames of the sulfur candles below.

In that sealed underground space, the laws of physics unleashed a power ten thousand times more terrifying than any Onmyōdō Cursed Technique.

"BOOM!!!!!"

An earth-shattering blast tore through the rainy night in Flushing!

A massive orange-red fireball instantly burst through the underground warehouse's concrete roof. A violent shock wave, laden with rubble and rebar, shot skyward like a volcanic eruption.

Car alarms shrieked madly for several blocks around. The streetlights flickered a few times, then went out completely.

As for the conceited Onmyōji Takahashi and his apprentice, they never even had time to scream. The explosive combustion, reaching over a thousand degrees, instantly carbonized them, blasting them into ash along with the Shikigami they took such pride in.

High in the air.

The wind swept through John's golden hair, but the pouring rain could not even wet his pajamas. His bioelectric field automatically repelled it a centimeter from his body.

He looked down at the ruins engulfed in flames beneath his feet, listening to the fire engine sirens beginning to sound in the distance.

"A perfect accident."

John nodded in satisfaction. "No trace of any supernatural power. Just a natural gas explosion caused by aging pipes. Lynn will definitely praise me."

He turned, becoming a blur as he flew silently back toward Long Island.

A few minutes later.

On a rooftop across from the explosion site in Flushing.

Black Noir's figure appeared in the rain.

Edgar had originally ordered him to lie in wait here, ready to "evaluate" Lynn at the critical moment.

But he had barely arrived when the target hideout went straight into the sky.

Behind his mask, Black Noir's eyes remained fixed on the sea of flames. His keen instincts told him this was no gas leak.

But he searched everywhere, even using infrared vision, and found no residual energy left by any Supe, nor any suspicious figures.

The children's bedroom at the Long Island Estate.

John slipped lightly through the window without making even the slightest sound.

He lay back under the covers, adjusted his breathing, and closed his eyes.

Almost the very next second after he closed his eyes, the bedroom door was gently pushed open.

Lynn walked in with a glass of warm milk.

After turning things over in his mind in the study, he had decided to check on John and, while he was at it, think about how to warn the kid about the possible "supernatural assassination."

But when he reached the bedside, he saw John sleeping with his limbs sprawled out, while Buddy lay snoring at the foot of the bed.

For some reason, Lynn suddenly felt that the Blood Jade against his chest had not only stopped stirring completely, but even that faint sense of danger, of being watched, had inexplicably vanished without a trace, as though a taut string had suddenly been cut.

Was I overthinking it? Or did those people give up?

Lynn frowned, unable to make sense of it.

He set the warm milk on the nightstand and reached out to tuck John's covers in.

John seemed to sense Lynn's movements in his sleep. He burrowed a little deeper under the covers, a peaceful, innocent smile curling his lips.

Morning at the Long Island Estate. Early summer sunlight spilled through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows into the luxurious dining room, thoroughly dispelling the damp chill left by last night's downpour.

Lynn emerged from the kitchen carrying two plates of freshly fried bacon and sunny-side-up eggs.

At the dining table, John wore comfortable loungewear and held a chew stick, teasing Buddy, the golden retriever beneath the table.

The puppy had clearly come to regard the entire Manor as his new territory and was wagging his tail happily.

"Eat first. I've already put out Buddy's dog food."

Lynn set the plates on the table, picked up the remote, and switched on the wall-mounted television, tuning it to the morning news.

The screen flickered, revealing a female anchor solemnly reporting breaking news.

"Last night, a serious natural gas explosion occurred in Flushing, New York. According to the fire department, the explosion originated from a leak in aging pipes in an underground warehouse. Two Asian men were killed at the scene, and the building was completely destroyed. Police are currently conducting further identification..."

At the keywords "Flushing," "natural gas explosion," and "two Asian men," Lynn's knife and fork paused briefly over his bacon.

He instinctively touched his chest through his clothes.

