Ochiba Kareki, still standing in midair, watched them. "Please leave these hostages to me, oh great Demonic Middle Manager."
I had a lot of concerns about what she was saying; unfortunately, she'd allied herself with the Demonic Middle Manager. I would have preferred she take the Masked Sailor's side, but given the situation, she hadn't had a choice. Now the story of our little stage play was spiraling out of control.
Oblivious to our apprehensions, the terrorists tried to flee the scene.
"Forget about that thing. We'll use this guy's power to withdraw."
"We're not taking the girl with the ToD he captured?"
"Don't be an idiot! We'd be wasting our lives!"
Of the three psychics now onstage, only two of them spoke. The other one stood next to them, not saying a word. Had the mind-stealing psychic taken him captive the same way he had Ms. Futarishizuka? Looking at his empty eyes made me uneasy.
Ochiba Kareki raised an arm toward them. A magic circle appeared before her hand, then she unleashed a burst of light like a laser beam—similar to what the Masked Sailor had fired earlier. Actually, the midair image of Ochiba Kareki was probably being projected the exact same way as the laser.
But this time, apart from the light, there was a high-pitched bang. Just for an instant, a powerful flash shot through the center of the beam. It was aimed at the bureau employee—probably to block the teleport psychic from fleeing the scene.
The attack was headed straight for his head.
"Type Twelve!" I exclaimed under my breath. "Don't kill him if you can help it!"
"Father, this is a nonlethal directional energy weapon. It is designed to disable medium- to large-size mammals, such as humans. During normal usage, it delivers a nonlethal wound. It also leaves very little in the way of aftereffects. I developed it to help fend off Grandmother."
"Oh, uh, I see."
She'd just repeated the same line I'd heard over the earphone a little while ago. The bit at the end made me a little concerned for the future of our pretend family.
This was the same attack Miss Hoshizaki and the others had been talking about. The laser beam was only an effect made by the midair displays—a mere distraction. The flash of light, similar to a lightning bolt, that had zapped through the middle of it was the actual weapon.
"Hey! Get the one with the ToD to cover us!"
"A-all right!"
With the bureau member down, the two remaining terrorists immediately moved to dash off the stage, running for the path between the rows of metal folding chairs lining the hall.
Since the telekinetic psychic was with them, they could have flown through the air. But they opted to stick to the ground. I wondered if it was to use the audience members present in the hall as a shield.
They cleverly chose their path so that the audience was always in Ochiba Kareki's line of fire. Not only that, but Ms. Futarishizuka had jumped off the stage and run after them as if to serve as their rear guard. From the audience's point of view, the Masked Sailor was fighting hard to let the hostages escape.
But the position of the 3D model was completely unrelated to that of Type Twelve's pods and terminals—of which there were plenty all around, concealed with optical camouflage tech.
"Masked Sailor. Only the virtuous need protection—ignorant fools must be eliminated."
I was pretty sure middle school first-years didn't say things like that.
As my neighbor's voice rang out, several magic circles emerged out of thin air. They resembled the ones used by magical girls. Light appeared to converge near the middle of the circles, readying another round of laser beams. With a swing of my neighbor's arm, they shot straight at the terrorists.
"What the—?"
"What's happening?!"
The two psychics didn't stand a chance. Their bodies froze up instantly, as though they'd been hit with a powerful electric current. Then they flopped down onto the floor and lay motionless. It looked so convincing from where I was standing that I was worried Type Twelve had lied about the weapon being nonlethal.
Just then, there was a change in Ms. Futarishizuka.
"What…? No! What a disaster! To think someone would do something so nasty to another human being. No respectable individual would dare! Why, there is little doubt you carry a great deal of darkness in your heart!"
She stopped running and delivered a lighthearted comment that struck me as very in-character. It seemed she'd regained control.
I suspected she'd regained her freedom when the mind-stealer went down. Judging from her words, she was aware of everything that had happened in the meantime, including the conversations that had taken place over our earphones. If she wasn't, I doubted she'd have made that dig at Type Twelve.
"Mother, Grandmother is indirectly criticizing the youngest daughter."
"You said that thing isn't lethal. But it still hurts, right?"
"Stimulating pain improves learning efficiency in humans. If we wish to more efficiently educate a target, delivering pain is essential. In fact, when it comes to Grandmother, I believe it would be appropriate to do a little more than necessary."
"..."
"Could you at least cut the earphone link before you verbally attack me? I can hear you, you know."
Meanwhile, my neighbor—or rather, Ochiba Kareki—floated down to the ground and headed toward the fallen mind-stealer. "It seems the tables have turned, Masked Sailor," she said, stepping on the man's back with one foot and striking a pose.
Despite splitting the work of controlling the 3D model, with Type Twelve handling the overall movement and my neighbor in charge of the gestures, the action as a whole was smooth. The former stayed mindful of the situation, while the latter was extraordinarily good at making snap decisions to coordinate with her partner. Though the way she'd casually stepped on that man filled me with an odd sense of danger.
"If you value the lives of these pathetic hostages, then capitulate. Surrender to us."
"Grrrr! Who…? Who are you?!"
"I am the Demonic Nerd Girl, loyal servant of the esteemed Demonic Middle Manager."
There it was—my neighbor's official transfer to the dark side. I realized she hadn't had a choice, but her backstory still concerned me. Would this hamper her activities as Ochiba Kareki in the future? If you lose subscribers for this, I'm really, really sorry.
"Argh! I must retreat. But only for now!"
Ms. Futarishizuka probably agreed that taking this any further would invite disaster, so she made one final statement, then headed for the wings.
"Wait right there, Masked Sailor!"
