ACT II (1)
To put it bluntly, the Director was a certified attention whore — and everyone knew it.
The problem was that he was also deeply sadistic, highly intelligent, and an ideological criminal. If you had to classify him with a technical term, he was what you'd call a performance terrorist. In other words, a complete fucking lunatic who committed acts of terror not for the sake of killing or destruction itself, but to deliver a message to the public.
That was why the Director's opening move was never an attack. Just as countless performances opened with an intriguing scene designed to draw the audience in, he always laid the groundwork first. The drone suicide attack I'd experienced in this life had been a genuine surprise. Most of the time, he used media outlets to draw as much attention as possible.
And now, he had issued me that arrogantly titled declaration of war: Next Act. Given his nature, he probably wouldn't launch another one-dimensional attack against me. Why? Because my intent to lure him out had been far too obvious. My attempt to separate him from G.A. and Napalm had been plain as day.
So what he would do was probably—
—Static.
"...It's started."
I'd expected it would come when those two were together, just like this.
"W-what the hell is that?"
Eclipse stared at the strange scene unfolding on the PAX Corporation event grounds, clearly rattled.
"...The Director. That bastard who almost killed us."
"What, Gearhead — you've seen this guy before too?"
"Why do you think Jun's been hanging around here? More than half the reason is probably that bastard."
"...Huh."
Even as the two of them talked, I didn't take my eyes off the TV screen. I needed to find the points of similarity. I sorted through the countless memories of my past life, cataloging everything that piece of trash had done. What was he going to do? What was his goal?
And then... a single scene rose to the surface of my mind.
He had revealed himself in the middle of a PAX event venue.
Then, before countless cameras and citizens, he had begun speaking as if launching into a performance.
After that, he had pointed a finger at the PAX heroes present and provoked them.
Naturally, Napalm — who had been there — couldn't endure the provocation.
"Oh, is that so? You fucking bastard, your guts are hanging out of your belly, huh?"
She had immediately punched a precise flame attack straight through his gut. But that... hadn't been him. It had been something closer to a suicide doll wearing a human face.
—BOOOOM——!!
"Uh...?"
The bomb built into the doll had detonated immediately after. It had left countless civilian casualties in its wake, and become the catalyst that further inflamed Napalm's pride and inferiority complex.
And on the screen I was watching right now—
—BOOOM——!!
A drop pod slammed down into the event grounds from the sky.
And then, someone emerged from within.
Same structure. Showmanship designed to seize the attention of the masses, followed by provocation. And a counterfeit of himself, presented so that people would believe it was the real him. He was waiting for Napalm and Great America to make a move. Once again, he was trying to create a scene where a hero's attack killed civilians.
But I had absolutely no intention of letting that scene play out again.
"Hope."
"I know."
Hope pulled away the black cover draped over one corner of the factory. Underneath sat a black motorcycle of rather crude design.
"Auto-control, firearms, bulletproof, blast-resistant. It's still unfinished, but it'll do the job."
"Perfect."
I settled onto the bike.
—VRRROOOM——!
And kicked the engine to life.
"W-wait a second. You're going there right now?"
"Yes."
Eclipse stared at me with an incredulous look.
"Are you insane? It's obviously a trap! You said you've met him before! And wasn't that whole 'fitting actor' crap he said about you?"
"That's exactly why I have to go."
"What?"
"That man looks at the actors more than the audience. And right now, the actor he most wants to see is me."
"You really are crazy."
"Yes. Which makes me the perfect bait."
I answered Eclipse with an unchanging expression.
"Th-then I'll come with—"
"—No, Eclipse. Don't worry about that scene. Focus on the defensive magic here. It could be a diversion."
—VRRROOOOM———!!
At the same time, I gunned the motorcycle and headed for the scene. The streets of New York filled my vision as the motorcycle tore through the air.
