Chapter 115 Heading for Tokyo
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The Edo River once marked the boundary between Chiba and Tokyo.
However, the ravages of war have since fused the Edo, Nakagawa, and Arakawa rivers into a single, massive brackish waterway: the Shin-Tone River¹. Now spanning a maximum width of five kilometers, it cleaves through Tokyo’s eastern side like a jagged fissure torn into the earth. About half of its volume consists of seawater. Between the pervasive ground fissures and the general state of fracture across Honshu, travel has become considerably more arduous than it was in the pre-war era.
”I wonder how long it’s been since I was in a car,” I mused quietly.
We were traveling in a passenger car—an exceptionally rare sight these days. After disembarking from our palanquin at Ichihara town, we secured this charcoal-powered relic of the previous century. Even amidst a war, people are surprisingly willing to assist a male on a journey. I was truly grateful.
Our party of country folk was currently winding through the Chiba highlands, having just crossed the marshlands before the Shin-Tone River to continue our northward ascent toward Tokyo.
Given the deplorable road conditions, the drive to Tokyo takes two full days. It’s a journey defined by aching backsides and an assault on the nostrils. These charcoal burners operate via the incomplete combustion of briquettes or wood, making them filthy, hazardous, and foul-smelling. Watching the crew start the engine in the dead of winter—pouring distilled spirits over it and lighting it ablaze just to warm it up—offered a glimpse into a level of historical nonchalance that seemed utterly inconceivable by modern standards.
* * *
Along a narrow farm road, a dozen or so armed bandits suddenly surrounded the vehicle.
However, the moment they realized I was on board, they immediately capitulated and apologized profusely. Since we weren’t carrying anything of great value, I presented them with an imperial grant in the form of a handkerchief. They were overjoyed, not only clearing the path but even volunteering to guide us toward better-maintained roads. When I jokingly asked if they weren’t going to kidnap me, they simply laughed it off.
As for the driver, she’s a guide sent from the Imperial Capital⁴ to escort us on this sightseeing tour. Even now, she was ruthlessly scattering a crowd of commoners who were hauling handcarts.
Since the car flew a flag indicating my presence, any commoner struck by a noble’s vehicle was considered at fault. It seemed heartless, but that was simply the way of the world.
”Attention. The river’s flow will cease momentarily,” an official announcement rang out. “To all subjects, please remain calm and composed. Kindly yield the path to those around you. We repeat: the river’s flow will now stop. As proud subjects of the Empire, please demonstrate a mind of mutual cooperation.”
I gazed out the window.
Female officials were holding back the throngs in front of the Shin-Tone River. There were no bridges. In the central government of the river sat a floating island, where uniformed women thrust massive, chain-linked bronze spears into the water’s surface.
A family of fellow provincials clapped their hands in awe at the sight.
”There it is! The legendary Kawamo no Sakahoko²!” the older sister exclaimed. “Look! The water is actually receding!”
”Stop it, Big Sister!” the younger sibling replied. “If you look, you’ll be cursed! That’s a Tengu’s trick. It’s a terrifying technique—they say it’ll rot your eyes out! Hurry, we have to hide the little ones behind us!”
Ripples radiated from the point where the spears pierced the surface, as if the water were being physically struck. This was a mystical object of national renown. In Hyuga Province, also known as Miyazaki Prefecture, lies the Takamagahara³—one of Japan’s three Great Dungeons. The Sakahoko produced there possesses the power to reverse a river’s flow the moment it is thrust into the water.
It’s a vital piece of infrastructure for Japan, and such objects are frequently stationed at regional borders. Beyond managing the fractures in Honshu’s terrain, they also harness the water’s kinetic energy. In major metropolises, these artifacts are used to shuttle water back and forth across land, serving as an infinite power source. It is essentially an industrial-grade mystical object.
Shortly thereafter, the churning muddy torrent vanished, revealing the riverbed. Paved across the bottom was a magnificent road.