As my neighbor moved to chase her, I hastily called out, "Let her go, Demonic Nerd Girl." The terrorists were dealt with. We needed to leave. Now. "More importantly, I must sincerely thank you for saving me from a dangerous situation. If not for your arrival, I would have been defeated at the hands of the Masked Sailor. You have my deepest gratitude."
Without my neighbor's and Type Twelve's efforts, the psychics might have been long gone by now. Perhaps they would have taken me and Ms. Futarishizuka with them. A chill ran up my spine at the thought.
"Please, no thanks are necessary. Weak though I may be, I am ever at your disposal, for I am your loyal servant. Whenever and wherever you call me, I will run straight to your side."
"Then we should leave as well, Demonic Nerd Girl."
"Yes, my lord."
And with that, we followed the Masked Sailor's example and withdrew. We ran down from the stage and dashed back through the audience, ending up in the same staff area we entered from.
Onstage, the performance shifted back to the VTubers. The music, which Type Twelve had turned down upon our entrance, was cranked up to its original level, and the visuals were returned to the big screen, where they once again became the center of the audience's attention.
As this was going on, Miss Inukai led a group of SDF members and bureau employees to recover the fallen psychics. In just a few minutes, they were gone again. A few of the attendees looked confused, but not enough to cause a stir.
Instead, audience conversation was focused on the dramatic performance they'd all just witnessed.
"Hey, what the heck was that? A comedy show?" "Probably just more promotion for Ochiba Kareki." "She's clearly the management's oshi." "Wasn't it weird how she was flying around above the audience?" "The story was a load of nonsense, too." "The Masked Sailor and the demon were both manhandling the hostages." "How was she moving around like that?"
Not a soul had realized we were dealing with a terrorist group. In that sense, our performance was a huge success. I'd had a few big scares while it was going on, but we'd managed to settle the issue with everyone safe and sound.
Once we'd secured the two terrorists involved in the hostage situation, the group's activities wound down pretty quickly. To me, this signified that they didn't want to pick a fight with the mechanical life-form directly.
According to the testimony of the captured terrorists, Mr. Kuga had intended to introduce my neighbor to their group during the event, then wring money out of them as a reward.
When the bureau got involved, the situation descended into turmoil.
Once Winterfest was over and a suitable amount of time had passed, it would be announced that Mr. Kuga had committed suicide. According to the chief, the criminal investigation was already over and talks were complete; having state authority truly made all the difference. Only the bureau and a few people involved with Otherworld Productions knew anything about the incident.
And so, day two of Winterfest began as scheduled. My neighbor and Abaddon took part, and while they didn't have much screen time, they told me they'd have a chance to speak on the secondary stage.
Meanwhile, as her manager, I now had some free time, which I used to walk around the hall with Miss Hoshizaki, Ms. Futarishizuka, and Type Twelve. After the previous day's disturbance, we'd all received free passes from OtherPro's bigwigs, giving us unlimited access to all the events.
The very first place we went was the cosplay area—on Type Twelve's request. And this time, we weren't going to watch. We'd be in costume.
Personally, I would have preferred to abstain. Ms.
Futarishizuka and Miss Hoshizaki seemed similarly reluctant. But with how much Type Twelve had done for us the day before, nobody in our pretend family could say no to her, and so the decision to participate was made by majority vote.
We were now all in costume. Ms. Futarishizuka and I had changed into our Masked Sailor and Demonic Middle Manager outfits, respectively. Initially, I wasn't sure we should reuse the costumes, considering what we'd gotten up to the day before, but I could see others dressed in similar outfits around the cosplay area. It seemed both our characters were surprisingly popular.
Meanwhile, Type Twelve was wearing an Ochiba Kareki outfit. Since we'd promised the day before that we'd let her dress up, she'd started putting the costume together right away, and was done by the start of pretend family time. We were stunned when we saw her—she'd dyed her hair black and even changed her eye color. Apparently, these were optional extras for her point of contact.
"Excuse me! Can I take a picture of you?" "Oh, me too!" "Could you look this way?" "You're cosplaying Ochiba Kareki, right?" "She was pretty impressive onstage yesterday."
"I do not mind. You may photograph me to your hearts' content. Take as many pictures as you'd like."
For some time, Type Twelve had been fielding an endless procession of photo requests. She readily consented to all of them without a second thought.
"Can you look this way, too?" "Wow, you did a really good job on your outfit!" "Is that man over there your dad?" "Do you want to exchange contact information? That way I can send you the pictures I just took."
"You are more than welcome to photograph me. However, my guardian has prohibited me from exchanging contact details."
All the while, the edges of her mouth kept twitching and trembling, like she was desperately holding back the joy welling up in her heart but couldn't quite hide all of it. Considering her usual impassive expression, this was a pretty rare sight. All that attention must have been soothing her heart on a deep level.
As a bureau employee, I had to keep the existence of mechanical lifeforms a secret. But since Type Twelve was in costume and pretending to be Ochiba Kareki, it didn't seem like too big a deal to let all those people photograph her.
"Excuse me, could I get a picture of you all together? A group photo?"
"Oh? I know your type—an amateur hobbyist who likes to go around taking pictures of ladies presenting exhibitions and such. Well, I must say, you have good taste."
"Actually, I was wondering if the Demonic Middle Manager could join in as well."
"Would you like me to strike an erotic pose for you, child? Perhaps a little skirt flip?"
"Oh, um, no thank you. Since you're cosplaying a minor, that would raise ethical concerns…"
A few people asked Ms. Futarishizuka and me for pictures, too. I never thought I'd be cosplaying or getting photographed at my age. While my face was hidden behind a layer of special-effects makeup, I wasn't all that enthusiastic about letting people I didn't know snap pictures of me. But Ms. Futarishizuka kept agreeing, forcing me to go along with her.
