Kaleid Blood Page 2

  “B-but…!”

  Liana grimaced as she glared at the man. Right beside them, Carrozzo was desperately engaging the idol. But neither bullets nor direct hits from hand grenades were able to even scratch the armor.

  Carrozzo yelled, “Can’t you do something, Gaho?! At this rate, we’re all done for!”

  The man sighed in annoyance as he put a hand to the rim of his fedora. “I told you already, it’s not Gaho…” Then he took a picture of the standing idol with his cell phone, murmuring with an oddly buoyant tone, “It’s a lot like the Nalakuvera from Mehelgal Number Nine… Not so much a trap against diggers than a tomb protector…a guardian to make sure whatever’s inside doesn’t wake up. Looks like we hit the jackpot.”

  As the man continued his calm observations, Carrozzo glared at him. “Gaho!”

  The man laughed at the huge, impatient guard.

  “Don’t worry, Carrozzo. He’s the guardian of the ruin. He won’t attack people if they’re outside the area. As long as the investigation team doesn’t put up a useless fight, it’ll just…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, smoke and flames enveloped the idol. A rocket had struck it squarely. Reinforcements from the private military had come running from the base camp and used a portable rocket launcher.

  The idol had taken a direct hit from a high-explosive anti-tank warhead, yet even then it stood unscathed. It immediately commenced its counterattack against the guards that had fired upon it.

  The idol’s bluish-white beams were actually from a high-powered laser cannon, able to melt down a large boulder in an instant. The flames engulfed the examination team’s base camp. The armed guards weren’t the only target of the counterattack: The idol began indiscriminately attacking equipment used for exploring the ruins, tents in the base camp, and even the team members themselves as they ran about in confusion. It was only a matter of time until the base camp was completely annihilated.

  The man put a hand over his eyes in dismay.

  “Hoo boy… Well, this isn’t good.”

  The Cetus-modeled idol apparently registered the entire examination team as an enemy force. There was little doubt—it would not stop until every human being in the area had been destroyed.

  Liana hastily urged him. “Doc…!”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’d have preferred to recover it undamaged for study, but it looks like we’re long past that.”

  The man gently deflected her words as he put down the rifle bag he was carrying. The weapon he removed from it was a 1.8-meter-long sniper rifle weighing about thirty kilograms, give or take. Its firepower was so massive that the term cannon seemed more fitting for it than rifle.

  Liana stared blankly at the ridiculously large gun, forgetting even to blink. “A…an anti-materiel rifle?!”

  “With a twenty-millimeter-diameter barrel. Weighs a ton, but I made the right call to put up with lugging it.”

  Speaking like a child boasting about his favorite toy, the man set the rifle on top of a bipod.

  The idol slowly turned his way, perhaps sensing its enemy’s intentions. Even so, the man did not rush. He smoothly loaded a round and carefully took aim.

  The icon, now completely turned to face him, opened the laser cannon port on its head and began to open fire—

  When suddenly, the man pulled the trigger, launching a bullet accompanied by a loud boom. His target was that very laser port—the sole gap in the idol’s armor.

  No matter how great its caliber, a mere rifle bullet couldn’t possibly destroy an idol that had shrugged off a square hit from an anti-tank rocket. The anti-materiel rifle’s advantage lay in the precision of the bullet track for sniping.

  The shell plunged through the gap in the armor, no more than several centimeters wide, almost like it was being sucked in and fatally ravaged the delicate mechanisms in the idol’s interior. With the firing port destroyed, the high-powered laser cannon’s energy had lost its outlet and exploded in a bluish-white bolt of lightning.

  Liana clenched both fists and shouted in delight.

  “You did it…!”

  It was the first real damage inflicted on the idol after it had fended off so many attacks. However, the man’s expression did not change.

  “No, not yet…”

  Gazing at the damaged golem with intense interest, he calmly unloaded his spent bullet casing.

  The idol had stopped moving immediately after the explosion but promptly returned to operation, marching straight toward the man with the gun. Apparently, the laser cannon explosion had not inflicted fatal damage. The armor-clad giant seemed intent on trampling the man underfoot. Furthermore, the area around the “destroyed” laser cannon was wriggling around like a living creature as it began to repair itself.