In my previous life, Napalm had fallen further apart after that day. In my previous life, Great America had grown even more violent after that day. I had no intention of watching that kind of garbage play out again.
...One win, zero losses, was it, Director?
I would take the victory again.
"From this moment on, follow my instructions."
The moment that voice came through the communicator, the flames rising from Napalm's fingertips froze. Great America, too, stopped mid-step right where she stood.
"...Jun?"
Napalm murmured the name without thinking. Under normal circumstances, she would have punched straight through that man's gut. He had seized control of the display boards, made them his own, and provoked them. And from the drop pod that had fallen from the sky, a figure wearing a mask that all but declared itself to be him had emerged. And yet the fact that she had stopped at his command... was a strangely novel sensation.
"Napalm. Don't attack."
"That bastard is right in front of me and you want me to just stand here and watch?"
"Yes, because that isn't the Director. It's a counterfeit. High probability of a self-destruct device."
Napalm's expression hardened at those words. If what he said was true — if she had acted first, a catastrophe would have unfolded for certain. An explosion, with people still trembling like that all around them? Just imagining it was horrifying.
But unlike Napalm's reaction, Great America didn't change her expression at all as she looked toward the spectator stands.
"Jun."
"Yes."
"What should I destroy?"
She asked him what she should do.
"Don't destroy anything."
"..."
Once again, he was giving her a rather difficult order. Great America's fingers kept twitching. The enemy was right in front of her, the citizens were cheering, and the reporters wouldn't lower their cameras.
"E-everyone get out of here! It's dangerous!!"
No matter how hard Napalm tried to guide the evacuation—
"PAX really spent some money on this one!"
"They had tech like this? Maybe I should invest."
They watched the Director's actions... as if they were truly watching a "performance."
So wasn't there a simple, clear solution? Destroying it. Grabbing that thing before it could do anything, flying up into the air, and letting it detonate in the sky.
But—
"This time, we protect."
When she heard that order from Hajun, Great America had no choice but to loosen the strength in her fist for a moment.
And at the same time, the Director on the display board burst into laughter. His voice rang out across the entire venue.
Then the counterfeit's gaze left Napalm and Great America. That gaze turned toward the outside of the venue — toward the black motorcycle approaching on the road.
"Hey, hey...! Jun, you're in dang—"
Napalm, watching this, tried to shout urgently over the communicator—
"Don't look away. I'm the bait. Great America, civilian rescue. Napalm, counterfire. Now!"
"W-what?"
Hajun's voice was utterly calm and composed, as if soothing them.
"...!"
Coming to their senses, they saw a red light flash from inside the counterfeit's chest.
—Beep, beep, beep——!
A short, sharp warning tone. In that instant, Napalm gritted her teeth and thrust out her hand.
"Seriously... what a pain in the ass!"
Her flames surged upward, blocking off the direction the explosion would spread.
—FWOOOOSH———!
At the same time, Great America leapt in front of the spectator stands.
"Waa—aaah——?!"
To stop the surging crowd, catch those who fell, and stand in the path of the blast pressure.
And then—
—BOOOOOOOOM———!!
When the counterfeit finally exploded—
"Wh-what?!"
"I-it actually explod—"
The explosion did not swallow the spectator stands. Napalm's flames pushed the heat and smoke upward. Great America's body absorbed the remaining impact and shrapnel. Screams erupted. But no one fell.
In that moment, a black motorcycle slid into the venue, cutting through the smoke of the explosion—
—SCREEECH——!
The front of the bike slammed straight into the still-moving remains of the counterfeit.
—CRUNCH——!
The remains were driven into the ground. And on top of them, Hajun slowly dismounted.
"Napalm, Great America. Prepare for the next one."
Because—
—Static crackle——
The drones that had been concealed—
—were revealing themselves.
Of course, Hajun was not letting his guard down in the slightest.
"Napalm, intercept the drones. Great America, keep rescuing. Maintain this approach. I'll handle any unexpected variables."