The only one of our group in normal clothes was Miss Hoshizaki. She wore her usual suit, her face covered in makeup. On second thought, maybe you could call that a kind of costume, too.
"..."
Incidentally, she had been staring at her smartphone at every opportunity, fidgeting restlessly. Compared to other people her age, she didn't look at her phone all that much, so this uncharacteristic behavior raised some questions in my mind. Even now, she was looking at the screen with a complicated expression.
"Not a fan of cosplay, Miss Hoshizaki?" I asked.
"No, it's just that we don't know how they're gonna use those pictures they take, right? If we go wild in front of all these people we've never met, I'm pretty sure we'll regret it."
"I suppose you're right. Things like that do happen from time to time."
I tried to strike up a conversation, but it didn't go any further than that. Miss Hoshizaki's attention was focused solely on her phone now, like before. She looked unwell, and it concerned me.
"You don't look too good, Miss Hoshizaki. Would you like to go home?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, no. I'm fine, don't worry."
"Mother, if you are feeling unwell, then I propose transporting you to the medical facility I constructed on Mars."
"What is this, a sci-fi novel?" Ms. Futarishizuka remarked. "My curiosity is certainly piqued."
Lately, the mechanical life-form's development of the solar system had grown more conspicuous. I assumed she already had the moon and Mars under her complete control. Space exploration groups from around the world were doubtless at their wits' ends.
"All human diseases are completely curable at the facility. Furthermore, by administering you with nanomachines, I can guarantee you will never become sick again as long as you live and extend your life several times over. As your youngest daughter, I highly recommend this course of action."
"I'm telling you, I'm not sick or anything!"
"She says it all like it's nothing," commented Ms. Futarishizuka. "This girl's super-science is quite concerning."
"It's basically the same as a reward from the proxy war," my neighbor pointed out.
"Yep! My partner's right. In every age, there are plenty of Disciples who ask for rewards like that!"
If anyone found out about this, we'd be in another mess. Rich and influential people the world over would want it for themselves. Miss Hoshizaki didn't seem to care much, though. Must be nice, being young, I thought.
"Something just occurred to me," said Ms. Futarishizuka. "Is this why you tried so hard yesterday?" She glanced at Type Twelve's cosplay.
The mechanical life-form responded with her usual lack of concern. "Grandmother, Japanese dictionaries include a wonderful phrase called mochitsu motaretsu. It means reciprocity."
"Right. Well, I'm glad you're always so transparent, at least."
It seemed Ms. Futarishizuka had been right about Type Twelve's ulterior motives. And she was having a lot of fun. Her "simp for me" attitude had destroyed a whole class, after all.
"Um, more importantly!" said Miss Hoshizaki. "The contest ends today. You all sure seem confident. If you want extra time, we can have a vote to see if we should extend the deadline…"
"No, I've already given up on first place," replied Ms. Futarishizuka.
"Mother, the youngest daughter has already accumulated sufficient views."
"Oh," said my senior colleague. "Then, uh, what about you? Sasaki?"
"Me? Well, I… Hmm…"
I thought of my channel. I'd abandoned it—it had been days since I last uploaded a video. Giving a detailed report now might affect how everyone else viewed their results, so I didn't want to say too much.
"Don't tell me you uploaded stuff you can't show the rest of us," she pressed.
"No, it's nothing like that."
"Oh. Um." Miss Hoshizaki looked down, seeming disappointed. Did she want us to extend the deadline? This wasn't like her; she was usually so peppy.
"Speaking of the contest," said Ms. Futarishizuka. "I just want to confirm with the girl's manager—what are she and the boy planning to do now? From what I've seen, she approaches this work with more vigor than her academics."
"They're hoping to continue their activities," I explained.
"Well, I suppose there are only so many ways for a child to make money."
Evidently, Ms. Futarishizuka understood as well as I did why my neighbor and Abaddon were so intent on this VTuber business. "I thought we could watch over her warmly."
"Oh, I was thinking of buying up all the OtherPro stock I could."
"Please don't do that."
"I'm pretty sure it's about to go up, though. Why shouldn't I have some shares?"
"When you put it that way, I'm not sure what to say."
And so the second day of Winterfest ended without incident.
The Neighbor's POV)
On the second day of Winterfest, I finish my work in the hall and head to the staff area to take a break. I didn't have much to do; I was only a background character livening up one of the first-strings' stage events. I'd been chosen for the role despite being a second-string only because I had my own 3D model. I was given almost no lines.
"Is that it for today?"
"That's everything on the schedule."
Abaddon is next to me, as always. He bobs up and down in the air, carefree, standing out like a sore thumb around all the staff members hurrying about nearby. Now that I think about it, this demon spends way more of his time floating than he does standing on his own two feet. Won't his legs atrophy?
"What now?"
"I want to find my neighbor and the others."
"Oh, they said they're cosplaying!"
As I whisper with Abaddon and think about what to do next, someone calls out to us. We've barely been sitting for two minutes.
"Miss Kareki, might you have a moment?"
"Thaaanks for coming up onstage with us before!"
It's Kihouin and Rolling. They must have come straight here. They were on stage with me right before this, but unlike Ochiba Kareki, they were the stars.
"Is there something I can do for you?" I ask.
"I heard that the police decided it was a suicide," says Kihouin.
"I still can't belieeeve it, and I even slept on it," adds Rolling.
Without asking, they sit down across from me at the table and start talking.
"That's how it would seem," I reply.
"If you ask meee, I think your logic had some merit to it," says Rolling.
