Book 6 Chapter 1
I want to be alone.
If I am, I won’t cause any trouble for anyone.
Then mom and dad and everyone can smile again.
It really was no more than a coincidence.
I just so happened to hear that voice.
“…”
It had been a while, so I decided to visit the secret base I had made as a kid. But someone was already there. I can still remember that small girl’s words spoken so weakly with her dark, dark eyes wavering and her bangs falling over her face.
…I was the same. At about the same age, I had worked really hard, gotten first place in swimming, and won a small plastic trophy. But when I got home, I found raised voices and flying plates. Before I could explain what it was, the toy-like trophy was snatched from my hands and thrown against the wall.
My stepmom, Erika, Ayumi, and the Class Rep saved me. My parents had their reasons, but if not for those kind people around me, I don’t know if I would have made it.
Sakai Iori had no one like that.
Could I accept that? Even if it was just an issue of population distribution?
I looked up at a giant skyscraper dyed red by the setting sun.
“Maxwell.”
“Sure.”
“Laugh at me and call me dumb.”
“No. I do not have such a high-level and meaningless ability.”
I was at Kukyou 1st Broadcasting.
I knew it far too well after it was used as the grand stage for the Colosseum where Archenemies were made to fight to the death. That had not left me with a good impression of the place, so I felt no need to hold back now.
Manufactured abuse.
Adults hoping it would escalate.
A fabricated scoop to earn money, ratings, and profit.
…And no matter how much of a farce it was, there was still a girl covered in bruises who had forgotten how to cry and simply hung her head in exhaustion.
“Senpai.”
Someone called out to me, so I looked back and saw my cute underclassman walking up. That was Itou Helen, a high school girl with wavy blonde hair cut to shoulder length. She was also a Circe Witch Archenemy and the young Queen of the Colosseum who had survived the Five Battles Precipice constructed by that hellish bunny girl and her cohorts.
“Sorry about getting you involved in this.”
“What are you talking about? This just means there’s someone else who needs a helping hand like I did, right? How can I ignore that?”
She really was a good girl.
Since I had gotten her involved, I swore to myself I would not let any harm come to her.
And I spoke once more as if making a challenge to the building in front of us.
“Let’s get started.”
“Yes.”
“Sure. I await your command.”
While walking through the twilight, I went back over everything just to be sure. I was mostly making sure Itou Helen had a full understanding of the situation.
“There is an online joke called the Perfect Lover. It’s about a lady-killer who can make any girl his. Now, Itou-san, what kind of person would that have to be?”
“I feel like the very question is making fun of me.”
“It’s just a hypothetical.”
“Hmm, in that case… I guess it would have to be a reliable person who you could trust no matter what.”
“…”
“Hm? Ah, don’t tell me!”
“Ho ho. So you’re the kind who doesn’t mention looks or grades. Good, good.”
“Wait, Senpai, was that a kind of psychological test!?”
My adorable underclassman was blushing and flailing her arms around, but unfortunately, that was not the answer to the online joke.
“Looks, academic records, money, sociability. There are a lot of factors, but there is one surefire method. That lady-killer just needs a single faithful lackey.”
“…Wait.”
“He just has someone thoroughly investigate the girl’s likes and weaknesses and then makes a show of being completely on her wavelength. And if there are any rivals, he just has to kill all of them to make it a sure thing.” I spoke quietly and quickly. “But in this case, it’s a TV station and not a lady-killer that’s trying it. And for business, not self-interest. I want to stop them before they cause an incident on camera to improve their ratings.”
“But, Senpai, this is real and not just a joke. If they do that for TV, won’t they get arrested?”
“If it was a definite murder or robbery, sure. But there’s still no clear answer to whether violence in a closed household is a civil or criminal matter. Even the police have a hard time intervening. And depending on how they edit the footage, abuse can be more shocking than a simple murder. It’s a gray zone and it’s incredibly effective. It’s the perfect opportunity for someone wanting to fabricate a story.”
“Sure,” said Maxwell. “The primary culprit is almost certainly the TV station, but that is not the whole story. There should be a job list that connects to many more villains via the so-called flow of money. If we can acquire that, we could make a full sweep of the criminal structure from the center to the outermost edges.”
“Um, there isn’t going to be anyone as dangerous as a hitman this time, is there?”
