The One Who Noticed the Transitory

The counterfeit notes trickled into circulation exactly as planned—quietly, steadily.

I stood atop the Clock Tower in full John Smith Mode. As I gazed down at the night cityscape pulsing with an unprecedented economic boom, I looked right through it, seeing the secret organization's scheme lurking beneath the surface.

"In the end, it’s all just a passing dream..."

I let a meaningful smirk play on my lips.

I wonder who’ll be the first to catch wind of our little "plan"? To someone like John Smith, who already knows how the script ends, this fleeting interval is nothing but a bore.

I was zoning out and enjoying the night view when I spotted a lone carriage slipping out of the Royal Capital. I also caught sight of three dark figures tailing it from the shadows.

"I see... Just as I thought, they’re the first to notice..."

I leaped from the Clock Tower to pursue them.

I didn’t recognize the silhouettes of the three shadows, but one look at those slime bodysuits told me everything I needed to know. Figures—they were moving for the sake of the Mitsugoshi Company. Well, I had my own agenda to follow.

Oh, wait. I do recognize one of them. Glad to see she’s doing alright.

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Number 664 kept her eyes on the carriage as it crept out of the capital under the cover of night. She glanced back, glaring at Number 666.

"Number 666, I am being dead serious—no acting on your own. Got it? I’m the Squad Leader, so you follow my orders."

"I understand."

"No, you clearly don’t, which is why I’m saying it! Even the other day, you just charged in by yourself... It worked out in the end, sure, but what is the rush?"

"It’s... nothing."

Number 666 looked down, her denial brief.

"There you go again, keeping it all inside. I can't know what's going through your head if you won't talk to me."

"Number 664, let’s just focus on the mission for now."

"Yes, fine, you’re right. Totally. But I’m only giving this warning because I want to focus on the mission without someone running off on their own!"

Number 664 looked away from Number 666 and let out a heavy sigh. Just then, she heard a yawn from behind her.

"Hey! Number 665, did you just yawn?"

Number 664 whipped around again, this time pinning Number 665 with a glare.

"Nope, wasn't meee."

"It was! I definitely heard it! You need to focus too, honestly. I already explained how important this mission is, didn't I?"

"Okaaaaay."

Ignoring Number 665’s listless reply, Number 664 turned her attention back to the carriage ahead.

Their objective this time was to locate the source of the Great Commerce Alliance’s counterfeit notes that had recently begun flooding the market. Gamma of the Seven Shadows had narrowed down the suspicious routes, and the carriage ahead was one of the primary leads.

The girls had been entrusted with the hit. It was a mission handed down directly from the Seven Shadows; failure wasn't an option. She understood why everyone was so tense.

And that was exactly why Number 664 was worried.

Number 666 was clearly impatient. Everyone acknowledged her combat prowess, and it was a known fact that this squad received high marks largely because of her. However, her tendency to act alone had become impossible to ignore lately.

Number 664 didn't know what was driving her, but at this rate, she was going to slip up eventually. And in their line of work, some mistakes were final. One wrong move meant losing your life...

Number 664 prayed for the mission to end safely and sharpened her focus.

But her prayer went unanswered.

"Down!"

Number 666’s shout came out of nowhere.

The girls reacted instantly, leaping into the air. But Number 666 was the only one who made it in time.

"Kya?!"

"Ugh!"

Number 664 and Number 665 were tripped by something and went down hard. As they scrambled to their feet after taking break-falls, they realized thin, thread-like strands were tangled around their legs.

"Is this... wire?"

"Looks like steel wire infused with magic power..." Number 665 answered.

The two sliced through the threads with their slime swords and braced for an attack. Ahead of them, Number 666 already had her blade drawn, glaring into the depths of the darkness.

They couldn't sense a presence at all.

Then, a man stepped out from the midnight gloom. He approached with the steady, rhythmic clack, clack of boots hitting hard earth.

He wore a sharp suit, his black hair slicked back. His face was obscured by a cold, expressionless mask. He appeared to be empty-handed, carrying no visible weapons.

But when the girls strained their eyes, they saw it—threads surrounding him, glinting in the moonlight. The wires drifted through the air with a life of their own, dancing in the void.

"Careful. He’s a steel wire user," Number 664 warned.

The three girls squared off against the man. Between the inorganic mask and the myriad of threads shimmering in the moonlight, the man's silhouette looked almost ethereal.

"You who have noticed the transitory—"

The man spoke in a flat, mechanical voice that betrayed no emotion.

"I am John Smith. You girls aren't ready for what lies beyond this point."

With those words, the steel wires fanned out across the night sky.