"I'm just a kid speaking nonsense," I insist. "You don't need to take what I say seriously. If that's what the police decided, then we shouldn't question their investigation. After all, you have a lot of pull with the public."
"You never mince words, do you, Karekiii?"
"I'm sorry. That's just how I am."
"Well, that is why we keep pestering you," says Kihouin.
What could they want? Are they just here to chat? Aren't they busy?
"Would you mind if I asked you something, too, Miss Kihouin?"
"What do you wish to know?"
"Why do you keep pestering me?"
"Goodness! You came right out and asked!"
"I thought you wanted me to."
"Did I? Perhaps. I suppose that could be…"
This is exasperating. Which is it? Is she finally trying to give an impudent newcomer some "guidance," as a senpai? I'm fully aware that I'm not a very affable person. Do they think a little poking and prodding will scare me?
"If you consider me an eyesore, I would rather you just come out and say it," I tell her. "I'm really not trying to cause any trouble for anyone. If there's something I can fix, I'd like to do so. Do you have any advice for me?" I ask boldly.
"Nooo, that's not it," says Rolling quickly. She glances at Kihouin.
Kihouin seems worried about something. After hesitating for a few seconds, she straightens up. "Well, you see how we stay in character even offline, right, darling? It's amazing, don't you agree?"
"Yes. I imagine it must be quite difficult at your age," I respond honestly.
"Y-you don't have to point that out!" she cries. "I'm well aware."
If she knows, why doesn't she just stop?
"That's exactly why we wanted to use someone like you to finally put an end to it," she continues. "If we kept provoking you, we figured you'd eventually point it out in front of other people."
Ugh. What an annoying woman. She's pushing everything onto me. "I don't see why I need to do that. Can't you wake up tomorrow and just stop?"
"We've been doing it sooo long that it's kind of a matter of priiide," explained Rolling.
I wish they wouldn't get a total newcomer involved in their stupid issues. Won't I run the risk of being ostracized if this goes wrong? I suppose I'm already hated by all the other second-strings, but still.
"I don't think anyone else will care that much," I say.
"They most certainly will. They'll start whispering behind our backs!" Kihouin insists.
"I meeean, I'm fine with the way things are nowww, but whatever," Rolling comments.
"You're quite the strange one, do you know that?" says Kihouin.
Rolling's composed demeanor makes me think she's already in it deep. Despite the newness of the VTuber industry, it's still part of the entertainment business. I get the feeling weirdos like her crop up all the time.
Kihouin is probably concerned precisely because she hasn't yet lost her common sense. But then, why is she bothering a newcomer over something so stupid?
"I really apologize, but I don't think I'll be able to meet your expectations," I say.
"A-and whyever not?"
"You two are my senpai. You're so far above me. I would never be able to say something so rude to you in front of other people. If I ever become successful enough to speak up to you, maybe we can revisit this idea."
"W-well…"
How can she expect me to agree to this? Wipe your own ass, lady.
"I'm sorry. I need to meet with my manager, so I'll be going now."
"H-hold on just one moment! You're the only one we can ask!" Kihouin barks, getting louder.
I ignore her, stand up from my seat, and head straight out of the staff area.
"Are you sure talking to them like that was a good idea?"
"We don't stand to gain anything from helping them."
"Blunt and frank. That's Kareki for you!"
"..."
I know what Abaddon is implying, he doesn't even have to say it. He's right—I'm a gloomy introvert character, through and through.
After a lot of hassle, Winterfest finally came to a close.
The staff were planning a grand wrap party, and they naturally invited my neighbor and me, as well. We politely declined, then returned to our nearby hotel. Party or no, we had to show up for pretend family time.
We explained to the others that we needed to pick up our things before heading to Karuizawa, then we stopped by our rooms at the hotel. When I used the card key to unlock my door, however, I found a group of people already inside.
"I didn't know you were here, Peeps."
"You require transportation, do you not?"
"Yeah. Thanks for being so considerate."
Beyond the short hallway at the entrance, I could see Prince Lewis sitting on the bed with Lady Elsa standing next to him, my distinguished sparrow perched on her shoulder. I was a little surprised; I had thought the room would be empty.
"I do apologize for entering while you were out, Baron Sasaki."
"No need, Your Highness. In fact, I'm sorry for making you wait in such a small room. If it pleases you, I can arrange a larger space for us."
"No, no. Such reverence is uncalled-for."
Peeps must have brought them here with his teleportation magic. We'd told him where we were staying. In fact, he'd come before to see us off.
"Something urgent?" asked Ms. Futarishizuka. She was standing beside me, along with Type Twelve.
My neighbor and Abaddon were staying in a separate room, so they'd gone there instead. Once they'd packed their things, they were supposed to meet back up with us here. I expected it wouldn't be much longer before they arrived.
"As I said, we only came here to pick you up."
Peeps took flight, leaving Lady Elsa's shoulder and alighting on mine. His casual decision to switch perches made me oddly happy.
"And this one has been cooped up in the mansion ever since he arrived," the bird pointed out, glancing at the prince. "I thought it might be a good time to show him a bit of the outside world."
I thought back. Peeps was right. We hadn't yet gotten the chance to bring Prince Louis anywhere aside from the Karuizawa villa and our pretend family house in the UFO. The most he'd done was take a few strolls through the villa's yard and play sports on the property.
"That was very inconsiderate of me, sir," I said. "I apologize for putting undue stress on you."
"No matter. Compared to before, this may as well be heaven. And I understand you all have your reasons."
