Chapter 23: A Ceiling Not So Unfamiliar

In the pitch-black space, Yuki stood there, lost and bewildered. He had no idea where he was, nor how he had come to be there...

Was this... a dream?

Before him stood a simple full-length mirror, identical in style to the one in his own home. Yet, something was off about this mirror. Nothing was reflected in its glass—no image of Yuki himself, nor any sign of the mysterious Torekia. The surface revealed nothing but darkness.

"You cannot save anything. You are simply too weak."

"Mm."

"..."

Perhaps Yuki's acceptance was too straightforward, for the voice fell silent, unsure how to respond.

But Yuki was in no hurry; he simply remained where he was, waiting until the voice sounded again.

"Do you desire power?"

This time, the words echoed, though the previous ones had not.

"And the price? What is the price?"

Yuki's quick reply silenced the mysterious voice once more. After speaking, he lowered his head with a quiet chuckle to himself, "All of this...? I shouldn't have expected you to play along. That's my mistake."

"You do not want it?"

"I do, but I refuse a free lunch. When someone offers kindness for no reason, it is rarely innocent."

With those words, Yuki's consciousness sank once more into the chaotic sea of thought. When he awoke again, what greeted his eyes was...

A ceiling that was no longer so unfamiliar.

At that moment, Officer Sakura entered the hospital room. Seeing Yuki awake, he wasn’t overly surprised. He stopped Yuki from trying to get up and sat by the bedside, patiently recounting what had happened after Yuki had lost consciousness.

After he had collapsed beside the giant beast that day, the rescue team rushed to the scene and brought him back to the hospital he had left only two days prior.

This time, Officer Sakura handled the admission paperwork. The doctor at the registration desk glanced at the familiar medical file and cast a curious look at Sakura—wondering how someone discharged just the day before was now being admitted again.

Yuki only slept for a few hours before awakening. His injuries, apart from various abrasions, were most severe in the form of several fractured ribs, though not critical; after examination, the doctor declared that neither surgery nor a cast was needed—bed rest would suffice.

For a moment, Yuki’s mind went blank. After a long pause, he asked in confusion,

"...Where’s Tiny?"

Officer Sakura paused. Who was "Tiny"? But after studying Yuki’s expression and letting his imagination wander, Sakura realized Yuki was referring to the giant beast.

They had barely met a few times, and yet the child had already given it a name—and such a wildly inaccurate one at that. But it was clear Yuki felt some affection for the beast. Sakura pondered for a moment, then replied,

"Still at the port; it hasn’t been moved."

At those words, Yuki’s face darkened. Was this a gentle way of telling him Tiny was already dead...?

He calmed the tremor in his heart and changed the subject. "And the pilot—of the fighter jet?"

Seeing Yuki’s pallor and the hint of moisture in his eyes, Officer Sakura answered, "He’s been rescued... and is still in the emergency room."

So in the end, he hadn’t saved anything.

Realizing that his reckless actions had only reduced the hospital’s available beds and accomplished nothing good, Yuki felt a wave of disappointment.

Sakura patted Yuki’s shoulder, adding a word of comfort, "Thanks to you, the pilot was taken to the hospital in time. He should recover—you don’t need to worry."

Yuki could only nod, then seemed to remember something and reached inside his coat, only to find nothing.

"Officer Sakura, the thing I found..."

He gestured the shape of a small box. Sakura’s expression grew serious as he asked, "You mean the chip you were holding? It’s already been sent to the Foreign Affairs Unknown Division... And that remote-control-like object—what exactly is it?"

Yuki considered for a moment, reviewing the information he had gathered, and answered thoughtfully, "The remote was taken from those three aliens. They can be interrogated. As for the chip, I saw a metallic gleam in the wound on Tiny’s—on the beast’s head. It looked like some artificial object embedded there. So I climbed up and managed to remove it. Was it a chip? I didn’t have time to examine it closely..."

Sakura grew angry at this point. "You weren’t even sure what it was, and you acted so recklessly! That was a giant monster—dozens of meters tall—and you just jumped down from that height! Did you know you nearly gave us all a heart attack?!"

Sprayed with Sakura’s angry words, Yuki knew he was at fault and could only shrink back in apology. After venting his frustration, Sakura sighed and said nothing more. Yuki fell silent as well.

...

...

Meanwhile, far away in a conference room of the Foreign Affairs Unknown Division, darkness prevailed. Only the embedded electronic screen in the wall cast any light, repeatedly playing a video clearly taken from a surveillance camera.

The footage showed a figure in a blue uniform standing on the maintenance platform of a communications tower, gripping the railing and scanning anxiously below, as if searching for something.

At that moment, King Glass straightened up, and the person quickly vaulted over the railing, tracing an arc through the air before landing on King Glass’s back with a cushioning posture.

He clung to the beast’s spines and scales, climbing another half meter toward the prominent wound on its head, barely managing to hang on.

But after less than five seconds, his entire body suddenly seemed drained of strength, and he tumbled from King Glass.

The video showed clearly how he fell, striking the beast’s limbs five or six times before hitting the ground. A data window appeared on the screen, displaying the velocity at the instant of impact.

It was a speed likely to cause serious injury; if he landed on his head, death could have been instantaneous.

Yet, after lying on the ground for a few seconds, the man struggled to his feet.

The video ended there.

A hand picked up a dossier from the ta