  Liana shouted, “…It’s regenerating?!”

  “Well, that figures. Quirks aside, it’s a legacy of the Devas. It won’t buy the farm from that.”

  “Just as I expected,” muttered the man, a satisfied smile on his face. It was Liana who was shaken.

  “D-Doc—!”

  Carrozzo, now out of bullets, seemed almost ready to cry as he shouted to the man, “What’ll we do, Gaho?! How the hell do we bring that thing down?!”

  No doubt he really wanted to run away, but his duty as a guard would not permit such cowardice. At the very least, they needed to buy some time so the people in the camp could flee.

  In contrast, the man’s expression was cheerful, as if he was enjoying the crisis.

  “Don’t worry. Now I have a pretty good idea of its locomotion ritual pattern. These kinds of gargoyles all have a common weakness—and my next bullet’s special order.”

  The man took a fresh cartridge out of his leather trench coat. It was a golden bullet tipped with a gemstone. There was a strange pattern etched on the casing.

  “Even if it is a legacy from an ancient civilization,” he continued, “there’s pretty much no internal engine that lets something keep moving over thousands of years, which is why a lot of gargoyles draw magical energy from the ruins themselves. So if you send excess magical energy flowing through that circuit—”

  The man loaded the next round into the rifle and prepared to fire again. He aimed at the idol’s chest and calmly pulled the trigger. With an accompanying boom, the golden bullet smashed against the giant’s torso.

  Of course, an anti-materiel rifle bullet did not have the force to penetrate the idol’s armor. The bullet instantly smashed apart into countless tiny fragments, simultaneously releasing an enormous surge of magical energy that crystalized into a large magical circle.

  Liana, realizing the true nature of the bullet the man had fired, looked back at him in shock.

  “A spell bullet…?!”

  Spell bullets were special projectiles with cartridges made of precious metals that sealed enormous amounts of magical energy within. Very few of these even existed, and the guns that could fire them, fewer still. They were so expensive that their use was considered exclusive to a fraction of royalty; however, each round held enormous power.

  “Where on earth did you get something like that?!” Liana asked.

  The man made a charming, laid-back smile as he rose to his feet.

  “I told you, special order.”

  The match had been decided. The idol with the body of a man and the head of a whale, imprisoned by the magic circle, shot beams all around it as it crumbled. The enormous magical energy released by the spell bullet had overloaded the magical ritual animating the idol, causing it to destroy itself.

  Carrozzo tossed his weapon aside as he rose to his feet, laughing heartily as he went to hug the man.

  “Ha-ha… You did it… I knew you could do it, Gaho…!”

  The man’s face scowled in annoyance as he gruffly kicked Carrozzo aside. Carrozzo, born on the Iberian Peninsula, had difficulty pronouncing Japanese names. The man seemed quite fed up as he rose, carrying the rifle with him as the barrel sizzled.

  “I told you already… D
on’t make me repeat myself, Carrozzo. My name isn’t pronounced Gaho. It’s Gajou.”

  Liana was a step removed from the two men as she listened to their conversation. She murmured inside her own mouth, as if to ensure no one overheard her, gazing longingly at the man’s dust-covered back as she spoke—

  “Gajou… Gajou Akatsuki…”

  2

  When Kojou Akatsuki landed at the airport in the Roman Autonomous Region on the Italian peninsula, it was spring already, just past the middle of March. He had to switch planes there to continue on to the Mediterranean island nation of Malta.

  There was only one more passenger with him: Nagisa Akatsuki, his little sister. Their mother had been traveling with them at first but had split off when they stopped at Hong Kong.

  Kojou had just graduated from primary school, and Nagisa was a year younger. Normally, the two wouldn’t be traveling on their own outside the country at those ages, but circumstances in the Akatsuki family were somewhat peculiar.

  Their mother, employed by the international conglomerate MAR, spent nearly half the year working overseas. Their father was staying in Malta for a ruin excavation and exploration scheduled to begin in March.

