The heavy oak door clicked shut, completely severing the synthesized laughter and swinging beats of the party downstairs. The second-floor VIP room was so dead silent that Kairi could clearly hear the slosh of liquid as Itsuki leisurely poured more red wine into a crystal glass.
Contrary to expectations of a private corporate negotiation, the atmosphere at that moment was stifling and oppressive. Aside from the young billionaire, three middle-aged men in gray suits sat on an expensive sheepskin leather sofa. The badges of the Ministry of Defense and the Intelligence Agency pinned to their lapels reflected a cold, steely light. Their gazes pinned Kairi down without the slightest concealment—not the look given to a valued guest, but the eyes of a hungry pack of wolves staring at a lamb that had accidentally wandered into possession of a pot of gold.
Kairi stepped forward slowly, maintaining a calm, unruffled expression. His right hand hung relaxed, resting lightly at the edge of his trouser pocket. The moment the slightest hostile anomaly occurred, The Catalyth's ability would instantly activate, ready to tear through this suffocating space.
"Director Kairi. Young, brilliant—rumors do not lie," the man sitting in the middle—a neatly groomed salt-and-pepper-haired figure with the commanding presence of a senior official—spoke slowly. His voice was deep, polite, but carried an invisible weight. "Your Links Star project is truly a miracle. A magnificent step forward for humanity."
He leisurely took a sip of tea, then placed the porcelain cup back onto the table; the impact sound was light yet chillingly sharp.
"However," the man interlaced his fingers, his gaze beginning to narrow. "Brainwaves and the subconscious are an extremely sensitive domain. The extraction and storage of neural data on such a microscopic scale... if accidentally leaked or falling into the hands of hostile forces, the consequences would be catastrophic. From a national security standpoint, we evaluate what you hold as far more than just a medical or entertainment device. It is a strategic weapon."
He gestured. The subordinate sitting next to him immediately slid a thick folder stamped with a high-security classification across the glass table toward Kairi.
"The government always encourages innovation, Mr. Ren. But we also have a responsibility to manage risk," the official smiled, a smile that never reached his eyes. "This is the 'Special Security Cooperation' protocol. We require MIND to hand over the entire core source code for brainwave reading to the Intelligence Agency for evaluation and safekeeping. In return, the state will provide you with absolute legal protection."
Kairi didn't glance at the folder, simply meeting the official's gaze with unshakeable composure: "And what if I consider Links Star to be merely a civilian commercial project, unsuitable for militarization?"
The official sighed lightly, feigning the regret of an adult scolding a stubborn child: "How unfortunate. If this technology is not under state oversight, the inspection department will be forced to classify it as a 'potential security hazard.' The process of suspension, server-sealing, and comprehensive investigation usually takes... many years. A young startup on the verge of brilliant growth surely doesn't want to get tangled up in such tiresome 'administrative procedures,' do they?"
The threat was wrapped in a polished, sophisticated, and irrefutable layer of administrative language. No screaming, no death threats, yet it possessed enough weight to suffocate any enterprise.
The air in the room seemed to freeze over. Before Kairi could speak, Itsuki burst into laughter. He set his wine glass down, raising a hand to intervene, perfectly executing the role of a mediator.
"Please, gentlemen, let's take it easy," Itsuki's tone was placid, echoing steadily, though his crimson eyes remained locked onto every nuance of Kairi's expression. "Handing over sensitive technology has never been something that can be rushed. To get Links Star running as smoothly as it did today, Director Kairi here must have gone through countless prior failures... traversing numerous loops to optimize the project. If we forcefully interfere now, it would be no different from seizing the fruits of his labor, easily causing severe complications in the workflow. The consequence would be restarting everything from scratch, throwing off the entire developmental timeline that our Shiraishi Fund expects. It is simply not worth it."
The words rolled off the tongue with complete naturalness in a corporate context, yet Kairi felt a freezing jolt run down his spine. Failures. Loops. Seizing. Restarting. Timeline. He was testing him.