“No. In the end, it’s only the parents actually hitting the child. But there are tons of ways of inspiring their anger from the outside. Such as hacking the kid’s account. Then they can make it look like the small child is going on message boards behind her parents’ back and complaining about the family rules or that she’s spending a ton of money on online games or porn sites.”
“That is merely an example, but we should discover the actual methods being used once the network of villains has been exposed,” said Maxwell.
What I had to do was simple.
I had to end this shitty school play about manufactured abuse. To do that, I had to get some evidence from the monsters who were trying to capture the escalation on camera and spread it around the nation.
A filming team had been indirectly sent to hang out around Sakai Iori’s home while she was exposed to the violence of abuse. Once they had enough footage, they would report on it. Without any concern for her privacy.
Maxwell listed off the information we had pulled from the TV station’s truck parked on the street.
“The target is Shindou Matsuri. Age: 28. Sex: Female. She belongs to the News Production Department. The Colosseum broadcast was really more of an extreme variety show, but on paper, it was treated as a news broadcast and her name was on the claims of freedom of speech and freedom of the press that were used to avoid the various charges of ethics violations.”
“Since the Bright Cross lost, she must have taken a lot of damage to her career. So did she rush for a bunch of easy scoops to recover the station’s trust in her?”
“…”
Itou Helen’s expression grew a bit dark as she walked beside me. Was she recalling the Colosseum, or was she sad to hear that tragedy had yet to fully end?
…I could not ignore this now that my stepmom, Amatsu Yurina, had told me the identity of the Calamity. I could already see the countdown rising to the surface here.
“There was only so much we could do from outside the TV station. They’re a part of the mass media, so their servers are strictly defended. I thought I could go after the backup hard disk or the tablet that Shindou Matsuri herself carries around, but it isn’t going to be that easy.”
“Um?”
“She is afraid of a cyber attack,” explained Maxwell. “The tablet is kept in a case lined with lead to block any signals and it only transmits data irregularly and briefly, so hacking in would be difficult. And the backup hard disk is stored in a thick safe within the TV station building, so it is out of reach.”
“So you have to do something about that?”
“Exactly. If we can’t do anything, we just have to change tack. In other words, we have her bring it out for us.”
That said, we could not exactly sneak in the back entrance with our faces hidden by full-face helmets. Security was all in the setup. The position of each and every security camera and sensor had a purpose, so they had the board set up in their favor from the start, just like a chess problem. So no matter how hard we tried, sneaking in like it was a spy movie would not be possible.
But what did that matter?
That just meant it was time to fight outside the ring. Why would I bother moving onto the board at all? I could have done it on my own, but it helped a lot to have a victim who had the TV cameras directly aimed at her during the Colosseum.
“Let’s do this as planned.”
“Understood, Senpai.”
“If you have any trouble, put on those glasses I gave you. Yes, the smart glasses. What you should say will be displayed on them in text.”
Itou Helen and I entered the TV station through the front reception area.
And the tiny witch immediately started speaking to the receptionist who had the perfect business smile.
“I would like to speak with the station manager. Please take me to him.”
“What? Um, excuse me, but who are you? Do you have an appoint-…”
“Oh? Are you sure that’s the official response your station wants to give?” Itou Helen’s expression remained unchanged. “I thought we could settle things out of court regarding that Colosseum from the other day, but if you’re going to drive me out like this, then court it is. It doesn’t bother me. My lawyer suggested I discuss some details that will benefit both our futures, but it sounds like this is going to be a legal battle instead. Inciting a minor to murder, abduction, assault, using public airwaves to broadcast live murders, and profiting from gambling. You also stole away my clothes in the name of changing costumes, didn’t you? If we start tearing the scabs off the partially-healed wounds, just how many people here will end up behind bars? And it all comes down to your decision here. It isn’t a problem for me, but just how much resentment will you earn?”
“W-wait just a moment!!”
The receptionist’s behavior changed entirely. She occasionally glanced over at us while calling someone on an internal line.
“(…You have nerves of steel.)”
“(…Not as much as you, Senpai.)”
As we lightly elbowed each other’s sides, the sweating receptionist set down the receiver and faced us again.
“Th-the person in charge of such matters will be down shortly. Please have a seat over there and wait.”
“Thank you.”
