Chapter 320: Picking a Fight Will Piss Off Even a Sleeping Bear (1)
Miho seized the wind and flew us toward the blue-tiled roofs of the Blue House, faster than I could sprint along a Wall of Space. Someone must have taken the approach for an aberrant attack. An alarm siren began to scream, sharp enough to sting the ears.
"Oh my. They seem to think it's an aberrant attack."
— Keep going?
"Keep going. If they open fire, stop."
Ability users armed with every piece of gear the Blue House owned came pouring out, and Miho glanced back at me. I signaled her to hold course.
Forty-two of them spilled into the open and formed up in swift, practiced motions. Two broke off and sprinted back inside.
Within seconds they had a V, its point aimed straight at us, and without a word of warning they started launching elemental rounds and projectiles our way.
The instant the attack began, just as I'd told her, Miho halted in midair and wrapped the whole of the space around us in fire and wind. Whenever she called on her power, glittering dust seemed to shed from her tails, and now two of them shimmered—one red, one green.
"Oh, Miho, you're incredible. I didn't even tell you to, and you put up a barrier."
— Hehe.
I'd been about to raise a Wall of Space myself, but she'd beaten me to the shield, so I praised her and meant it. Elemental rounds and bundles of projectiles laced with TP hammered the barrier. Between us and the government ability users, I formed a Wall of Space into a flat rectangular plate.
Most of the forty were D-Class. Only four had reached C-Class, so nothing they threw was going to punch through Miho's barrier. We hadn't come here to fight.
Fire rounds, water rounds, wind blades, earth spears—a fair number of them came screaming in, and the moment the Wall of Space deployed, the attack stopped dead, exactly as I'd intended. They'd recognized it. Of course they had.
And the security force was shabbier than I'd expected. I started to worry about Youngeun.
Against ordinary humans it would be more than enough, and Youngeun herself was B-Class, but even so...
Once I confirmed the attack had ceased, I dismissed the Wall of Space. That was when Miho, glaring at the Blue House guards huddled in an awkward cluster, started to growl, low and savage. Being shot at had clearly not agreed with her.
I scratched her neck and soothed her while she wrinkled her brow as far as it would go and bared her teeth.
"It's all right. Those people are weak. They aren't dangerous. Be good?"
— Mmm...
"Let's head down."
Miho, her scowl only half undone, descended slowly onto the lawn before the Blue House, just as I'd told her. The government ability users had gathered in a ring—whether to surround us or simply to stare, I couldn't tell—and through them stepped a man who looked to be in his mid-forties, an Elemental ability user at the very bottom of C-Class.
For the face he wore, the gray at his temples and through his forelock was far too much. The middle-aged man broke the silence with care.
"Are you the chairman of Grand Blue?"
"That's right. I've come to see the President."
At the voice threaded with Mana Voice, his shoulders jumped. A flicker of agitation crossed his face, and then he had his composure back almost at once.
"You can't simply arrive like this, however you please. An appointment ought to be arranged beforehand. A person of your social standing, forcing your way in with a tamed aberrant in tow—it's unacceptable."
He scolded me with a stern face, the way an adult lectures a child who's done wrong. Point by point, every word of it was correct, and I had nothing to say for myself. If he thought I was about to answer Ah, yes, of course and turn around, he had another thing coming.
I fixed the middle-aged man—the one who looked like their leader—with a perfectly shameless stare. He let out a pained groan, then asked me to wait a moment.
I nodded, obedient. Relieved, he turned and sent another guard into the Blue House with orders to inform the President that this had not been an aberrant attack, but a visit from the chairman of Grand Blue.
I didn't climb down from Miho's back. Instead I swept the interior of the Blue House with Spatial Perception. Youngeun was in a wide, spacious conference room with fifteen others, and she looked as if she'd been about to evacuate—documents and booklets in hand, already moving.
They must have been in a meeting. Papers of every sort were piled across the desks that filled half a room that wasn't small, and what seemed to be video-conference gear—cables and cameras—lay in a tangle across the floor.
The ceiling was roughly seven meters high. The conference table was a broad U, which meant I could Space Leap into the center of the room without trouble.