The Yasakani Blood Jade, which had been stirring restlessly and putting him on guard the night before, was now as quiet as an ordinary cold stone, utterly lifeless.

That prickling sense of danger had also inexplicably vanished completely.

Lynn raised his eyebrows slightly and turned his gaze toward John, who was chewing large mouthfuls of bacon.

The blond boy was eating with relish. Noticing Lynn's gaze, he looked up with an innocent smile. "Lynn, the bacon's really crispy today. Could I have another glass of warm milk?"

"Of course." Lynn picked up the milk jug on the table and filled John's glass.

Lynn silently considered the possibilities.

The explosion in Flushing, the Asians who had come across the sea, the Blood Jade suddenly falling deathly still-taken together, none of this could possibly be a coincidence.

Had Edgar acted behind the scenes to clear away his trouble?

Or had Vought International's Security Department eliminated the threat in advance?

Or was it John?

Meanwhile, in the President’s Office on the top floor of Vought Tower in central Manhattan.

Stan Edgar stood before the broad floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the city as it woke.

He held a cup of black coffee, wisps of steam curling upward.

The office door opened, and Madelyn walked in on high heels, carrying a top-secret briefing.

"Mr. President, the preliminary survey report from the Flushing explosion site is in."

Madelyn placed the report on his desk. "It was indeed a natural gas explosion. There were no traces of Compound V at the scene, nor any detectable signs of supernatural power fluctuations. Both bodies were heavily carbonized, but fragments of ritual implements confirmed they were the Onmyōji sent from Japan to cause trouble."

Edgar did not turn around, merely taking a calm sip of coffee. "What did Black Noir say?"

"Black Noir remained concealed near the Manor throughout last night. Nothing unusual happened."

Madelyn hesitated. "The surveillance footage also shows that Lynn and the boy stayed in their bedrooms at the Long Island Estate all night without taking a single step outside. It was practically a perfect accident. Those two Japanese men were simply too unlucky."

"A perfect accident?"

Edgar turned, an inscrutable gleam passing through his deep eyes. "There are very few true coincidences in this world, Madelyn. But since even Black Noir found no flaws, we'll treat it as an accident."

Madelyn nodded. "Then the stress test for Lynn..."

"The test is over."

Edgar set down his coffee cup, his tone level. "Since the trouble resolved itself, that means Lynn has either good luck or effective covert methods. His value has been preserved for now. Have Public Relations prepare the upcoming schedule. That appearance on the Texas border produced excellent results. It's time for our hero to expand his influence further."

Back at the Long Island Estate.

After breakfast, Lynn sat on the couch reading the newspaper, while John lay on the carpet, gently combing his fingers through Buddy's golden fur.

The living room's landline suddenly rang.

Lynn picked up, and Legend's raspy voice immediately came through, accompanied by the click of a lighter lighting a cigarette:

"Morning, Lynn. Footage of that operation on the Texas border is still playing on rotation across the major television networks. That suit looks absolutely perfect on camera. The higher-ups are very pleased with the current public opinion figures."

"Public Relations deserves credit for coordinating things, too." Lynn smiled, his gaze resting on John on the carpet.

"Don't be modest. But a hero can't live solely in news footage."

Legend blew a smoke ring and got to the point. "We've booked him for a special interview on 'Talk Show Night' tomorrow evening. It'll be his first public studio appearance since the Texas incident. We want him to show an approachable, humorous side without losing that sense of strength. Make every adult in the United States happy to spend money on him, and every child want to be him."

"Understood. I'll bring him there on time."

Lynn hung up and beckoned to John on the carpet.

"John, stop playing with the dog and come here."

Lynn raised the schedule in his hand. "There's an important television show tomorrow night. We're going to meet the ordinary people who like you and have a good chat about your suit and your bravery in Texas."

John looked up, his eyes brightening, then nodded obediently.

He knew that as long as he did what Lynn said and won the cheers of those people outside, they would become safer and safer in this world.