The logic seemed to be: if you lack the technology to build a bridge, simply submerge the path. While it felt fundamentally distorted to me, in a world where mysticism has outpaced science, constructing a road that doesn’t degrade underwater is apparently simpler than anchoring bridge piers—and it’s far harder for an enemy to sabotage or exploit. I’d just witnessed something incredible; I already felt like a tourist on vacation.
After traversing the riverbed and bypassing a minor dungeon known as the ‘Tomb of Field Nails’—a place bristling with spikes and barbed wire—we rattled through the rural districts of Koiwa, Hirai, and Kameido. We had finally entered Tokyo.
* * *
The rear of the car was arranged like a carriage, with seats facing one another. Maggot-san and my bodyguard, Vocal Slut-san, sat opposite me. In the front row, separated by a partition, sat Sow-san and the driver.
”…Hm,” I grunted softly.
I noticed that every time the car hit a bump, Maggot-san’s large breasts swayed significantly. When she caught me looking, she offered a tiny, knowing smile intended only for me. It seemed she found my reaction adorable…
”Ah, Maggot-san. There are real noble families in Tokyo, right?” I asked, pointedly changing the subject. “I had to study up on them. What was the term again?”
”The Peerage, also known as the Kazoku, Master,” Maggot-san explained. “They are the protective bulwark of the Imperial Family—former court nobles and feudal lords whose status was restructured by the government. While I speak with the utmost humility, Young Master, I must ask that you maintain perfect etiquette when you encounter them, gozaimasu.”
”So they’re basically more important than any male, so don’t be rude. Got it,” I replied.
”I am deeply grateful for your understanding, gozaimasu,” Maggot-san said.
As we drove, I reviewed the various protocols for the Imperial Capital. The defining trait of the capital as a town or street is its overwhelming sense of nobility. It is a rigid class society with staggering disparities between ranks—one of the top five wealthiest urban centers in the world.
Provincials like me often misunderstand the hierarchy, but the truth is that many females in this world are far more important than males. It’s not a matter of official positions like town mayor; it’s a matter of nobility. Key examples include the descendants of pre-war daimyo, the zaibatsu that fueled the war effort and reconstruction, and elite military clans. In the countryside, a ‘noble family’ might just mean someone keeping an old bloodline alive, but the Kazoku are those granted specific titles by His Majesty the Emperor. Thus, a newly established house might be Kazoku without technically being an ‘ancient’ noble family.
The Diet and the central government are both headquartered in the Imperial Capital, drawing important people from across the nation. These women navigate the lopsided gender ratio with total ease. To the former lords who rule over hundreds of thousands, a single male is hardly a rare treasure; he is more like a gear in the machine, or perhaps a dull yet cherished collectible. Conversely, the status these women hold is an irresistible lure to men. It’s the ultimate dream of high society. Boys all want to be princesses, after all. A male who marries into such status becomes a Duke or a Prince. Those Western-style titles really give off a medieval fantasy vibe.
”Young Master. The woman driving this car is actually from a Kazoku clan herself, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san whispered in my ear.
”Is that so?” I asked.
”She belongs to a Baroness family house, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san added.
”A noble working as a driver? I didn’t think they did manual labor,” I remarked.
”That’s not it at all, ssu! To be trusted with the duty of guiding a male for the first time, you have to have been raised around the opposite sex since you were a child. Apparently, ‘getting used to males’ is a vital qualification. It’s incredibly difficult to get the job, ssu!” Vocal Slut-san said.
”To drive a car?” I asked.
”Yes. It’s an honorable position, every bit as prestigious as being in the Imperial Guard⁵, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san replied.
”Huh. She’s so young, too. I wonder which exam is harder to pass,” I mused.
”I’ve never been either, so I wouldn’t know. Sorry, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san said.
”Yeah, I guess not. Sorry for asking,” I replied.
