"I'm taking this back."
I bound the unconscious Kaijin in layers of chains and reclaimed my stolen wallet.
After reporting the incident to the police, I quickly slipped away to avoid being spotted and started the walk home.
"What a lousy day," I sighed, trudging along until I reached a dilapidated two-story apartment building.
I climbed the rusted, creaking stairs and pushed open the door to Room 203, where the number plate hung at a crooked angle.
"Yo! Looks like you got yourself into quite the mess, Owari."
"Tch. How do you know already, old man?"
The lights were on in the cramped room, and an unceremonious greeting hit me the moment I stepped inside.
"Duh. It's already on the news. Look."
In the living room, a man in his early thirties sat cross-legged at a low dining table, glued to a small television.
This was Masao Shimogaki, a man with a face like a thug. He was my roommate and the landlord here.
"Seriously? That was fast."
I sat down beside him in the sparse room and watched the screen.
'Shortly after noon today, a fire involving supernatural abilities broke out at a convenience store near the station. Fortunately, thanks to a Magical Girl who happened to be nearby, there were no casualties. The fleeing suspect was later apprehended by another hero.'
As the anchor read the report in a flat voice, the hero credited with the arrest appeared on screen.
"Huh? It's not the Magical Girl?"
The man on screen was a male hero with long blue hair and handsome features. He carried himself like a textbook "good guy," but there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way.
'The evil organization Dark Matter was dismantled by heroes several years ago, but incidents involving Kaijin continue to rise.'
"Hah! Calling that trash a Kaijin? What a joke!" Shimogaki barked at the TV.
"That thing wasn't a Kaijin."
He always got worked up over the smallest things when it came to the news, mainly because he was so deeply invested in the concept of Kaijin.
"From the public's perspective, it's all the same, right?" I asked.
"Gah!! This is why—!! Listen! I've told you a thousand times! A Kaijin is someone specially chosen from within our organization to receive power! They're the mark of our ultimate fighting force! They are absolutely not the kind of weaklings who struggle against a single Magical Girl!!!!"
Shimogaki ranted loudly, planting a foot on the table. As his outburst suggested, he was a former member of the collapsed Dark Matter. He claimed to have been a low-level combatant, but his loyalty was fierce. Even years after the organization’s fall, his devotion hadn't faded an inch.
"The Kaijin Factor is the organization's ultimate invention. You take a human who's a match for the factor, modify them to fit it, and only then can they call themselves a Kaijin."
"Then what are those things?"
Since the organization was gone, the "true" Kaijin Shimogaki talked about shouldn't exist anymore. Yet, creatures calling themselves Kaijin kept appearing on the news.
"Those are drugs. Corrupted versions of the Kaijin Factor. I think they call it the Kaijin Genome. It has a time limit, but it lets any random person turn into a Pseudo-Kaijin."
"Sounds pretty convenient to me."
"Don't be stupid. It's no different from a narcotic. Sure, you get superhuman strength for a bit, but if a human who hasn't been modified or adapted to the factor uses it, their body falls apart. I've heard it messes with your memory if you use it too long, too. People get hooked on the sense of omnipotence they feel while transformed, but then their bodies feel like trash afterward, so they go back for more. It's pathetic. Apparently, the aftereffects are milder if you have an aptitude for it, but it's not something anyone should be using."
Shimogaki looked genuinely disgusted as he spoke about the Kaijin Genome.
"Who's making it?"
"Who knows? Rumor has it some other new organization is behind it, but I don't give a damn about other groups."
He dismissed the Pseudo-Kaijin despite the damage they were still causing.
I’d known Shimogaki for about two years. He was a coarse, aggressive man who had been an actual member of an evil organization; by society's standards, he was a villain.
"Anyway, enough with the boring stuff. Let’s eat."
But as far as I was concerned, he wasn't a bad guy.
"Right, right."
Owari Tokoyo was a Kaijin. As a result of the organization's modifications, I had lost all my memories in exchange for my powers. Even my current name was just something found on a document in a laboratory; I didn't even know if it was my real one.
I had no family register, no identification, and the organization that created me was gone. I would have died in the gutter if Shimogaki hadn't picked me up.
Whether it was because we were both part of the same organization—though I had no memory of being in it—or some form of atonement, I didn't care. The fact remained that I owed him everything.
"Here, dig in."
Shimogaki handed me one of two convenience store bentos that were nearing their expiration date. We started eating together.
"So, what's your plan?"
"Plan for what?"
"Work. You got any leads?"
"If I did, I wouldn't be this depressed."
Even a Kaijin needs money to live. But finding a job was next to impossible for someone with no memories and no legal identity. Finding a decent job was out of the question.
That convenience store gig was a long-term position I only got because of Shimogaki’s connection. I doubted I could find anything similar on my own.
"In that case, I've got a hell of a job for you. It's just a one-off, though."
"It's legitimate, right?"
"Of course. How much you make depends on you."
"...Is it really legitimate?"
"It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll vouch for it personally, okay?"
It sounded incredibly suspicious. But since I was unemployed, I didn't have the luxury of choice.
I reluctantly agreed to take the job. All I could do was pray that whatever work that villainous grin was recommending was actually on the level.
The next day, I headed out for the part-time job Shimogaki had set up.
"Yeah, I heard about you. Get changed quickly."
"Understood. Thank you, sir."
The supervisor greeted me, and I changed into the designated uniform.
"Man, you’re a lifesaver. We were in a real bind after some people called out."
The location was a luxury hotel in the heart of Tokyo. My job for the day was security.
It was a perfectly normal job, yet I couldn't shake my unease after talking to Shimogaki.
(Is this really going to be okay?)
Feeling anxious, I let my mind drift back to my conversation with him last night.