"Well," Alfred said, displaying the holographic bounty poster in the operations room. "At least they made you look interesting."
The poster was absurd. Three figures drawn in exaggerated, almost cartoonish style that bore absolutely no resemblance to reality. The first figure—clearly meant to be Tadano—was depicted as a massive, muscle-bound warrior with a sword the size of a small building. The second—Vivi—looked like a demonic fire spirit with wild hair made of actual flames and eyes that glowed red. The third—Dan—was shown as some kind of technological wizard with mechanical arms and a cape made of circuitry.
Below the drawings, text in harsh Dark script:
WANTED FOR THEFT AND TERRORISM
THE SHADOW BLADE
THE INFERNO WITCH
THE TECH PHANTOM
REWARD: 50,000 CREDITS PER CAPTURE (ALIVE)10,000 CREDITS FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THEIR BASE
"The Shadow Blade?" Tadano read aloud, equal parts offended and amused. "That's the best they could come up with?"
"I don't know," Vivi said, studying her own poster. "The Inferno Witch is kind of cool. Makes me sound powerful and mysterious."
"You set one guard's uniform on fire during the escape and suddenly you're a witch," Dan muttered. But he was grinning at his own ridiculous portrait. "Tech Phantom. I like it. Very ominous."
"The good news," Alfred interjected, "is that these drawings look nothing like you. The security footage was apparently too corrupted to give them clear images—Master Dan's jammers worked, at least partially. They know what you can do, but not what you look like."
"What about the guard?" Tadano asked. "The one who triggered the alarm. He saw us."
"Saw you in darkness, during a high-stress situation, for approximately three seconds before you disarmed him." Alfred pulled up another display. "His description was vague—'two teenagers and someone young, moved fast, one had a sword.' Not enough for proper identification. The Darks are casting a wide net hoping to get lucky."
"Fifty thousand credits per person though," Vivi whistled. "That's serious money."
"That's serious motivation for bounty hunters and informants," Dan corrected. "Which means we can't go back to Millbrook. Can't go to Riverside either—too close. Basically, we're stuck here until the heat dies down." He slumped into a chair. "So much for my grand revolutionary career. One mission and we're already in hiding."
"You're alive," Alfred pointed out. "Which is more than can be said for many who attempt to rob Dark military banks."
"Small consolation when we're broke, wanted, and trapped in a hidden base."
Tadano studied the bounty posters again. Something about them bothered him, though he couldn't quite articulate what. The Darks were clearly taking this seriously—fifty thousand per person wasn't a trivial bounty. But the vague descriptions, the cartoonish drawings...
"They're not sure we're a real threat yet," he said slowly. "These bounties are high enough to motivate people, but not so high that it suggests panic. They think we might be just lucky amateurs."
"Which works in our favor," Vivi added, catching his thought. "If they underestimate us—"
"We have an advantage." Dan sat up straighter, his usual energy returning. "Right. Okay. New plan. We stay low for now, yes. But we use this time productively. Training. Planning. Getting better so the next mission doesn't end with us running for our lives."
"A sensible approach for once," Alfred said. "I'm almost proud."
The next week fell into a routine. Mornings were for training—Alfred ran them through combat drills, tactical scenarios, and emergency protocols. Afternoons were for planning—studying maps, identifying potential targets, learning about Dark military operations. Evenings were for equipment maintenance and, occasionally, actual rest.
Tadano found himself sparring more and more with Dan. The green-haired boy was surprisingly skilled with a blade, though his weapon of choice was unlike anything Tadano had seen before.
"Laser sword," Dan explained, demonstrating. The weapon was a metal hilt that, when activated, projected a blade of pure coherent light—green, like his magic, and absolutely deadly. "Tech Magic specialty. I designed it myself. Cuts through pretty much anything, weighs almost nothing, and looks amazing."
"It's impractical," Tadano said, raising his own steel sword.
"It's awesome," Dan corrected. "Huge difference. Now come on—show me what underground sword training looks like."
They fought.
Tadano expected to dominate easily. Dan was a Tech Mage, not a dedicated swordsman. His stance was decent but not perfect. His footwork was adequate but showed clear gaps in formal training.
But he was fast.
The laser sword whistled through the air, leaving trails of green light. Dan's style was unpredictable—mixing formal techniques with improvisation, using the weightless blade to change direction mid-swing in ways a steel sword never could.
Tadano parried, countered, pressed his advantage. But Dan adapted quickly, learning from each exchange, adjusting his approach. Within minutes, the fight had become genuinely challenging.
"Not bad," Tadano admitted, breathing harder than he'd expected. "Where'd you learn to fight?"
"Holographic training mostly. Some from observation. Some from—" Dan's laser sword came in fast, forcing Tadano to backstep, "—trial and error!"