The driver remained stoic, never interjecting into our rambling conversation. She had the air of a chaste Kazoku lady, her long hair pinned back with a Western clip and her shirt perfectly starched. She looked like she could be a private tutor for a wealthy family.
Since my trip is a pre-packaged tour, I’ll always have guides and drivers like her nearby. In the Imperial Capital, specialists accompany you at every turn—the famous ‘male protection officers.’ These guards, having systematically suppressed any hint of sexual scent to avoid causing discomfort, are true ‘gentlewomen’ dedicated to handling men. It is a prestigious duty for lower-ranked Kazoku.
Usually, a male is considered a volatile creature just by being in a confined space; the pheromones dispersed in the air are enough to trigger arousal in most women. But these women are professionals who never betray a hint of their own desires. They know exactly how to handle someone of my age—the most sensitive and nervous stage of life. It was a relief that they understood the delicate nature of boys and didn’t intrude even when we were having casual, slightly off-color conversations.
Man, the elegant high society I’d been avoiding has suddenly become my daily life. In the capital, interacting with these nobles is unavoidable. Actually, the whole place is just one big high-society town.
I looked at Vocal Slut-san and tried to focus. Resting my chin on my hand, I watched her long, slender legs.
I was bored.
”Vocal Slut-san, your legs are really long,” I remarked.
”You think so, ssu?” she asked.
”What do you even eat to get legs like those?” I asked.
”Tofu and pickled plums, ssu. Oh, and eating white rice after it’s cooled down is really good for you. You should try it too, Young Master, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san replied.
”What is this, Edo-period folk wisdom?” I asked.
For the last few hours, we’d been ‘brainstorming’—which is to say, talking without using a single brain cell.
”That rice thing is a myth. This is future knowledge speaking,” I told her.
”No way, ssu! Does that mean the stuff about a meteor ending the world this year is also…” Vocal Slut-san started.
”…Hm? Oh, Halley’s Comet? Yeah, also a lie,” I replied.
”Phew. What a relief, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san said.
The Imperial Guards had encouraged me to talk about my previous life openly; they didn’t want me feeling like being a ‘reincarnation’ was a burden. I doubted there was another master-servant pair in the whole capital having such a blunt, nerveless conversation. This town feels like the kind of place where my collar is going to be permanently tight. Maybe I picked the wrong destination.
”Looking at the streets, it’s nothing but kids. Seeing a child carrying another child in a sling… that’s something you just don’t see anymore. It feels so Showa… well, it is the Showa era,” I muttered.
The passing landscape began to sweep the memories of our conversation away. Honestly, when I talk to her, I forget what we were discussing ten minutes later.
She caught my mumble, though.
”I used to tend the fields with my younger sisters strapped to my front and back too, ssu. I’d be swapping diapers while pruning the cucumber trellises. A baby’s potty is basically just free fertilizer for the crops, after all, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san said.
”You did say you had sisters. Your parents must have been swamped,” I said.
”My parents were out fishing from dawn, so the older sisters or the neighborhood grannies did the child-rearing, ssu. How did siblings handle things in your previous life, Young Master, ssu?” Vocal Slut-san asked.
That would be the stand-in for daycare and kindergarten.
”In my case, it was a brother and a sister. We had these guardianship centers where everyone played together. There were adults whose actual job was to watch us. A big car called a ‘bus’ would pick us up and drop us off every day. In that sense, we weren’t as close with the neighbors as you are,” I explained.
”Whoa~ that sounds like fun in its own way, ssu!” Vocal Slut-san said.
Vocal Slut-san has this way of positively affirming everything about the other world. When it’s just the two of us, we always end up derailing the conversation like this because there’s no one to keep us on track.
Outside, the scenery looked like a colorized documentary. Families in kimonos were strolling together. It was the classic pastoral landscape of post-war Japan. Every household seemed to have a swarm of children.