We walked over to a corner lined with small tables and quietly discussed our next move.
“Itou-san, you buy time while gathering as much attention as you can. The smart glasses will give more specific instructions.”
“Um, this isn’t Maxwell-san, is it?”
“It’s Laplace. But don’t worry. Laplace isn’t a bad girl. Hey, take care of my cute underclassman. You’d better not let her get a single scratch.”
My smartphone gave a quick vibration. It probably meant “leave it to me” or something like that.
“The supercomputer that supported the Colosseum is baring its fangs against all of you now. It’s time you had a taste of your own medicine.”
I glanced over at the man who approached. He was halfway between being middle-aged and elderly, he wore a fancy suit, and he was rubbing his hands together.
“Hello, hello. Good to see you again!” he said while I left Itou Helen and entered a wave of people.
I was not going further inside the building.
We had a different job.
“Maxwell, let’s get back to birdwatching. How is the bike courier doing?”
“Sure. The online arrangements have already been made.”
“This would be so much easier if I could just disguise myself as the bike courier and get inside.”
“Small and medium sized companies rely on outside security services. Adding your data into the courier company’s personnel database would be simple enough, but the receptionist will likely remember what the usual delivery person looks like.”
No matter how much you messed with the computers, you would eventually find people standing in your way.
But we could use that to our advantage.
I left the TV station as quickly as I could without being conspicuous and approached the building across the road.
It was a commercial building that primarily offered a gym and an indoor pool. It did good business thanks to the rumors saying that entertainers used it in secret and would change there and leave from an underground parking garage to avoid the paparazzi. Whether or not that was true was another matter.
But that was not what I was there for.
I unlocked a trunk room I had rented under a fake name and walked in. This space had apparently been a later addition to the building and its most noticeable feature was the frosted glass windows you wouldn’t normally need for a storage room. They would get mad if someone holed up inside a storage room, but there were bags of snacks, drink bottles, a blanket, a pillow, and an outdated tower computer inside.
…Now.
“Let’s resume the laser eavesdropping. I’ll move the rod, so you handle the data processing.”
“Sure.”
Laser eavesdropping used a device that sent an invisible beam of light to a window and read the miniscule vibrations in the glass to read the voices of the people inside. That let you bug a place without having to sneak in and attach a device or to go back in to change the battery. …And it was best kept a secret that you could get all the necessary parts by dismantling some common electronics and toys.
Lest you forget, I’m the person who built a functional disaster environment simulator all on my own. I kind of liked that kind of soldering work.
There were a lot of people I would have to track in the buildings: Itou Helen, Shindou Matsuri, the bike courier who would be showing up later, and a random AD.
“An off-road bike loaded with a cargo box has stopped in front of the main entrance. Based on the license plate, it is definitely the bike courier.”
“That was fast. Contact Itou-san. Have her go to the bathroom or something. She just needs to leave the area for a bit. Have her drop off the item we gave her in advance.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and locate the AD of Shindou Matsuri’s section. Send them a targeted message.”
Security was strict on the TV station’s central server and on the devices belonging to Shindou Matsuri, who was up to no good. But the phones of everyone around her were a different matter. We could infect them all we wanted.
“Who is your primary target with the laser eavesdropping?”
…I really did want to keep an eye on my cute underclassman, but I had to harden my heart here.
“The overall target: Shindou Matsuri.”
“I see.”
I held a rod that looked a bit like a pump-style of water gun and I moved it around outside the cracked-open window. My smartphone’s speaker played the conversation inside the TV station across the street.
“Wait! What was that email just now? I didn’t ask you to do that!!”
“Eh? But you said you wanted a hard disk sent to the video company immediately.”
“…”
“The card-sized Regix 34 with a black cover, right?”
Good, good, good.
“But how did you get it…?”
“Hm? It was just sitting on a desk over there.”
Good!
…We were of course the ones to send the email to the AD. We were also the ones to call in the bike courier. But I doubted that would be enough to get our hands on the backup hard disk full of Shindou Matsuri’s misdeeds.
The AD had given the bike courier an identical model made by the same company. It was brand new, so it had nothing at all on it. It had just been left in that general area by Itou Helen. There was no hacking involved there.
“But will Shindou Matsuri know the difference? She should be catching on that a third party is using her name here.”
