Abnormal Type-Moon

Roy quickly assessed the situation and issued commands.

"Aim for the camera we saw earlier—take it out!"

Without a word, Miss Okita crouched low before suddenly launching herself upward, landing effortlessly on the shoulder of the towering, ten-meter-tall automaton. In one fluid motion, she thrust her blade straight toward its head.

The metal automaton reacted instantly, swinging its steel-reinforced hand to swat at her.

"Okita, use Shukuchi!"

In an instant, Okita vanished from the camera's view.

The automaton froze in confusion.

Then—a blade flashed into frame.

With a sharp crack, the feed cut to static.

The automaton stood rigid, motionless.

When controlling puppets remotely, the one absolute necessity was maintaining their vision—this was the lesson Roy had learned from directing Miss Okita's movements. Applying the same logic, he reasoned that whoever was controlling these automatons would face the same limitation.

As it turned out, Roy's deduction was spot-on.

Once the camera was destroyed, the enemy lost all awareness of the battlefield. How could they fight when they couldn't even see?

"Impressive. You found my weak point in an instant. Hahahaha!"

A voice laced with admiration rang out from the wreckage of the decoy body on the ground.

"I won't forget you two—the world's top songstress, Sylvia Lyyneheym, and the cosplay-loving girl. As thanks for ruining my debut performance, let's meet again somewhere… and next time, I'll break you—"

Miss Okita landed and crushed the speaker underfoot.

She had zero interest in listening to his nonsense.

In the distance, Sylvia dashed across the arena, swinging the borrowed Lux weapon in her hands. Using her Meteor Arts, she severed the threads controlling the people around her.

As her prana swept past their ears, she detected a faint resistance. Realizing what it meant, she immediately broadcasted the discovery to everyone present.

With all the Genestellars working together, they soon managed to free every last person under control.

Meanwhile, the incident spread worldwide through the cameras of the numerous reporters on-site, sending shockwaves across the globe.

Countless individuals, nations, and organizations would be shaken by this event.

But for now, Okita had nothing to do with any of that.

Backstage at the Budokan.

Once the chaos had settled, Sylvia pulled Okita into her private dressing room.

"Thank you so much for today. I don't know what would've happened without you!"

In the spacious dressing room, Sylvia bowed deeply to Miss Okita.

Just thinking about the day's events made her entire body tremble.

Despite their swift response, many had still lost their lives in the attack. And those who survived would likely be haunted for the rest of their days by the trauma of being forced to kill.

Though the exact numbers hadn't been tallied yet, the death toll from this assault was undoubtedly significant.

Not only that, but if Miss Okita hadn't appeared like a divine intervention, even Sylvia herself would have been controlled by the enemy, forced to watch helplessly as she slaughtered innocent people!

The mere thought of this possibility filled Sylvia's heart with uncontrollable panic and fury.

This was no ordinary attack—it was a terrorist act!

Once this news broke, it would send shockwaves across the globe. Not just major nations, but even the six great conglomerates would turn their attention to it, issuing a worldwide manhunt for this terrorist.

And as the central figure in this incident, Sylvia would likely find herself drowning in a whirlpool of media scrutiny.

"Did you go up to the arena roof because you sensed those threads in advance?"

Sylvia took a deep breath, pushing aside the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind, and looked at Miss Okita with curiosity.

"I told you, the wind was particularly noisy today."

Miss Okita replied with an icy expression, maintaining her aloof demeanor.

Sylvia was deeply impressed by Miss Okita's ability to detect those threads beforehand.

But then she remembered how Miss Okita had failed to catch the ticket she'd thrown earlier, and her admiration suddenly waned a little.

This girl was undoubtedly strong.

Yet she also had her clumsy moments.

After mentally constructing this image, Sylvia began to see Miss Okita's aloofness as cat-like—outwardly indifferent, but probably brimming with inner thoughts.

How adorable!

"What's your name?"

The more Sylvia looked at Miss Okita, the more endearing she found her. The urge to befriend her grew irresistible, and Sylvia asked warmly.

"Okita Souji."

"?"

A hint of confusion flickered across Sylvia's face.

Though she wasn't well-versed in Japanese history, she at least knew that Okita Souji was a historical figure. Why would this girl have the same name as a historical person?

Was something wrong with her, or with this girl?

Her gaze then fell on the haori Miss Okita was wearing. She hadn't noticed before, but the girl seemed to be wearing geta, her perfectly rounded toes exposed to the open air.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

This girl must be a hardcore cosplay enthusiast!

"Miss Sylvia, the police are here. They'd like you to give a statement—and they'd like the young lady from earlier to come out too!"

A knock sounded at the door, followed by the voice of her female assistant.

"Understood."

Sylvia replied before turning back to Miss Okita.

Only to find her opening the window, preparing to make her escape.

"What are you doing?"

Sylvia hurried over.

"To be honest, I'm from a war-torn country. I'm undocumented here—I can't meet the police."

Miss Okita turned her head, her expression cold as she explained her predicament.

When Roy had arrived in this world, he'd taken care of his own paperwork—things like household registration were easy with his hypnosis skills. But he hadn't done the same for Miss Okita. After all, how could he have anticipated a situation like this back then?

Fortunately, in this world, due to deliberate manipulation by the conglomerates, some regions still experience frequent wars. In such places with incomplete government functions, it's quite common to find unregistered Genestellars who have fallen through the cracks.

And indeed, Miss Okita's past era was rather chaotic—that much was true.

"You've had it rough too."

Sylvia covered her lips, her expression a mix of helplessness and a hint of apology.

"I understand. You don't have to leave—just stay here with me. I'll tell the police you've already gone. Without any identification, it'd be difficult for you to go anywhere, wouldn't it?"

"Then I'll leave it to you."

After a moment's thought, Miss Okita didn't refuse. She returned to her chair and sat upright with perfect posture.

Come to think of it, Sylvia was a student at Queenvail Girls' Academy, wasn't she?

To be honest, he was a little curious about that special admission student at Queenvail.

In that case—

***

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