  And that was how Kojou and Nagisa, stuck between two globe-trotting parents, already had several experiences with overseas trips. Their father had insisted they come this time, too, so they had made the long trek over from Japan.

  Nagisa Akatsuki, eleven years old, exited into the airport’s reception lobby, raising her voice in admiration as she surveyed the sights.

  “Whoa…! Look, Kojou. A foreign country! Foreign people everywhere! All the signs are in other languages! Wow, it sure has been a while!”

  The two picked up their luggage as Kojou murmured in a voice that had yet to deepen, “Well, it’s a different country… And hey, we’re the foreigners here.”

  Nagisa was oddly wound up, probably from being trapped inside the fuselage of a plane for so long. Even without that, her long black hair, which reached all the way down to her hips, made her stand out. Kojou was embarrassed because he felt like everyone was staring at them.

  Nagisa chirped, “What is it, Kojou? Not feeling well? Ah, food cart sighted!! That looks delicious! Biscotti! Biscotti, please!! Four! Quattro!!”

  Nagisa clutched the coins she’d only just exchanged and rushed off to a food cart in the lobby. The employee had replied in a helpful manner, “Two should be plenty,” but Nagisa insisted on four and began haggling over the price in broken Italian.

  “…So the usual,” Kojou remarked.

  After Nagisa finished her purchase, she posed for a picture with another passenger who had requested a photo with her while Kojou was looking the other way. She adjusted very quickly.

  Staring at her as she finally returned, Kojou sighed at length. “You sure look happy.”

  Nagisa tilted her head a bit as she peered at Kojou’s face. “Well, you sure don’t, Kojou. Isn’t it a waste not to have fun when we haven’t been overseas in forever? Wanna eat some biscotti? I’ll give you half.”

  Kojou answered with a yawn.

  “Nah, I’ll pass. Geez, you ate on the plane, and now you’re eating again?”

  The time difference between Japan and Rome was seven hours. His body was sluggish from jet lag. Now that they’d reached Malta, it’d be another hour and a half until the next flight.

  “Dammit,” Kojou grumbled. “It’s Dad’s fault for sending us cheap airline tickets. There’s too many layovers. And anyway, this may be an overseas trip, but we’re actually going to help Dad with his work, right?”

  Nagisa’s tone dropped a little. “…Yeah. Sorry to drag you along, Kojou.”

  Their trip was a chance to see their father, but properly speaking, he’d only asked for Nagisa. Kojou was just her chaperone.

  “Hey, it’s not like you need to apologize. So what should we do now?”

  “Hmm, Gajou said his friend would come and pick us up. He said to wait near the airline counter… Oh, right, he gave me a map.”

  Nagisa began fishing things out of her coat pocket. Kojou was holding the luggage and casually watching her when someone suddenly bumped into his shoulder rather roughly. The man, a foreigner with a small build, had a conflicted look as he spoke.

  “Scusi—”

  Kojou couldn’t understand what he meant, but apparently the man was apologizing. He looked about thirty years old, give or take, and was dressed in plain clothes that made him blend in with the crowd.

  “Ah, sorry… Err…mi dispiace?” Kojou replied, using half-remembered Italian.

  The foreigner gave Kojou a satisfied, toothy grin. “Huh…? Di niente. Buon viaggio, stronzo—”

  “Ah, thanks, thanks. Grazie, grazie.”

  Kojou watched the smiling fellow wave and depart. Suddenly Nagisa gasped, raising her face and pointing at the man.

  “Kojou, my bag—!”

  “Huh…?”

  The foreigner, realizing Nagisa had begun to raise an alarm, suddenly broke into a sprint. He was carrying Nagisa’s bag, which Kojou had been holding under his arm after she gave it to him. The instant their shoulders had bumped, the man had stolen it, along with its contents: the airline ticket, passport, bank card, and other precious things.

  “Bastard—!”

  That second, Kojou’s mind went white, seething with rage. The instant he realized what had happened, his body broke into a full sprint. He pursued the purse snatcher with ferocious speed well beyond a typical child’s capacity. However, the opponent was running no less desperately. Though Kojou gradually closed the distance, catching up with him was no simple task. If the thief managed to get outside the airport, it would be nearly impossible for Kojou, ignorant of the lay of the land, to catch him.