I heard a shouted curse from my smartphone.
Yes, she could not believe it right away. Or maybe she would initially hope she was wrong. That was why she wanted to put her mind at ease.
“Maxwell.”
“Sure.”
Our next ask was simple.
The thick safe protecting her hard disk had a digital lock that used a fingerprint and a number, but it was not connected to the internet.
So there was nothing we could do?
Wrong. Safes like that usually had safeties built in for powerful impacts and burner flames.
“Maxwell, take control of the air conditioner for the area and continually blow hot air on the safe.”
“Sure. Based on the maker’s design document, if enough heat builds up in a single point of the thick metal, it will mistake it for an attack and enter emergency lockdown mode. Even a hairdryer can produce this effect. I may not be able to get into the building’s strict air conditioning system, but a personal fan heater that has been sitting around for a while should be enough.”
It did not matter if it was old. We didn’t have to slip past every line of defense. It did not matter if we were helpless in the face of the system’s solid defenses.
Yes, an unfeeling error could sometimes work in your favor.
In other words…
“Why…?”
I heard a confused voice.
And it quickly rose to an irritated yell.
“That should open it, dammit! Why, why!?”
…This was the critical juncture.
We could not allow her to find the real hard disk and relax, but we also could not allow her to discover we had done something to the safe.
She had to panic and think she had entered the number wrong. Or maybe wonder if she was even remembering the right number.
She could not ask anyone else for help with this, so she would have to deal with it herself.
“Uchiyama!!”
“…”
“Where’s the receipt from that bike courier!? These days, it should have a way to track the package via GPS, right!?”
I quietly clenched my fist.
And I whispered to my smartphone.
“Maxwell.”
“Sure.”
“Let’s finish this.”
I aimed the phone’s lens out the window and zoomed in to see an irritated career woman standing by the window with a tablet computer. She normally kept that in a case lined with lead to block any signals. She seemed to be operating it with her fingertip.
I heard a low rumbling in the trunk room.
It came from the cheap tower computer.
“Access confirmed.”
We could not get into the strict system of the mass media TV station. And given the situation of Sakai Iori the elf girl, we did not have time to work our way in with no hints to go off of. But the bike courier was from a smaller company with inferior information security. If we had wanted to, we could have extracted the design of their uniforms and bikes or rewritten the actual personnel database.
But dressing up in a real uniform and carrying an employee ID would not get me past the people familiar with the usual courier. The guards and receptionist who always greeted the courier would get suspicious. But that was not the only way to use their system.
“You normally wouldn’t question the QR code on the receipt. Not the AD who accepted it, not Shindou Matsuri, and not the legit bike courier. Unlike an alphanumeric URL, you can’t tell anything is wrong just by looking at it.”
We had left Shindou Matsuri extremely shaken and worried.
We had set her up to aim the lens at the QR code and access the address it pointed to.
…And that just so happened to be the cheap tower computer rumbling behind me.
“She was successfully guided to the honeypot we disguised as the package tracking site,” said Maxwell. “I am infecting her with the virus included on that site and extracting all of the tablet’s data.”
“We got her!!”
The evidence that revealed the whole picture of the manufactured abuse led by Shindou Matsuri was on both the hard disk and the tablet. We didn’t have to insist on accessing the contents of the safe. We just had to get at one or the other.
When you could not open the castle gates from the outside, you only had to get the target to unlock them from within.
It was not the program that mattered. It was all about getting Shindou Matsuri to move her fingers like we wanted.
“That said, manipulating the owner because you cannot get into the device is quite an insane way of thinking,” said Maxwell.
“These days, attackers often use fake security software warnings to get the users to change their sharing settings. Bank transfer scams using ATMs are often the same.”
Hacking and viruses did not give you absolute control of any computer. You could do a lot more damage using panic and fear to shake the humans that used them. No matter how solid the castle gates, they were easy to open from the inside.
Children’s books even tell the story of a wolf putting on makeup and pitching their voice to earn the target’s trust. And vampires like my sister can’t get in your house without being invited, right?
“But data copied through unlawful means will not be as effective as evidence.”
“We aren’t going to submit it to the police or the courts.”
Some crimes did more damage to the victim if the public at large was made aware of them. I wasn’t about to place a delicate case of abuse on the chopping block of public opinion.
