A Plan in the Shadows
At those words, everyone turned to look at Kamisato Ayato.
Faced with their expectant gazes, Ayato offered a faint smile. "I do have a plan that should prove workable — though it will require Lady Lesser Lord Kusanali's assistance." He glanced toward Xia Yu. "Which means, Traveler, I'm afraid you'll need to make a trip to the base in a couple of days."
"Bringing Nahida over is no trouble, but..." Xia Yu thought of Nahida's power over dreams, and her eyes narrowed. "Ayato, you're not planning to have everyone watch the match inside a dream, are you?"
"And what would be wrong with that?" Ayato arched an eyebrow. "Treating the whole crowd to an evening of dreamlike spectacle — surely that's something they'd remember for the rest of their lives. Excellent publicity, wouldn't you say?"
"But there's a hole in that plan." Xia Yu pointed out the flaw. "A scene like that would exist only in people's memories. The cameras and video equipment the audience and the TV stations bring would capture nothing at all, and someone is bound to notice something's off."
"That's where Noah's Ark comes in." Ayato refined the plan step by step. "As the crowd enters, we inspect the audience's electronic devices on the grounds of preventing accidents — and while we're at it, install a small plugin in each one. That way, when the performance ends, Noah's Ark can quietly load everything that was 'recorded' back onto the cameras and video equipment. It would also stop anyone with ill intent from causing trouble — or capturing things they were never meant to capture."
That, at least, sounded feasible enough.
But the mention of "anyone with ill intent" piqued Xia Yu's curiosity. "Oh, right — the incident at the finals venue earlier. Did you ever find out who was behind it?"
"Rest assured, we did. And they've already been served a little appetizer. The main course, however, will wait until the finals are over — then we shall invite them to savor it properly." Ayato's voice dipped lower with every word.
Meanwhile, in a shadowed corner of an old manor, an exasperated voice rang out.
"Idiots! You can't even manage a simple task! All this time, and not only have you failed to locate the finals venue for whatever this event is supposed to be, you actually let that boy from the Kamisato Clan trace it back to us! You swore you hadn't left a single clue behind!"
The voice was aged, thick with fury and contempt.
"I... I don't understand it either, my lord. We truly left no trace — not even the police realized it was us. Perhaps the boy simply got lucky, a blind cat stumbling over a dead mouse, and now he's wary of your power, so he..." The other man's words stumbled and stuttered, guilt dripping from every syllable.
The old master had no patience for his underling's excuses and cut him off flatly. "Silence! If you were so uncertain, would he have gone to the expense of hiring the Jade Chamber's people to sever their partnership with our company?!"
"And that woman Ningguang is a meddlesome one, too. What business is it of hers what happens between us and the Kamisato Clan? Clearly, someone ought to teach her a lesson."
At that point, the elderly master's voice softened. "So — how did this latest operation go? Don't tell me you can't even handle one woman."
At that, the underling's voice grew even guiltier, quavering as he stammered out his answer. "I — I saw that Ningguang always has people around her, so, so I switched targets. I, I figured that Ganyu looked soft and frail — she's Ningguang's secretary, after all — surely an easy mark..."
"And? Did you bring her back?" The old master's patience was spent; he demanded the result outright.
Ningguang, Ganyu — even that mute one, Keqing, would have done. Surely they could manage to succeed at something.
Pressed by his master, the underling swallowed hard, his voice beginning to shake. "Th-that woman — that Ganyu — she's, she's a monster! I saw it with my own eyes! That woman, she — she pulled a bow out of thin air! And then, and then it started hailing from a clear sky..."
His words tumbled out in a hopeless jumble, raw fear bleeding through them.
"Enough! Stop spinning fairy tales!" The master slammed his palm against the table, glaring at the man before him. His eyes burned with disappointment and fury — clearly, he found this ridiculous excuse beyond tolerating.
But the underling refused to give up, still scrambling to defend himself. "It's the truth, I swear it! Even now my men are laid up in the hospital with frostbite and broken bones!"
He tried to explain, but the master cut him off without a moment's hesitation, waving a hand and speaking in a voice gone ice-cold. "I will give you one final chance. I do not want their finals to go ahead smoothly."
"If you fail me this time..."
The aged voice trailed off there, leaving the threat unspoken — but its tone had grown so cruel, so unyielding, that it sent a chill crawling down the spine.