Eventually, my neighbor and Abaddon knocked on the door and we let them inside. My neighbor had a rather large travel bag in her hand. I thought she'd take a little longer to pack, but it seemed she'd rushed. I had the idea girls usually took their time with such things, but my neighbor's speed seemed very in line with her character.
"I'm sorry for the wait, mister."
"Well, look at this!" exclaimed Abaddon. "Are we throwing a party in here?"
Once they were inside, Ms. Futarishizuka spoke up with a proposal. "Why don't we all go out for dinner tonight as a family? We're already in town. We can have a nice little look around the city from a taxi, then splurge a bit on a good restaurant."
"Oh!" said Lady Elsa. "So that's why you said we wouldn't need to prepare dinner tonight."
"Yes, we have been making the two of you do all the work for a while now." Ms. Futarishizuka seemed to have the same things on her mind as Peeps. She shifted her gaze to my shoulder. "Though I assure you, it was not my intention to agree with the sparrow there."
"I should say the same, whelp."
We took a vote and unanimously decided to eat out.
"Excellent," said Ms. Futarishizuka. "Now, since all the participants in the view-count contest are present, why don't we unveil the results? It will make for great dinner conversation. We don't need to make a big show out of it or anything, of course."
"Huh?" said Miss Hoshizaki. She seemed surprised at the casual suggestion. Everyone turned their attention to her.
"What is it?" asked Ms. Futarishizuka. "You have an objection?"
"Mother, I am seeing an increase in your heart rate. Does something concern you?" asked Type Twelve.
"I, uh… No! No, it's nothing."
"Well then, boys and girls, without further ado, it's time to reveal the results of the contest!" Ms. Futarishizuka thrust her index finger toward the ceiling.
We settled in to hear the results. Lady Elsa and Prince Lewis were sitting on the edge of the bed with Miss Hoshizaki in the desk chair. I, Ms. Futarishizuka, and my neighbor remained standing near the bed. Abaddon, as always, floated in the air next to my neighbor.
"I'm fine with that," I said. "But do you know whose
accounts are whose? I don't think anyone has figured out Miss Hoshizaki's or Type Twelve's yet."
"We'll be self-reporting, obviously! First of all, anyone with under ten thousand views, raise your hand!"
The room fell silent at Ms. Futarishizuka's instruction. No one moved.
"What? Nobody?" she murmured.
"It would appear that way," I said.
"I thought for sure you would be under a thousand."
"I'm not surprised you would think that."
Until just a few days ago, I had been. Getting ten thousand views had been a pipe dream, and I'd said as such during our family gatherings. I wondered if the others were suspicious, too.
"Well, all right," said Ms. Futarishizuka. "Next up, anyone under thirty thousand." She looked around the room, gauging everyone's reactions.
But once again, nobody raised a hand.
Her gaze turned to me right away. "Are you taking this self-reporting thing seriously? You're not lying, are you?"
"Trust me, your concerns are quite reasonable, but I do indeed have over thirty thousand."
"If we count them up and find that you were fibbing, you'll be subject to a penalty."
"I assure you that won't be necessary. Let's continue."
"Fine. Anyone under fifty thousand?"
Nobody moved. I didn't, either.
Once again, Ms. Futarishizuka fixed me with a reproachful stare. "Really? Are you serious? You passed fifty thousand?"
"We'll be revealing our accounts when we learn our placement, right?" I returned. "In that case, I ask that you wait until then to pass judgment. If it looks like my views are lacking, you may levy any punishment on me you wish."
"Rgh…" She looked at me as if she wanted to say more. The reason became clear along with her next announcement.
"Fine. Next, anyone under one hundred thousand!" As soon as she'd said this, she immediately and energetically raised her own hand. "Me! Me, me!"
Nobody but her had their hand in the air.
"Wait, seriously?" asked Miss Hoshizaki, shocked. "Futarishizuka came in last?"
"How about you, my esteemed senior? Did you really get over one hundred thousand views?"
"I tallied them up so many times, I can't possibly be wrong."
"You've gotta be kidding… Shizu's Gaming Dojo got last place…," muttered Ms. Futarishizuka weakly, looking aghast.
Her meek attitude seemed very out of character. She was usually so nonchalant and easygoing; it was rare to see her disheartened. Contrary to my expectations, it seemed she'd been taking this pretty seriously.
"Could you not make it so obvious that you expected us all to lose?" said Miss Hoshizaki.
"Come on, I thought I had it in the bag! I never even dreamed you, or this guy, would beat me. I thought I'd make streaming games my life's work for a while!" Ms. Futarishizuka said bitterly.
Our senior clearly thought this was in no way her problem. "Hey, nobody's saying you have to stop. If you like it, then keep doing it."
"Well, let's take a look at Ms. Futarishizuka's channel, shall we?" I suggested.
The hotel room contained a wall-mounted TV, so I turned it on and fiddled around with the remote. I'd already confirmed that we could use it to view the video submission site; once I had it open, I searched for Shizu's Gaming Dojo and called it up on the screen.
She'd uploaded several more let's-play videos since the last time we'd checked. I added up the view counts from top to bottom. She was right—there were a little under a hundred thousand in total.
"Your self-reporting was correct," I said. "It looks like you have a total of ninety thousand and change."
"My first stream went off, but ever since, I've been struggling to get views," she explained. "I should have brought out every big title I could get my old hands on. Ultimately, it's the title that draws in fans. The gameplay itself doesn't matter."
"Hey, don't be so discouraged," I told her. The results had come as such a shock that she'd started sulking, so I took over the announcements. "Now, let's see anyone with one hundred fifty thousand or less." I looked around at those present.
That was when Miss Hoshizaki's hand went up. "Me. I got a little over one hundred thirty thousand."
"Ah, so you're up next," I said.