I learned a few things by checking through the data extracted using the virus-infested honeypot.
I had the names of a few underground contractors, the jobs they were given to do, and the amount of money sent for each one.
“A 110 smartphone virus. That girl’s phone has been set to send 20,000 reports an hour. They should really be able to tell you can’t do that manually.”
“So did the parents get angry that she was causing the entire family trouble by making so many unnecessary reports?”
“No, it’s a bit more complicated. It’s also leaking the parents’ academic histories to the neighborhood. It looks like normal college records, but they must have a complex about their education. …After heating things up like that, the villains got the neighbors to suggest the parents were doing a poor job raising their daughter. That’s what pulled the trigger.”
Checking the smartphone would reveal the presence of the virus, but if people started whispering that it was because she had been looking at inappropriate sites, they would still question the behavior and character of the girl. Then the neighborhood would start saying the child had to have learned that kind of behavior from her parents.
Even if the girl tried to say she had no idea how her phone had gotten infected, it would only anger the people around her because they would think she was too focused on the inappropriate sites to notice what was happening. And once a child had been isolated like that, no one would listen to what she had to say. Her desperate pleas would only be seen as terrible excuses. Without actually laying a finger on her, the villains could rewrite her life and lead her parents to commit the actual violence.
…It was completely ridiculous. It felt like looking at the worst parts of online society in concentrated form. This moral hazard may have been a sign that the Calamity was finally approaching.
“Okay, let’s end this. Maxwell, check the money transfer data. Send each of the banks a request to freeze those accounts. Say they’re criminal accounts.”
“Sure.”
“Once that’s done, create a TV program planning document under Shindou Matsuri’s name and save it to a random outside online storage site. Then paste links to some lesser-used message board as if it’s something that leaked out. Title it…oh, I know. How about ‘A Shocking 24 Hours! An Undercover Mission to Divulge Cyber Thieves!’?”
“…Isn’t that exactly what we are doing?”
“That’s on purpose. Think of it as a type of revenge.”
When the contractors found their accounts frozen, they would panic and start gathering information from all over the internet. They would soon find out that it was all the contractors working on the fabricated abuse job that had their accounts frozen, so I wished I could have seen the looks on their faces when they saw the program planning document allegedly drafted by the only person who would know all of those accounts.
They would definitely strike back with a cyber war.
“The fabricated abuse was something Shindou Matsuri resorted to in order to turn around her failing life. If she drops out of TV production altogether, she will at least lose the power to influence a closed household from the outside. There’s no need to make the truth of the abuse public, so let’s just get her out of there. Let’s get her fired for causing the station so much trouble.”
At this point, there was no need to continue birdwatching from the trunk room.
…But, yes.
When I thought back on the feelings roiling in my gut, I realized I had forgotten to say anything to the villain.
“Maxwell, you don’t have to force your way into the system. Just call the TV station’s general reception desk and ask for Shindou Matsuri. Do it so it can’t be traced back to me, of course.”
“Sure. Then in lieu of a calling card, how about I make a VoIP call from the honeypot?”
“Alter the waveform of my voice too. And be thorough because a TV station is probably good at that kind of voice analysis.”
After the suspicious receptionist put us through, the hold music played for about as long as it takes to cook some cup noodles.
Was that just how busy she was, or was she being cautious?
“Wh-who is it!? Who the hell are you!?”
“Hello, hello. You still don’t know after seeing the IP I’m calling from? That’s fine.”
“A-are you that bike courier? Why!? That site! My data…! Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me with this!?”
“You should ask yourself that same question. Just like you cornered that girl’s family, it’s time you felt like you were being manipulated by an invisible phantom while you and your coworkers end up tearing at each other’s hair. You’re all under the same roof, right?”
I hung up there.
…The TV station was sure to be exposed to largescale cyber attacks for a while. And their investigative committee would eventually discover why it was happening. The whole ordeal would be revealed in the process.
“Why did you make such a risky provocation?” asked Maxwell.
“If she tries to play dumb, I’ll anonymously send that call to the higher ups of the TV station.”
No matter how deep the investigative committee dug, I doubted this incident would see the light of day. It would paint their journalistic agency in too poor of a light. But the higher ups would want a scapegoat to eject from the organization in order to calm the enraged hackers. They would want to perform some kind of ritual to achieve peace of mind, even if it was no more useful than taking a supplement with no real nutritional value. They would put an end to this and rid themselves of the impurity. And they would act quickly to make sure none of it came to light.