Youngeun and the fifteen with her, just about to leave the room, stopped with puzzled faces when the siren's sharp wail cut off. Through Spatial Perception I watched her snap an order at the Physical Reinforcement aide beside her, her expression keen—and Miho turned her head to look at me.
— Hey~. Those people attacked us. Aren't we gonna scold them?
At that, I looked down at the Blue House guards. They'd been staring with open envy at the sight of me mounted on snow-white Miho, blue light spilling off my whole body, clad in a sleek set of black translucent plate armor—and now they flinched.
They weren't civilians. They were ability users, and having that kind of naked stare turned on me left me oddly ticklish.
Anyway. I was watching the ability users shrink back, turning over how to make her understand, when Franc stroked the bridge of Miho's nose and spoke.
"Miho, if a thief broke into our house, what would you do?"
— I'd scold them!
"That's right, isn't it? Try seeing it from their side. To those people, this place is their house, and they were trying to scold us so they could protect it."
— So we don't scold them?
Franc explained it gently to Miho, who had asked with her head cocked.
Her body had grown, but her head hadn't caught up yet. She still seemed to sort the whole world into two boxes. Franc must have realized it too, because she unpacked the situation in careful detail so Miho could follow.
"Do you understand? They were doing what they were supposed to do. We showed up uninvited, out of nowhere. It isn't strange that they mistook us for thieves."
— Uuung. Is that so...?
The government ability users, who had been standing at an awkward distance through Franc and Miho's exchange, started glancing at Miho in surprise and murmuring to the people beside them. Curious what they were saying, I stole the words off their lips.
"Miho? Wasn't Miho the name of that six-tailed kid the Grand Blue chairman keeps around?"
"What's the connection? You don't think that kid transformed into this?"
"Does that even make sense? That fox has seven tails."
"She could've evolved in the meantime."
"And why haven't you made C-Class in the meantime?"
"Picking a fight out of nowhere."
"That's how nonsense it is, dumbass."
"Wait. The High-Tier Variant Black-Blood Fox is a six-tailed fox, isn't it? Then this Miho, a seven-tailed fox—what grade would that make her?"
"...Good question?"
"If that fox is the same individual as the Miho we know, they said at the Grand Blue raid team's founding ceremony that she was a High Grade subspecies. Grow one more tail, and she'd be a Superior subspecies. Subspecies sit one tier higher, so that would make her a Calamity-rank... aberrant."
The decent-looking male ability user wore a dumbfounded expression, as if he couldn't believe the conclusion that had just come out of his own mouth.
"It isn't impossible. Did you see that barrier of fire and wind just now? The elemental density was thicker than a B-Class ability user's barrier."
"Not one of our skills got through, so it wouldn't be wrong to call her a Calamity-rank aberrant..."
The ability users fell silent for a moment. Then a lively woman—gray threaded through her hair, green strands just beginning to grow in—opened her mouth as if the sight had moved her.
"So people at the chairman's level ride aberrants like that. The class gap is unreal."
"People joke that if every ability user on Earth fought the chairman, the chairman would win. I understand why they say it."
"More than that, what's that translucent armor the chairman's wearing? It's so fucking cool. I wonder what it's made of."
An ordinary security detail could never have carried on like this—an atmosphere so free it bordered on license. These were ability users with strong egos, and their attitude was remarkably light. The guards who weren't ability users, gathered on the second line, were another matter. They watched us with rigid, wary postures.
I half wished the middle-aged man who looked like their captain would rein them in. His face only said he hoped we would simply go home, and he made no move to stop the others.
That was when I saw the government ability user who had run inside, reporting to Youngeun that I had arrived.
The message had been delivered. I could go in. I gave the middle-aged man a bright smile, then beckoned Franc closer.
"Then I'll see you next time."
I waved at the bewildered man, took Franc's hand as she drew near, and unfolded a Space Leap with Miho into the conference room where Youngeun was.
"I apologize for the commo—?!"
So this was a Blue House conference room. I revealed myself by Space Leap in a chamber that caught the refined elegance of a traditional Korean hanok, and Youngeun—who had been sitting down and just opening her mouth—stared at me, eyes blown wide.
The ministers, vice ministers, and aides in black suits startled at my sudden appearance and at the sight of enormous Miho, shot to their feet, and scrambled back. Ability-user guards who had been waiting outside came pouring in.