"Do we, er, really have to show our accounts?"
"Of course you do, girl," chided Ms. Futarishizuka. "You waited until after I was out of the running. You didn't inflate your view count just to dodge the last place penalty, did you? I'd rather you stick to inflating your age."
"I did no such thing!"
"Then what's the problem? Hmm?"
"Please bring up your channel, Miss Hoshizaki." I offered her the remote.
She seemed to resign herself and pushed a few buttons. Soon, the screen showed a channel called Currently Enrolled High School Girl's Dance Class.
"Sheesh. Talk about an embarrassing name for a channel," remarked Ms. Futarishizuka.
"Sh-shut up! Who cares?"
"And your thumbnails look rather obscene, wouldn't you say?"
"Rgh…"
What piqued my curiosity was the text introducing her channel. Right up front were line after line of warnings forbidding reproduction and clipping. The wording was quite firm, even threatening legal action on a case-by-case basis. Weren't introductions supposed to be a little, well, friendlier?
We had her play one of her uploaded videos, just to see. It began by showing Miss Hoshizaki dancing along to a recently popular song. She'd even gone to the trouble of assembling an outfit to wear; she'd clearly put a lot of effort into this. Her face was hidden behind a mask, but her youthful energy was on full display.
Suddenly curious, I searched the name of her channel. The results answered all my questions.
"I see you've incited a bit of criticism online, Miss Hoshizaki," I pointed out.
"Ngh!" Her shoulders went up and she cringed. Very conspicuous. She seemed to be aware of the situation. "It's… It wasn't my fault! Someone cut up my videos and re-uploaded a compilation of clips that emphasized all the, um, sexier parts! Now the whole internet is bullying me. I keep taking down the re-uploads, but they keep cropping back up…"
That was apparently the reason for her interest in DMCA complaints. The kind of anonymous malice you encountered online was difficult to handle for a teenager with limited experience. I understood; once when I was still in school, I'd browsed a porn site and gotten a computer virus.
"But to put it bluntly," said Ms. Futarishizuka, "you lured them in using that very appeal, didn't you?"
"No! I was just, um, dancing! I wasn't thinking about that stuff. I didn't mean to upload lewd videos or anything. It's just, well, there are always people who, uh, will view you that way, so…"
Your eyes are wandering, I thought. It was easy to imagine her doing a little dance and getting a bunch of views, then letting the success get to her head and going overboard. She knew what the viewers were there for, but kept telling herself she wasn't playing up to them.
Let's see here… Oh, there's even an explainer website," said Ms. Futarishizuka.
"Huh?!"
"What is Currently Enrolled High School Girl's Dance Class?" Ms. Futarishizuka abruptly began to read the text on her screen. "A channel where a self-professed 'currently enrolled' high school girl dresses up and dances. Several videos were made by clipping only the sexiest parts, giving way to a spat between the uploader and—"
"Stop! Quit reading that! Please!"
The internet was a terrifying place indeed. Videos like that, made without permission from the rights holder, probably weren't very profitable. Who would make one, and why?
"Perhaps someone from the same line of work is jealous of your youth, hmm?"
"Uh… Yeah, I didn't even think of that!"
Ms. Futarishizuka's comment reminded me of the sinister side of such websites. I found myself convinced—that had to be it.
"You could have just asked the youngest daughter," she continued. "She'd have fixed it right up."
"I couldn't! It's too embarrassing!"
"Miss Hoshizaki, people are on the verge of figuring out your address from the layout of your room," I pointed out. "You may want to deal with this sooner rather than later. Someone on this site is investigating the scenery outside your window from the body-length mirror in the videos."
"What?!"
I showed her the explainer site on my phone. She looked at it, and her face went pale.
She wasn't the only person at that address—her younger sister lived with her. The idea that this issue could affect her family had her terrified. Now even her motherly pride began to buckle.
"Mother, I ask that you rely on your youngest daughter for this."
"I'm sorry. Erm, I know I'm a failure of a mom. But would you mind helping me out anyway?"
"Acknowledged. I am deleting all relevant videos across the internet. In addition, I am wiping all websites and social media posts on this topic. Going forward, I will make periodic rounds to ensure similar data does not reappear on the network."
"I'm really sorry about this. It's so dumb."
"If you're truly sorry, then no more making videos in sexy outfits, understand?"
"Rgh…"
"Grandmother, Mother is sufficiently repentant. Do not press her any further."
And thus the link between Miss Hoshizaki and Type Twelve continued to grow. For the time being, our senior would doubtless feel even more indebted to the youngest daughter. At this rate, would we ever be able to convince the mechanical life-form to return to her home planet?
"Ah, so that's why you had such a sour face while watching us cosplay today," added Ms. Futarishizuka.
"..."
Miss Hoshizaki fell completely silent. Even her expression went blank.
Unable to keep watching their exchange, I decided to move on with the results. "Anyway, let's keep going. Does anyone have less than one million views?"
I decided to go ahead and add a whole digit; that was about where my neighbor and Abaddon were at. Judging from Type Twelve's composed demeanor, she probably had a comfortable lead. I felt certain my neighbor would come in third.
And, as expected, she raised her hand. Abaddon joined her.
"Ochiba Kareki's channel falls under that amount, mister."
"The view count was around ninety-three hundred thousand when we checked earlier this evening, right?"
No other hands went up.
Ms. Futarishizuka immediately snapped at me. "You? A million views?"
"Nobody else raised their hand, so my neighbor and Abaddon take third place. I believe we all know what they've been up to, so we can skip over looking at their channel."
"Hey! Stop ignoring me!"