  I’m not gonna make it—! Kojou despaired, but at that very moment, a lone traveler calmly walked in front of the thief. It was an East Asian girl shorter than both Kojou and Nagisa. Clothed in a frilly, extravagant dress, she resembled a beautiful doll.

  “—Per Dio!!”

  The bag snatcher had apparently opted to knock the girl aside rather than try to avoid her. He barreled straight toward her without any drop in speed. The next moment, the parasol in the girl’s hand lightly lashed out.

  Perhaps the action surprised the thief, because he lost his footing as if he’d tripped on an invisible step and tumbled forward with great force. Even then, he immediately rose in an attempt to flee again, but Kojou caught up to him first.

  Kojou cut off the bag snatcher’s path of retreat. “—I’m taking back Nagisa’s purse.”

  “Figlio di puttana…!”

  The irritated thief clicked his tongue and pulled out a knife, twirling it around in an effort to intimidate Kojou, who lowered his stance, silently staring at the man as he remembered his time playing defense in elementary school basketball.

  Of course, Kojou was unarmed and at a disadvantage in size. But oddly, he felt no fear. Observing things calmly, he could see tons of openings in the man’s movements. He fell for Kojou’s clumsy feints so easily that it was funny.

  The man, apparently at the end of his wits, lunged toward Kojou with his foot forward. That instant, Kojou slipped into the man’s flank, swiping back the stolen bag as if he were stealing a basketball.

  Kojou showed him the reclaimed luggage, his lips curling up ferociously.

  “Sorry, old man. I’ve got the ball.”

  The man gaped at the reclaimed bag, groaned, and hurled some kind of foul insult as he took off running. Watching him from behind, Kojou went limp, thoroughly exhausted.

  Kojou was still drained when the girl in the extravagant dress spoke to him.

  “Hmm, hmm. Not bad at all, brat.”

  Based on her appearance, she looked younger than Kojou, but her tone of voice and demeanor were haughty and aloof. Yet it seemed to fit her oddly well.

  “Same to you. Bailed me out there. Hey, what did you do to him, anyway?”

  “Don’t pr
y. I helped out on a whim, and that is all.”

  The girl in the dress laughed gracefully. Kojou unconsciously let out a fairly strained chuckle. Her attitude was bigger than she was, but however oddly menacing it was, she was a hard girl to hate.

  Nagisa, out of breath, finally caught up with her brother.

  “Kojou!”

  Seeing for herself that he was safe, her eyebrows furled in a pouty look.

  “Sheesh, don’t be reckless like that. What would happen if you got hurt in a place like this?!”

  “It’s all right. Someone helped me out, too.”

  “Eh? Who?”

  When Nagisa asked him that in confusion, eyes wide, Kojou shifted his gaze.

  “What do you mean, wh—Er?”

  The girl in the dress who he was sure had been there only moments before was nowhere to be seen. It was as if she’d simply melted into thin air without a trace—

  “Well, that’s weird. There was this Japanese girl in weird clothes here just a second ago… I think she was, like, your age.”

  Nagisa stared at him as he fumbled for an explanation. She sighed, exasperated.

  “…Well, as long as you’re all right…”

  Somehow, they’d managed to get their luggage back, but the thief had created quite a stir in the airport. This time, it definitely wasn’t Kojou’s imagination that everyone was watching.

  Maybe we should hoof it before we get into more trouble, Kojou considered, when a woman he didn’t recognize pushed through curious onlookers, calling to them as she approached. She was a young Caucasian woman dressed in a navy blue suit. She wore minimal makeup, but she was very attractive and gave off the impression of a capable secretary for a corporate president.

  “—Pardon me, but would you be Nagisa Akatsuki?”

  “Yes, I am… Ah, and you are?” Nagisa was a little thrown off as she replied.

  The woman replied in fluent Japanese, “I am Liana Caruana. Professor Gajou Akatsuki asked me to come pick you up.”

  “Eh?! Then you’re Gajou’s…er, my father’s friend, then…?”