”Children, huh… Looking at the scenery and you, Vocal Slut-san, it made me wonder. You mentioned the other day that you wanted kids, right?” I asked.
”Yes, ssu! I really do love children, ssu!” she replied.
”You definitely have that kindergarten teacher vibe… but on the flip side, even though you don’t really seem the type, are you actually interested in the act of making them?” I asked.
”I’m a woman too, ssu. Of course I am. I hear it makes you feel like you’re ascending to heaven, so I’m looking forward to it, ssu,” Vocal Slut-san replied.
She’s willing to follow my lead no matter how far I derail things. Sometimes we end up like a runaway train. Honestly, she didn’t look the least bit interested in the ‘act’ itself.
”That vibe of yours must be something you were born with, Vocal Slut-san,” I said.
She was just so breezy about it. I’d never met anyone like her.
”Young Master, do you dislike that kind of ‘duty’?” she asked.
”I don’t dislike it. I’m aware I’m a bit different from other guys, though. I actually like hearing other people’s spicy stories. If you want, do you want to do it with me sometime in the future?” I asked.
”Wait, really, ssu?!” Vocal Slut-san was so shocked she nearly jumped out of her seat.
”Then, then, please! I’d be honored, ssu!” she added.
”Sure. Once we’re married,” I said.
”Yes, ssu!” she replied.
She was incredibly casual about it. Yet, she looked so genuinely happy she even had tears in her eyes. From her perspective, I must be the strange one. Vocal Slut-san… I’m happy too, but for me, it’s more like that weird thrill of doing something ‘bad’ with a best friend. Like finding an adult magazine during summer vacation and looking through it together. Independent research with our own bodies as the subject—I always wanted a childhood friend like that.
* * *
As we continued our ‘alien’ communication, the car’s rattling grew worse. With the screech of wet rubber, the vehicle suddenly veered off the road and clipped a tree. The driver’s side window glass cracked slightly.
I hurriedly called out to the noble lady behind the wheel.
”Are you okay? That was an actual accident,” I said.
”The wheels lost traction in the mud. The recent rain has made the roads treacherous. I apologize for the concern,” she replied in a flat, emotionless voice.
It seemed like a genuine mishap. Even though we were in Tokyo, the roads weren’t paved. When dry dirt turns to mud, accidents are inevitable with these low-performance tires. The road conditions are, frankly, terrible. The car started moving again.
Single-story wooden houses lined the streets. Vocal Slut-san and I watched the pleasant scenery. The draft coming through the cracks felt nice. Eventually, I got restless again.
”The conversation got cut off at a weird point,” I said.
”What were we talking about again, ssu?” she asked.
She’s quite something to be able to say that so easily to a male.
”You know, about men and women. You said you wanted ten kids, but is one round of intercourse even enough for that?” I asked.
”I don’t think there’s enough time, ssu. The ‘seed’ loses its vitality halfway through, ssu,” she replied.
”I see. So there’s an expiration date,” I mused.
Apparently, it’s usually five or six years—seven at the absolute most. There’s even a saying: ‘Peaches and chestnuts three years, persimmons eight; a child’s vitality lasts seven, so bear them quick.’
”I could try for twins, but they tend to be born a bit weaker, ssu,” she said.
”Amazing. You can actually choose the number,” I said.
”It’s… well, it’s about willpower, ssu! Some people can’t do it at all, while others are so good at it they can have triplets, ssu,” she explained.
Life truly is a mystery. There’s still so much I don’t know.
”I see… then will you do it with me many times?” I asked quietly.
”Ehh?! I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that much for me, ssu!” Vocal Slut-san exclaimed, sounding genuinely taken aback. It seems she feels bad about the idea of ‘free’ sex multiple times. Her boundaries are as unique as mine.
”Young Master, you’ve already reached sexual maturity, haven’t you, ssu? I’m so glad to see you’ve grown up healthy, ssu,” she said.