"Hello."
I waved to tell them not to tense up. Youngeun broke into a helpless laugh, called the guards off, and gestured for the startled ministers to sit.
"Hey, Miho. Don't step on things and break them."
A machine crunched and shattered under her forepaw, and when I warned her she lifted the paw and whined.
— Eeng. I lifted it right away...
"Nudge it off to the side."
— Uuung.
As Miho tried to sweep the cables aside with her forepaw, a young woman and a few men in suits—a little older than me—startled and came running to tidy the lines.
Did professional duty outrank the threat of death? The other ministers flinched and had no thought of coming closer.
I was watching them crouch and scramble to clean up when Youngeun, smiling as if nothing were unusual, glanced once behind me and asked.
"Chairman Jeong, what brings you here?"
Something behind me? I turned. A pure-white flat panel filled one entire wall, and on it—splitting the screen cleanly in half—were the Russian president, that fiercely strong face I sometimes saw on the internet, and the old American president.
Both of them had their eyes wide, drinking in the sight of me and Miho. I put that side of the room out of mind and spoke to Youngeun.
"I heard two container freighters went down in the Pacific after a Calamity-rank aberrant attacked them. I was curious how the situation was developing, so I came. The Pacific is a place with a great deal to do with our country, after all."
"That is..."
"Ho. I had no idea a chairman so young took such an interest in international security."
Who was cutting in while my Youngeun was speaking?
I turned. The American president was sending me a sharp look, his expression somehow contemptuous. As if he were analyzing me.
I studied him in turn, letting interest show on my face.
Maybe it was the thinning white hair, but he looked seventy. I'd expected a president to radiate some crushing presence. He looked like nothing but an old money-grubbing geezer.
I shrugged at the condescending air.
"What's concerning isn't international security. It's a Calamity-rank aberrant that failed a raid, got thoroughly pissed off, and will have grown stronger."
At the counter, the Russian president's face showed interest as well. Wondering whether Youngeun had something she wanted to say, I held the American president's gaze and checked her with Spatial Perception. Her mind seemed to be spinning hard, fixed on the exchange between me and the American president.
"Hahaha. Your English is as fluent as I've heard. But listen. Outstanding though your abilities may be, you are still only B-Class, are you not? The G.S. raid team operating in the United States has an A-Class ability user, and numerous capable B-Class ability users besides. I think it is too soon to jump to a conclusion worth raising concern over."
President Donald Trumpet, confident that if the Pacific Fleet sortied as well, a Calamity-rank aberrant could be handled without difficulty, leaned back on his sofa and looked down on President Puchin and our Youngeun with an arrogant expression.
That—unofficial trilateral summit or not, wasn't the posture far too insolent?
And he was talking down to me without so much as an introduction. My internal score for him had already dropped a fair amount over the stories of him slighting Youngeun...
I wanted to tear into him. Did he think I was some ordinary B-Class? Had he not even watched the Grand Turtle hunt? But for Youngeun's dignity, I would behave for now. Smashing him could always wait until later.
Instead, I'd record every second and dump it on the internet. Youngeun's handling of this was textbook. If what happened here got out, she wouldn't be the one taking the heat.
I was calculating inwardly and settling on a course when the American president, apparently deciding his words had left me with nothing to say, spoke in a belittling tone.
"And yet President Puchin, who might be called the master of the Eurasian continent, opposes it so, and President Yu Youngeun—being a woman, I suppose—seems to have a great many worries. Well, well. Heh heh heh."
Well, what? Heh heh? And had he just subtly looked down on my Youngeun?
Watching him shrug, lift both hands a little, and push his lips out in that obnoxious pout, I wanted to fly over and blow the White House off the map right then. Puchin and Youngeun seemed to feel no differently. Their expressions had crumpled.
I was irritated too, but I managed my face on purpose and opened my mouth with a bright, easy grin.
"Then do as you like. It's absurd that a president's eye would file me with any other ordinary B-Class, but if you're confident it's possible, what am I supposed to do about it."
Then I set my expression and went on in a cold voice.