"Moving on. Is anyone under two million views?" I asked, looking around the room. No response. "It seems the answer is no. Anyone under three million views?"
"Father, the youngest daughter falls within that threshold."
Type Twelve's hand went up, and everyone's attention shifted to her. It seemed they were all just as curious about her videos as Ms. Futarishizuka was about mine.
"Three million views in two weeks? Those are better numbers than most pros. I've been watching the rankings for the last two weeks. I didn't see any newcomers like that! What did you do? And where did you do it?"
"Grandmother, please watch this and confirm."
At that, several midair displays appeared around us. All of them showed different channels on the video submission site. Judging by their names and thumbnails, they were all individual uploaders streaming original music videos.
What made me curious were the languages of each page. Aside from Japanese and English, I saw German, French, Chinese, Russian, and Arabic. There were even a few I didn't recognize. Each of the channels had anywhere from a few thousand to a hundred thousand subscribers, and the view counts were what you'd expect based on those numbers.
Going by the view counts on individual videos, my neighbor had her beat in a few cases. But add them all together, and the total was enormous. I could imagine it might come out to around three million.
"Are these channels all yours, girl?" asked Ms. Futarishizuka.
"Grandmother, your assumption is correct."
Type Twelve played one of the videos with a relatively high view count. The sound was trendy and current, and the visuals were gorgeous. The video quality was on par with a professional production. The song, too, was on the level of tie-in songs for famous TV shows and expensive advertisements. With a little more time, their popularity would have only continued to skyrocket.
"Relying on numbers to do your work for you, eh?" remarked Ms. Futarishizuka. "Don't you think that's cowardly?"
"Grandmother, my strategy is not prohibited by the rules we determined beforehand."
She'd certainly done more work than any human would have been capable of in the same time frame. But the quality of her videos was by no means out of this world. It would be impossible to use her channels to deduce the existence of mechanical life-forms, and she hadn't broken any rules.
"The youngest daughter communicated at the outset that she, too, wished to spread her wings throughout the world as a YouTuber. I judged that gaining a small amount of adoration from a large swath of humanity was a safe approach in regard to both efficiency and risk management."
"And it worked. Man, that's so frustrating."
"I wouldn't have expected any less from Type Twelve," I added.
Everyone seemed impressed by her video. Contrary to our reactions, however, Type Twelve's next remarks were somewhat sad.
"However, for whatever reason, I feel rather empty.".
"What do you mean, girl?"
"While the many adoring comments have certainly warmed my heart, I cannot help but feel as though joining the family onstage yesterday soothed my heart even more."
She must have been thinking of Ochiba Kareki's collaboration with the Masked Sailor and the Demonic Middle Manager. Type Twelve had helped my neighbor and Abaddon during the production.
"The pleasure derived from creating something alongside one's family is very special indeed."
Type Twelve's face was an impassive mask as she spoke, but her voice held a tinge of sentimentality. None of us were sure how to react.
Silence reigned for a few moments.
Eventually, Ms. Futarishizuka spoke up. "Well, of course it is."
"Grandmother, how can you state that so definitively?"
"Making these videos wasn't enough to stir your heart, was it? It doesn't matter how many humans you get to listen to you, I'm sure it's no different from feeding the koi in someone else's pond. How much can that truly soothe your soul?"
"..."
The grandmother wasn't mincing words, and the youngest daughter fell silent. She must have hit the nail on the head.
I expected that any mechanical life-form, with their crazy-advanced super-science, was capable of producing a couple hundred music videos in only a few minutes. I was afraid to ask, though. What if it hadn't even taken her that long?
"So? How do you feel?" pressed Ms. Futarishizuka.
"I am reminded of Father's words."
"Oh, really?"
"He told me that the information one gathers is not the important part. Instead, it is the process, the environment, and the points of contact or terminals involved in communication that truly matter. The content of my conversations at school and the comments I received on my videos might be the same, but the difference in process has produced a very different response."
"A father's words are mighty indeed."
Father has proven fitting for his role."
"Please don't make too much of me," I said. "I'm not sure how to feel about it."
"So?" said Ms. Futarishizuka, turning her attention to me. "What video has the high-and-mighty father uploaded that racked up so many views?"
Her firm stare was practically begging for me to divulge my secret. I hadn't intended to string her along, but I also hadn't intended to get first place in the contest. It was by no means a calculated result.
"With regard to that, I'd ask you all to watch this video."
I took the remote from Miss Hoshizaki and opened the list of videos on my own channel. There were several, and most of them hadn't gotten above a three- or four-digit view count. I also had far fewer videos than the others—so few, in fact, that they were all visible on the screen at once.
But one of them, right in the middle of the list, had surpassed four million views.
"What in blazes? I think one of those videos is glitched," said Ms. Futarishizuka.
"What the heck did you do, Sasaki?" asked our senior colleague. "It must have been something awful."
"Please don't make me out to be disreputable, Miss Hoshizaki. I assure you, this is a proper and respectable video."
I selected the thumbnail and played the video.
In it, a middle-aged man on a walk through a nice part of Karuizawa was, to his great misfortune, attacked by a wild bear.
It had all happened while I was strolling around Ms. Futarishizuka's neighborhood, unable to think of any ideas for a video. Peeps wasn't with me that day, so I'd been out alone—which meant I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. At some point, a bear had come right up behind me, with two cubs.
"I used both Japanese and English in the title, which appears to have borne fruit." In that respect, I'd done the same thing as Type Twelve.
The man ran away in a complete panic, but the bear was tenacious in its pursuit. The man tried climbing a tree, spreading his arms wide and shouting, and even throwing a rock or two in a desperate bid to deter the bear. The whole thing lasted several minutes.