”Yeah, I can produce it just fine. I handle things regularly too… though it’s a pain sometimes since some of my fingers don’t work. I’ll show you sometime… oh, wait. You saw me release semen directly when we were at the grave, didn’t you?” I said.
”Yes, ssu! You looked so cool, ssu!” she replied.
”That whole misunderstanding was embarrassing. I have to be more careful in the capital… Whoa, wait!” I cried out.
While we were having our alien heart-to-heart, the car swerved into a bamboo grove. It stopped only after snapping several stalks. I peered toward the driver’s seat. Her arms were shaking against the wheel.
”U-Um… something’s definitely wrong this time. Are you feeling sick? You’ve been driving for hours; we can take a break, you know,” I offered.
”I merely clipped a curb and the wheels slipped. I am deeply sorry for the concern. We are moving again,” the driver replied.
Once back on the road, the car nearly plowed into a line of pedestrians.
”Hey, are you okay?! Driver, you almost hit those people!” I shouted.
”They were scammers trying to stage an accident. No one was hurt. My apologies for the concern,” she said.
”It definitely felt like we were the ones aiming for them, though…” I muttered.
”Yes, I’m sure it appeared that way. Malicious scammers often target expensive charcoal vehicles. They are quite common,” the noble lady replied.
She was regaining her composure and resumed driving. The tremors in her arms were subsiding. She’s a professional. The car was rattling after that stunt, but if she said it was fine, I had to trust her. Besides, once you start a charcoal engine, you can’t really turn it off until the fuel is gone. Stopping for an inspection would mean a two-hour restart process.
Still, it felt like her mental state was affecting her driving. Her cheeks looked a bit flushed too, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes, so I couldn’t be sure.
”Sow-san, are you mad because we were talking about weird stuff?” I asked.
”I am not angry. My duty is to ensure the Young Master spends his days in happiness. That is far better than seeing the Young Master plagued by nightmares every night,” Sow-san replied.
In the passenger seat, Sow-san was clearly suppressing her rage. She clearly didn’t approve of the rough driving, Vocal Slut-san’s loose lips, or the ‘chastity values’ Cult Slut-san had instilled in us. She was radiating silent pressure in every direction—even toward Maggot-san for not reining us in. Terrified, I decided to shut up. That was a lapse in judgment. Just because we always talk like this doesn’t mean I should do it when other people are around… Sorry, everyone.
* * *
We finally reached the Sumida River. This river is the official boundary of the Imperial Capital.
After exiting a parking lot filled with various cars and travel-based mystical objects, we were greeted by a massive checkpoint. A wooden wall, reminiscent of the Great Wall of China, stretched endlessly into the distance. It was about twenty meters high and spanned from one horizon to the other. This barrier forms a massive circle, encompassing multiple towns within. The vast area inside this wall is the Imperial Capital, which itself has a smaller, inner wall encircling the Imperial Palace—a double-ringed fortress. Tiled roofs lined the top of the wall, where vigilant sentries kept watch. Between the scale of the facilities and my own short stature, the place felt incredibly intimidating.
The Imperial Capital is a city entirely severed from the outside world. Ordinary women are forbidden from visiting; only authorized merchants, the wealthy, and the nobility may enter. Even the Imperial Guards are subject to strict inspections, so we had to part ways for a while. Since this trip was a sudden decision, there was a delay in processing my paperwork as a male.
In front of the checkpoint, a massive line of suppliers waited to enter. A quick glance suggested a crowd of at least a thousand. The sheer population density of Tokyo is staggering, no matter the world.
There were plenty of other young boys around, huddling around heaters in the general male waiting area and chatting. Judging by their innocent excitement, they were tourists just like me. There were so many young kids.
The Great Japanese Empire has a total population of 200 million, including its colonies. The Imperial Capital, built by the collective effort of the nation, is a premier resort destination with over 10,000 male visitors annually. Eighty percent of those are youth; apparently, the senior generation prefers Kyoto.