A Transcendental aberrant—the grade immediately beneath Phase-grade. Like Phase-grade, it was a rank that had never once been discovered in the history of phase studies, a grade that existed only as a word, thanks to the S-Class ability user Jeral Packard.
The moment the words Transcendental aberrant left my mouth, President Puchin's expression and Youngeun's turned grave. President Trumpet's didn't change at all. Whatever he was trusting in.
I was curious what the people around that man looked like, too, but the feed was locked on Trumpet's face alone. I couldn't tell.
"Hahaha. A Transcendental aberrant? That strikes me as rather an excessive expression. And this claim that the aberrant you described absorbs an ability user's Phase Power—that is your assertion alone, is it not? Many scientists and scholars are in the midst of verifying and researching the theory you advanced, but word has it the thing isn't realistic."
Oh, how generous. The bastard had suddenly dropped to talking down at me? I was annoyed enough already...
"So handle it yourselves. If the Blade Flyer becomes a Transcendental aberrant, takes the Pacific, and stretches its territory all the way to the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic, the mighty United States will just take care of it, won't you? And if our country gets hurt because of that, I'll herd that thing up and shove it onto American soil."
At the words—formal courtesy laced with open contempt—this side of the conference room went dead silent. The murmuring I could hear now had to be coming from President Puchin's side, or else from President Trumpet's.
I climbed down from Miho's back, stroked her face, told her to go sit behind Youngeun, and approached Youngeun slowly, conscious of the angle Franc was filming.
Miho lifted her body with elegant grace, set down behind Youngeun, and half-lay as if to protect her. Then she brushed Youngeun lightly with the tip of a tail, a show of familiarity.
I gave the seven swaying tails a glance. Then, right in front of Youngeun—and making very sure it would be seen—I poured out a heap of Phase Stones I'd brought from home, Superior-grade and High Grade both.
From where I stood, the presidents and the footage Franc was recording would catch every one of them.
Fist-sized Superior-grade stones blazed with the lucid brilliance of blue diamonds. The High Grade stones couldn't match them, but they still shed a fierce, quiet blue light. At the sight of the pile, President Puchin's face and President Trumpet's changed all at once.
Heh heh heh. Look at those greedy eyes. Jealous? Of course you are.
More than a few dozen Phase Stones. At the weight of their presence, every gaze sharpened—enemy and ally alike—and Youngeun couldn't hide the worried face that asked why I was doing this. Her eyes moved from the stones to me and back again.
Why else. To put a check on the United States, busy tormenting our Youngeun and getting ready to pull something insane—and to get under their skin while I was at it.
"There's no need to keep Phase Stones locked away anymore, so sell them off as they come, and before the United States launches its raid, buy up basic industrial materials. Enough that you won't have to worry for a few years, at least."
"Basic industrial materials... Chairman Jeong, do you anticipate that the sea routes will become unusable?"
Perhaps because the other presidents were present, she didn't call me Seoha. She used the highest honorific. I was about to nod when the American president, Donald Trumpet, fixed me with an intense look and opened his mouth.
"The chairman of Grand Blue seems to think we are going to fail the raid."
"Don't talk down to me. Mister, do you know me? Why are you speaking so carelessly? Even the Queen of England treats me with respect, and the First Lady is careful with me, and this mister here is a strange mister."
I tossed the words out in a slouching, mannerless way, as if I couldn't believe the nerve of him, and President Trumpet's face began to redden.
According to the account Youngeun had given me, he hadn't struck me as an incompetent man—so was he looking down on me because I wasn't white? Or because I was a kid?
Either way, it was plainly an attitude unbecoming of the president of a country called the United States.
"And last August, you sent some ugly woman—a deputy assistant whatever-it-was—to try and seduce me as a honey trap, didn't you? Along with someone who was a sub-manager of the G.S. raid team or something. I don't know what you were trusting, pulling a stunt that brainless, but I don't think particularly well of you, mister. So let's part with some manners, before either of us has to go red in the face. OK?"
President Puchin lifted one corner of his mouth in a grin, as if my attitude were genuinely entertaining, and smiled. Youngeun covered her face with both hands and bowed her head to the table.
My wholehearted, lounging disrespect must have struck a nerve. President Trumpet's face stiffened for an instant. Then his eyes sharpened, and he opened his mouth toward me.