At that exact moment, Itsuki had silently triggered The Probabilist's skill. His eyes flashed with a faint blue light as they scanned Kairi, frantically collecting and measuring every micro-expression: breathing rate, pupil dilation, the pulse of the veins on his neck, down to the minute fluctuations of facial muscles in response to sensitive keywords.
Realizing he was standing under the scanning array of a monster, Kairi summoned every ounce of willpower to freeze his emotions. He maintained an absolute poker face, receiving Itsuki's words as if they were purely business advocacy, revealing not a single crack.
Seeing Kairi display no abnormal reactions, Itsuki smiled faintly. He turned to the three government officials, his tone suddenly turning imperious as he leveraged the Shiraishi Fund's massive network and financial might to crush them. "You may leave now. The Shiraishi Fund will take responsibility for backing and controlling this project on behalf of the state. Do not let your stupid, heavy-handed actions ruin my golden goose."
Fuming inwardly, the three government officials dared not offend the man holding the region's economic lifeline. They grunted in compliance, pushed open the door, and stepped outside. The room was now left with just the two of them.
Itsuki pushed a thick folder directly toward Kairi. It was an investment contract. The Shiraishi Fund pledged an enormous injection of capital, supporting MIND with complete hardware infrastructure, manufacturing plants, and a legal framework to commercialize Links Star globally in record time.
"Why?" Kairi asked coldly, his eyes guarded. "Why would a massive investment fund like Shiraishi risk pouring money to protect a vulnerable startup from the government?"
Itsuki leaned back in his chair, smiling nonchalantly, baring the ruthless nature of a grand manipulator.
"Pity is human beings' most expensive emotion, and also the easiest to manipulate," he interlaced his fingers. "You created a machine capable of plumbing deep into brainwaves and extracting the most private memories. What I am buying is not that mindless hologram display, but the privileged access to the massive reservoir of mind data that Links Star will harvest once it goes global. He who holds the emotional and cognitive map of humanity holds the future. Such a bargain—I could not let it fall into the hands of those short-sighted government fools."
As he spoke, Itsuki leisurely tapped his index finger against the glass table. "Traffic around this area has been tight lately. Police can tow an illegally parked van on a street corner at any moment... along with everything inside it."
Kairi's pupils contracted slightly. The threat targeted the exact spot where Yume and Ginji were hiding to support him. The enemy was fully aware of every single move. There was no way out; if he refused now, MIND would be torn apart by the government, and his teammates wouldn't live to see tomorrow's sun.
Kairi intended to activate his ability, but realized the room had long since been surrounded by Itsuki's bodyguards. Acting recklessly might not even grant him the conditions required by his power.
Kairi picked up a pen, signing his name without hesitation onto the cold paper. Play along to defeat them. Accepting blood money from the enemy was an extremely perilous move, but it was also his sole ticket to burrow deep inside Shiraishi's ecosystem and unearth a fatal flaw to finish him off.
Task completed, Kairi folded the contract and turned to leave. Stepping out into the main lobby of the building and meeting the biting cold night air, he discreetly glanced toward the dark alley across the street. Surely Yume and Ginji had monitored the situation via camera and safely retreated by now.
The tires of the armored limousine rolled smoothly over the asphalt toward the suburban estate. The interior was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and wine.
Itsuki leaned back against the plush seat, a phone held loosely to his ear. On the other end, a high-ranking subordinate's voice came through hesitantly, asking how to handle Goro—the CEO of Tanaka Logistics who had dared to cause a scene at the banquet.
"Cut off all their credit lines," Itsuki ordered coldly, his gaze completely steady. "Freeze all shipping routes, ban all Shiraishi partners from trading with Tanaka Logistics, and make all their financial scandals public. Give him three days to clear out under a bridge."