All we needed were documents that could convince the internal investigative committee and the higher ups. Since it did not need to qualify as legal evidence that the police or courts could use, we did not need to steal the original tablet or hard disk.
In fact, things could end up differently if this went to court. When they could just barely avoid that, the black-hearted people tended to rush toward self-preservation. If they knew with 100% certainty that such an attempt would fail, it was possible they would close ranks and protect the culprit instead. Just like complete strangers would join together during a disaster.
“This will eliminate the external pressure,” said Maxwell. “But will the girl’s parents lower their fists now that they have raised them?”
“That’s why we need to keep monitoring this. If they still don’t stop the violence, then we show no mercy. …That means her parents aren’t manipulated victims. They would be voluntary assailants, so we would have to attack them next.”
“Sure. Understood.”
I shut down the old tower computer we had used as a disposable honeypot and I spoke to the distant sacrifice.
“Time to wander in the wilderness, Shindou Matsuri.”
Once she had heard the whole story, Anastasia trembled in her towel and made a solemn statement.
“…Truth, you made just one mistake.”
“What was that?”
“You didn’t call me! No fair!! Why wouldn’t you let me help you pull off that legendary job!?”
“Why wouldn’t I!? Because you would probably treat that girl’s life like a game!”
Anastasia sighed.
“So what happened to that Elf girl?”
I sent her a photo. It was a monochrome image from a security camera outside a convenience store. It was just one piece of data buried within the daily records.
For what seemed to be a treat on the way back from the dentist, a young parent and child were sharing a nikuman split in two. They were still awkward, but there were definite smiles there.
…The problem was solved, but not everything would change right away. The mistakes that were made and the psychological wounds would not just vanish.
But those two had gathered their courage and taken the first step forward.
There was no more need to stay curled up in the depths of a dark hole. They would surely use this running start to take flight to wherever they wanted to go in this wide world.
Absolutely.
For sure.
“How nice,” said Anastasia. For once, she was completely serious. “Hey, Truth. They say 12 billion photographs are taken every day around the world. That’s why we don’t hesitate to delete them. Due to all the unmanned cameras found in security systems, drones, drive recorders, and the countless IoT appliances, there are more of them than there are people on the planet. Photography used to be limited to professionals, it was viewed as the ultimate art, and it had a veil of mysticism that led to rumors that it removed the souls of religious people or brought an early death to the middle person in shots of three people. But now not only do amateurs have access to it, but its value has dropped to the point of worthlessness. Include videos and the number goes up even more. …But.”
“But?”
“There are still photographs that seem to shake your soul when you see them, aren’t there?”
…Honestly.
The Calamity may have been approaching, but could I just wait for it to arrive?
Just as I fell into solemn thought, Anastasia continued.
“Ohhh! My blood is pumping now. We’ve got a hacker festival going on, so let’s go have some fun right this instant, Truth!!”
“I’m about to take my bath for the night, you know!?”
“I’m jetlagged, so I’m ready to go right now! But if you’re not interested that’s fine. I hear Japan is a safe country, so I can wander the streets at night all on my own.”
“Wait! No 11-year-old is doing that on my watch.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it? Seal my hotel room’s electronic lock? Actually, that would make for a decent competition.”
“Maxwell.”
“Eh? Ah!? Y-you’re on!!”
I sighed when I saw Anastasia frantically grab the robot dog with handheld game system attached. Well, as long as this would calm down this aroused state of hers. It was a lot like getting through a boring stormy night with online games.
“Sure,” said Maxwell. “You are the host country’s hacker, so I will make sure you do not lose.”
“How many times do I have to tell people that I’m not trying to be a hacker?”
[Support by] Basic Information on the Techno Parade [DELTA brain]
Once a year, an event known as a white hacker festival is held at a single location chosen from around the world. It lasts about seven days. The event is managed by a non-profit organization. No qualifications are needed to participate, so not everyone in attendance is a white hacker. And since a white hacker is an unofficial information specialist who has restricted themselves by submitting their name to the government, national intelligence agencies and the countermeasure departments of information companies will often arrive to recruit people.
Also, even though