* * *
As I headed toward the processing line, the checkpoint’s massive main gate swung open. A gallant escort team emerged. Everyone in line immediately knelt.
The males among them knelt as well. They were helped down from their palanquins, their blindfolds removed, and they bowed their knees to the earth. It was my first time seeing men actually getting their legs dirty like that. These young men looked at the procession with a mix of humiliation and envy, yet they accepted it. Any ‘spoiled’ boy who refused to show respect was simply shoved back into a car and sent back to the countryside. It was a bizarre sight compared to everything I knew.
A line of elegant carriages rolled past in a slow, parade-like procession. I whispered to Maggot-san, who was kneeling beside me.
”What’s that? Is it an important person?” I asked.
”Likely the head of a major zaibatsu. Requiring a male to kneel is a privilege reserved for those holding a title of the second rank or higher,” Maggot-san replied.
”Second rank…” I muttered.
”Among the five ranks, that would be a Duke or a Marquis,” she explained.
”I see… Kazoku, then. I always think this, but those two titles are hard to tell apart when spoken aloud,” I noted.
”When formal distinction is required, you may refer to them as ‘Ooyake’ or ‘Sourou,’ respectively,” Maggot-san suggested.
In the city, noble status has many more nuances. The landed Kazoku titles are divided into five ranks: Duke, Marquis, Count, Viscount, and Baroness. They are ranked in that order of importance. The Kijin—a male noble title—is an exception, usually ranking alongside a Viscount.
Since Japan didn’t lose the war, the zaibatsu were never dismantled. Instead, the companies that drove the munitions industry turned on the government, became dictators, and now rule entire clusters of towns. The post-war chaos was their opportunity for independence. Chiba, by comparison, is just a ruined coastline with no backing. A zaibatsu could incinerate our home town without a second thought. A ‘small’ zaibatsu controls ten towns, each five times the size of Kujukuri-machi. A ‘large’ zaibatsu is three times that size again.
The procession took thirty minutes to pass, and everyone remained frozen in place the entire time. The scale of the wealth and manpower was immense. This must be how the townspeople feel when I pass by. We’d just been caught in a literal lord’s procession.
As the slushy, melting snow began to soak through our clothes, the atmosphere shifted yet again. Someone was cutting through the long line of the Duke’s carriage. They were walking directly against the flow of traffic, right through the central government of the path. It was two women, chatting pleasantly as they walked.
”Is it really okay for them to do that…?” I muttered.
This wasn’t a matter of etiquette. Normally, they’d just be run over. But instead, the people in the procession were the ones kneeling. Men and women scrambled out of their horse and ox-drawn carriages to clear a path for the two women with desperate haste. It was as if delaying them for even a second were a capital crime.
”I think I recognize those two from a textbook. We covered them in Cult Slut-san’s lessons. They’re the world’s strongest Psionic Power users for information warfare, right?” I asked.
”Indeed, there is no mistaking them. Those are Monju-sama and Fugen-sama. It is exceedingly rare to see them together in one place,” Maggot-san replied, her voice tinged with a rare note of awe.
Someone even more important had arrived. It wasn’t the kind of atmosphere where I could just casually ask ‘who are they?’ Not knowing who they were felt like a profound act of ignorance. Maggot-san had briefed me on their names early so I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of the others.
”The Psionic users who hit the ultimate jackpot. The kind whose powers are purely beneficial, born from a wish with no malice…” I whispered.
Those two are more venerable than any titled Kazoku. They are the only Psionic users in the country with authority equal to the Imperial Family.
”…Precognition. If the power to charm men is the theoretical number one, then this is the strongest power in practical reality,” I mused.
Their mere existence makes futures trading and insurance systems redundant. They’ve fought the World Bank and won, bankrupting it. No mystical object can see as far or as accurately as those two. To be blunt, they know the fate of the Earth.