They circled each other. Tadano analyzed Dan's pattern, found the opening, and struck—a feint high, real attack low, catching Dan's guard out of position.
His steel blade stopped a hair's breadth from Dan's throat.
"Dead," Tadano said.
Dan grinned, not even breathing hard. "Nice. Very nice. How'd you read that?"
"Your left foot telegraphs your weight shifts. You compensate with speed, but against someone watching for it—"
"They can exploit it. Got it." Dan deactivated his laser sword. "Again? I want to see if I can fix that tell."
They reset. Fought again. This time Dan adjusted, hiding his weight shifts better. The fight lasted longer. Tadano won again, but it was closer.
Third match. Fourth. Fifth.
By the eighth bout, Tadano was genuinely struggling. Dan's learning speed was absurd—he identified weaknesses, adapted, evolved his style in real-time. The laser sword's unique properties let him attempt techniques impossible with steel.
Ninth match.
Tadano feinted left, struck right, chained into a spinning attack that should have been impossible to counter—
Dan's laser sword was there, deflecting. Then Dan was inside Tadano's guard, the green blade at Tadano's heart.
"Dead," Dan said, grinning triumphantly.
They both stood there, breathing hard, sweat dripping. Around them, other training had stopped. Vivi watched from the side, flames forgotten in her hands. Even Alfred had paused his usual commentary.
"That was..." Tadano started.
"Awesome?" Dan suggested.
"Going to say 'closer than it should have been.'" Tadano sheathed his sword. "You're learning too fast. No one adapts that quickly without—"
He stopped.
Without magic.
Dan's expression had changed. Gone was the playful grin, replaced by something more serious. More curious.
"Tadano," Dan said slowly. "How close did you come to winning that last exchange?"
"Close. Very close. If you'd been a fraction slower—"
"But I wasn't. And here's the thing—I was using Tech Magic to enhance my reflexes. Not much, just enough to process information faster, react quicker." Dan stepped closer, his green eyes intense. "You nearly beat me anyway. With just skill. Just... you."
"So?"
"So that shouldn't be possible." Dan's voice was quiet now. "I've fought trained soldiers, Tadano. People with decades of experience. And none of them have pushed me that hard without using magic to enhance themselves." He tilted his head. "You're fast. Impossibly fast. Your reactions are beyond human normal. And you claim you have no magic at all."
"I don't," Tadano said, defensive. "I've been tested. Multiple times. There's no magical signature, no latent abilities, nothing."
"Traditional tests look for traditional magic." Dan was pacing now, that analytical mind clearly working. "Gen 1 elements. Gen 2 specializations. Even Gen 3 abilities leave certain signatures. But what if..." He stopped. "What if you have something that doesn't register on normal tests? Something old. Something—"
"Something what?" Vivi asked, joining them.
Dan looked at Tadano with an expression that was half excitement, half concern.
"What if Tadano has Cursed Arts?"
The words hung in the air.
Tadano felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Cursed Arts? What—"
"I need to run some tests," Dan interrupted, suddenly all business. "Alfred! Prep the analysis chamber. Full spectrum magical detection, historical database cross-reference, and—"
"Master Dan," Alfred said carefully. "If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, perhaps we should discuss this privately before—"
"No." Tadano's voice was firm. "Whatever this is, I want to know. Now. What are Cursed Arts?"
Dan and Alfred exchanged looks. The kind of look that said they knew something. Something important. Something dangerous.
"It's..." Dan hesitated, which was so unlike him that it made Tadano's unease spike. "It's complicated. And I'm not even sure I'm right. But if I am—" He met Tadano's eyes. "If I am, it changes everything."
"Tell me," Tadano demanded.
"Not yet. Not until I'm sure." Dan's expression was serious in a way Tadano had never seen. "Give me twenty-four hours to run diagnostics. If I'm wrong, no harm done. If I'm right..."
"If you're right?"
Dan's smile was back, but it was strained. Worried.
"If I'm right, then you're not magicless at all. You're something much, much rarer. And much more dangerous."
He walked away toward the facility's analysis lab, leaving Tadano standing in the training room with more questions than answers.
Vivi moved beside him. "What was that about?"
"I don't know," Tadano admitted. "But I don't think I'm going to like it."
"Cursed Arts," Vivi repeated quietly. "Even the name sounds ominous."
Tadano touched the hilt of his sword, thinking about the fight. About how he'd nearly beaten Dan despite the Tech Mage's enhancements. About how he'd always been faster than he should be, more skilled than his training alone could explain.
About how he'd spent sixteen years believing he was born without magic, broken in a world where magic was everything.
What if that belief was wrong?
What if he'd had power all along, just... different?
Twenty-four hours. Then he'd have answers.
He wasn't sure if that thought terrified him or thrilled him.
Maybe both.