And all of it was caught on camera.
"Is that you, Sasaki? Wait, but there's a mosaic over the face."
"I obviously didn't want to expose my identity, so I added that in editing."
"Mister, you literally just got attacked by a bear. Are you okay?"
"Fortunately, nobody was around to see it or record it. It's hard to tell in the video, but I had to put up a barrier to prevent its claws and teeth from getting to me. The bear just wouldn't give up, though…"
"I saw this video on some news sites," mused Ms. Futarishizuka. "Dialogue between man and bear! I thought I recognized the voice, but I never thought you were the one who uploaded it."
"What does 'dialogue between man and bear' mean?" I asked.
"Don't you get it? This thing popped off because of how funny you were acting. You're clearly flustered by the bear, but you're still so calm. It's a riot."
"Oh, well. I haven't seen any news coverage since I've been so busy lately…"
While I could always use magic if worse came to worst, the ordeal had still been terrifying. And I couldn't bring myself to hurt the animal, so I'd wound up just waiting it out. It was only because of the healing magic Peeps taught me that I'd been able to take the time to consider my options.
After it was finally over, I remembered my camera had been rolling and uploaded the video. A few days had passed since then, and it had made its way through social media, reaching a shocking number of views.
"Not that I believe you'd cheat," said Ms. Futarishizuka, "but the bird didn't secretly help you, did he?"
"I have done no such thing, whelp. Your suspicions are unfounded. Do not direct them at me."
Peeps had offered to help me right at the beginning of the contest. As I'd expect of the Starsage, though, he boldly denied her accusation without the slightest hint of guilt.
"Anyway, this means that you won, and I came in dead last."
"Mister, according to the rules of the contest, whoever gets the most views can ask one favor of the person in last place, right?"
"What are you gonna have her do, Sasaki?"
My neighbor and Miss Hoshizaki were very quick to ask about the prize.
To be honest, I couldn't think of anything. "Well…"
"Thinking of something erotic, perhaps? Oh, is my chastity in danger? Hmm?"
"I guess it'd be a waste to just tell you to stop sexually harassing me."
"Ugh, that would be so boring!"
But there was nothing I needed from her. And I didn't want to complicate our relationship by saying something careless. Was there anything harmless I could ask her that was still big enough to satisfy my neighbor and Miss Hoshizaki? I thought about it.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
Who could that be? I hadn't arranged any meetings. Was Miss Inukai here to deliver a follow-up report on the Winterfest situation?
I was dubious, but I'd been the one to book this room, so I took responsibility and called out, "Who is it?"
"It's me. Sorry, but I want to talk to you for a moment."
Through my earphone, I heard an English voice along with supplementary audio in Japanese. Maybe it was Captain Mason. "One moment, please."
I pushed the door open and welcomed our guest inside. As I'd surmised, I found Captain Mason standing in the hallway. Magical Blue was next to him dressed in street clothes instead of her school uniform or her magical girl outfit. I'd seen her in this pre-transformation state a few times at school.
The captain looked at the others in the room. "Hrm? Everyone else is with you?"
"Should I ask them to leave?"
"No, this is fine, actually."
I gestured for the captain and Magical Blue to come in.
Everyone looked at us, confused. This was Lady Elsa and Prince Lewis's first meeting with them—although I was pretty sure the captain knew about the two of them from their videos.
"I apologize—there isn't really anywhere to sit," I said. "What can I do for you, sir?"
Though I felt bad about it, I skipped over all the introductions and got right down to business. I was filled with anxiety. Why did the captain want to talk to me?
"Ever since the mechanical life-form arrived, you all have been involved in a wide range of activities. In response, nation states and other groups both foreign and domestic have begun to take action. To cut straight the point, we've discovered a link between several of the terrorist groups who've made contact with you."
"Should I take that to mean there's a specific group or organization commanding them from behind the scenes?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that's unsettling," remarked Ms. Futarishizuka.
"I don't mean to claim everything is linked," added the captain. "But when we looked into several of the incidents you've encountered, our investigations began to converge. I have no doubt their goal is to obtain the mechanical life-form."
If the captain's words were true, then our family activities, the disturbances at Type Twelve's school, and our participation in this year's Winterfest all began to take on a kind of meaning. Of course, this still amounted to only one portion of our many enemies.
"Mason, no lowly human will ever be able to capture a mechanical life-form."
"Yes. We think the same, ma'am. However, there are plenty of people in the world that can't accurately gauge their opponent's strength. In any case, we've managed to uncover an international activist network behind multiple terrorist organizations."
The captain spoke politely to Type Twelve, just like Mr. Akutsu did. It gave me a sense of the delicate power balance maintained by everyone involved.
"Excuse me, sir," I said. "May I ask why you are coming to us with this?"
"We'd like your help with something," said the captain, drawing himself up.
The way he said it filled me with apprehension.
"…What might that be?" I asked.
"Mister Sasaki, will you join us in our counteroffensive? My home country thinks very highly of you. We believe that your help will be vital to the success of this operation."
"In that sense, sir, we've been fortunate enough to help you many times in the past already…"
This was strange. Why was he speaking to me about this? I doubted our boss would go against Captain Mason, so why hadn't the captain contacted him instead? That was how our orders usually came to us.
But the captain's next words chased away all my suppositions.
"For the time being, your boss has temporarily loaned you out to us."
What? Um, sir, would you mind explaining?"
Hold on a minute, I thought. Nobody told me anything about this.
"We want you to come to our country and serve under our command, Mister Sasaki."
"..."
Of all things, a trip abroad? Right at the end of the year?
Hadn't Mr. Akutsu promised us that once our work was over, we'd finally get a break?