Everyone around them was kneeling in prayer. Some were even clutching prayer beads. The air was thick with genuine reverence, which was different from the simple fear of authority I’d seen before.
There are only two future-seers in Japan, and barely a dozen in the entire world. They are independent of all politics, yet they are treated with the highest honors in every nation. Precognitive Psionic users are special.
The only international society that operates peacefully across borders was born from the lessons of World War II. After humanity nearly reset its own progress, this group was formed to prevent a second apocalypse. The internal vetting of their members—always fewer than twenty—is brutal. Anyone whose presence would negatively impact the future is seen through and rejected before they can join. Only those whose actions are guaranteed to benefit humanity are accepted, and they owe no loyalty to any nation or donor. They cannot be tempted by gain. When you join, your entire life—including the date of your death—is already mapped out. They live their lives like clockwork, never deviating. They will undergo any tragedy for the sake of peace, even if it means killing a king or their own parents. They are humanity’s final defensive wall.
They peer into the far future to prevent the world’s end, and they cannot be stopped because they’ve already dealt with every threat before it happens. Every profit-driven organization that tried to challenge them lost before the fight even started; they were peacefully disbanded before they could even make a move. Yet, they aren’t the rulers of the world.
They exist because ‘it would be a shame if males were caught in the crossfire of humanity’s self-destruction.’ They’re essentially the Men in Black—except they don’t hide.
The two women shared a quiet farewell at the checkpoint and went their separate ways. If anyone had clumsily delayed them, it could have resulted in millions of deaths. They were the ultimate VIPs. Once they were gone, the line of Kazoku finally began to move again.
It’s terrifying. The Imperial Capital is a place where people of that caliber just walk the streets. It gives me the chills, but the guys around me—with their innate ‘princess’ temperaments—didn’t seem to care about the social implications. The boys in the waiting area were already buzzing about seeing celebrities, wondering who they should try to meet, and giggling as they practiced their ‘meet-cute’ responses.
Misogyny is almost non-existent here. Males naturally gravitate toward those with social power. They don’t care about looks or personality as much as status; it’s the same logic the women in my previous life used, and I could see the same charm in it.
I finally stood up as my turn for the inspection arrived. Beyond the towering gates, a blizzard of out-of-season cherry blossom petals blew through the air. The Imperial Capital is a city of flowers. And I mean that literally—it’s absolutely covered in them.
—
Summary:
The protagonist travels toward the Imperial Capital in a rare charcoal car, witnessing the surreal infrastructure of a war-torn Japan. Along the way, he encounters regional bandits and learns about the rigid social hierarchy of the capital’s Peerage. At the gates, a chance encounter with world-class precognitive Psionic users highlights the extreme power dynamics of this world. The chapter ends as the group finally enters the blizzard of flowers that is the Imperial Capital.
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Character Insight:
The protagonist’s casual rapport with Vocal Slut-san serves as a stark contrast to the reverent fear shown toward the nobility and Psionic users. His internal monologue reveals a deep-seated cynicism toward the world’s ‘distorted’ mysticism, yet he remains fascinated by its wonders. Meanwhile, Vocal Slut-san’s innocent enthusiasm for both the mundane and the ‘alien’ future knowledge highlights her role as an emotional anchor for the Young Master.
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Behind the Scene:
The ‘Kawamo no Sakahoko’ is a clever play on the ‘Amenonuhoko’ from Japanese creation myths, repurposed as a tool for hydraulic engineering. The author uses the ‘Showa’ aesthetic to ground the fantasy elements in a recognizable, albeit skewed, historical context.
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T/L:
Notes:
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
• Fugen – One of the two world-class Psionic Power users with precognition (future sight). They hold immense authority, independent of political status, and are revered globally.
• Monju – One of the two world-class Psionic Power users with precognition (future sight). They hold immense authority, independent of political status, and are revered globally.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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