With a single casual sentence, a logistics empire had been sentenced to death. Itsuki hung up, a faint, cold smirk crossing his lips as his retina automatically displayed the skills analysis table harvested from Kairi earlier:"Probability subject Kairi Ren is a Time Breaker: 20%. Probability subject has close ties to a Time Breaker: 70%."
Kairi had concealed his emotions too brilliantly—an airtight facade that was almost absurdly flawless in the face of fatal keywords. Yet Itsuki knew that this very invisible restraint and zero biological volatility served as living proof that he was hiding a colossal secret. The prey had truly stepped into the net.
Screeech—!!!
The sound of burning rubber screeched deafeningly, knocking the wine glass out of Itsuki's hand. The limousine halted abruptly in the silent night of the mountain pass road.
"What the hell is going on?" Itsuki frowned, peering through the windshield.
A few meters ahead of the car, a towering dark figure blocked the middle of the road. The man wore a tattered, hooded cloak, radiating an unnatural chill. Ignoring the blinding glare of the headlights shining straight into his face, he stood completely motionless, his mouth hidden behind dark fabric muttering bizarre, deranged phrases.
The two bulky bodyguards in the front seats immediately drew their guns, preparing to shove their doors open and clear the road.
"Stay back!" Itsuki barked. His sharp olfactory senses had caught a pungent odor drifting in through the ventilation gap. Gasoline. Thick and heavy.
The very next second, the cloaked man threw his head back and burst into wild, lunatic laughter. From beneath his robes, he pulled out a rusted Zippo lighter. Clack. The crisp sound of the cap flipping open rang out in the dead of night. He dropped the burning lighter straight down at his feet.
WOOSH!
The fire flared up violently in the blink of an eye, swallowing the fanatic into a blinding pillar of flame. The sizzling sound of burning fat mingled with a spine-chilling scream that tore through the night: "THE DAWN SHALL COME! THE LORD OF LIFE SHALL RETURN!"
The horrifying scene unfolded right before their eyes. The man danced in the flames like a suicide moth offering devotion, until the sky suddenly thundered. A sudden torrential downpour poured down, cold and mercilessly extinguishing the living torch, leaving only a smoking, charred mass of flesh reeking on the pavement.
Itsuki pushed the door open and stepped out of the car, letting the raindrops pelt his expensive suit. He walked coldly toward the corpse, his crimson eyes narrowing. On the shattered asphalt, lying beside the pile of ashes, was a metallic object that hadn't melted away. He bent down and picked it up.
It was a sun-shaped badge, its corner bizarrely chewed away. The emblem of the Church of the Primordial Dawn.
"Take this body back," Itsuki tossed the badge to the trembling bodyguard. "Dissect it. Search every single millimeter." "Oh, and don't forget to clean up the traces around here."
An hour later, at the Shiraishi estate.
Itsuki had just stepped out of the bathroom draped in a silk robe when a high-ranking subordinate was already waiting by the door, his face as pale as a sheet of paper.
"Chairman..." The subordinate swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "The corpse from the self-immolation earlier... after DNA testing... it's Kenshi, the subordinate you sent to infiltrate the Church to deliver the negotiation letter."
Itsuki's hand, drying his hair, froze in place.
"And even worse..." The subordinate held out a silver tray. Atop it was a small scroll made of a special fire-resistant material, still flecked with charred flesh. "We fished this out... from deep inside the corpse's throat."
Itsuki picked up the scroll, gently unfolding it. Inside was scribbled a single line of text:"Midnight tomorrow. The old brick kiln at the foot of Mount Takao."
Itsuki slowly tightened his grip, crushing the paper into scrap. His breathing grew heavy, the corners of his lips gradually curling into an extreme, ecstatic smile laced with manic bloodlust. He realized that the subordinate's life and the intimidating self-immolation stunt weren't just a response letter—it was a bloody threat from the higher-ups of the Church.
The game on this chessboard had officially broken past the boundaries of science, stepping straight into the domain of madmen.