《INTEGRAL_》 CH 1: MOJO PIN CH 1: MOJO PIN It was an especially cool, windy autumn afternoon. The sky was blurred by a gray overcast that settled upon the unassuming suburban town. The local grade school had just gotten out for the day, and scattered across that old residential neighborhood was the chatter and commotion of children running around and playing. Left and right were pockets of those children picking on one another and being picked on, playing games, and talking about whatever stupid things kids from Tokyo talk about these days. Few parents were available throughout the week to attend to their kids after the bell rang, and they quickly got accustomed to running wild. What horror those parents may have felt if they saw that standing among these rowdy snot-nosed brats was a mysterious looking man; one with a briefcase in one hand and a magazine in the other. His appearance was that of a guy you wouldn¡¯t want hanging around innocent kids, and the fact that he was muttering to himself erratically did not help. What made it worse was that those imp-like munchkins knew it too. They started messing with him, hurling all sorts of derogatory names into the air to catch the ear of a suspecting adult in the area. This shady looking individual had dark hair, and was sporting a five o-clock shadow, tinted shades, and a wrinkly linen overcoat. The man didn¡¯t seem to care much that he was suspicious looking. Quite the opposite, he even began antagonizing some of them as well. ¡°Stop shouting, ya brats! I am not a deadbeat.., or a pedo! Any of you try that crap again and I¡¯m contacting your parents¡­especially you, Otto. I¡¯ve known your father since elementary school!¡± The man shouted back, pointing towards one of the more particularly difficult snot-nosed brats. ¡°But, Mr. Ito-san, it was my dad who said you were good-for-nothing¡­not me.¡± The stupid kid viciously smiled ear to ear, exposing a missing tooth. Ito had no answer, and tried to distance himself from the laughter that followed and rang through his ear. I really got to move from this neighborhood¡­, the man thought to himself solemnly. He tried not to go out much during the early afternoon because of this kind of harassment, whether by the kids or nosy neighbors. But he had no choice. He was called in for the job that evening. This routine project needed his particular set of skills, and the pay was his ticket out of this cocoon he had been in all his life. Placing the magazine in his large coat pocket for a brief second, he exchanged it for an old Walkman paired with some earphones. Checking his watch, he noticed the time; 4:05 PM. He had about 45 minutes left before he arrived at the spot; the least he could do was stay sane before having to do that. PLAY. The whirls of the windy day were replaced by static white noise, which after a few seconds was followed by a soft but stirring guitar. Entering as if an extension of that guitar¡¯s angelic timbre was a voice akin to Robert Plant but with even greater sensitivity, humming a transporting hymn. I''m lying in my bed The blanket is warm This body will never be safe from harm Still feel your hair, black ribbons of coal Touch my skin to keep me whole He wasn¡¯t the romantic type; well at least that''s what he thought the song was about. However, the song¡¯s vibe matched the contemplative mood that afternoon had hexed him with. While walking towards the bus stop, which had to be a little over half a mile from his parent¡¯s home, Ito lamented the sorry state his life was in. Living in your parent¡¯s basement at twenty-nine years of age may not have the same stigma it had a few decades ago, but those around him were confident that he had done nothing to pull himself out of the nest; and his appearance nowadays was good enough to confirm all the biased views they had about him for so many years. It didn¡¯t help what had just happened with his parents before he left home that day. They were right about him, of course. To Kazuo Ito, believing otherwise was no help in motivating him to get out of the hole he dug for himself. He just needed a break; an opportunity he could capitalize on. This job was that ticket out. *Ring* Kazuo felt his phone vibrate through his other pocket. Immersion Broken, he thought as he took out his earphones, forgetting to pause the player. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Here comes another one, Kazuo thought as he set down his briefcase and pulled out his phone; a model that looked like it was popular two decades ago. Noticing the caller ID, Ito composed himself once more, trying to regain the mysterious aura his attire implied. ¡°Afternoon, my fallen angel, how¡¯s the two week break from my heavenly presence been treating you?¡± He stated with a robust amount of sarcasm. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for you to enter first, Kazuo. Enjoy the view; a busted up apartment that even you can¡¯t rent,¡± the female voice said coldly from the other side of the line before promptly hanging up. She digs me, Kazuo Ito thought; a television clich¨¦ he used to humor himself. Looking up in the sky to take the gloomy afternoon all in, Kazuo saw a leaf tumbling down towards his face, which he blew away. Finally, he had run into a familiar friend. The final leaves on the ¡®sentinel¡¯ had fallen. That¡¯s what he used to call the large tree in the small park that sat by the bus stop and pedestrian crossing near his home. The almost thirty year old man had given it that title back when he was a kid; a name inspired by whatever sci-fi serial he was into then that time had forgotten. The tree had been there his whole life. All these years, it had kept watch over children crossing the street with its large branches and all encompassing shade. Kazuo Ito stood in that now absent shade, waiting for a bus into the city. A meek looking older man was waiting next to him, alongside what he assumed was his school age granddaughter. Surprisingly, the shady, ragged-looking man felt friendly enough to start a conversation with them both. ¡°Good afternoon sir. I¡¯m sorry, but do you remember when there used to be a swing on this tree? Now all that¡¯s left are some rusty nails, but back in the day, my friends and I would fight over who would get to swing on it when hung out here. Man¡­those were good times.¡± The man¡¯s genuine smile washed away much of the apprehension. The grandfather smiled back, and nodded. The little girl, no longer attaching herself to her grandfather¡¯s leg, took notice of the magazine Kazuo barely hidden within his coat pocket. ¡°Hey mister, you read V-Across too?! I thought old people only watched the news..¡± the little girl said, sparkling with excitement. Before Kazuo could even respond, the grandfather interjected. ¡°Don¡¯t bother the young man, Haruko. It''s probably for his own kids. Isn¡¯t that right¡­Ah! Now I remember you! You¡¯re Kazuo aren¡¯t you?¡± The old man¡¯s face lit up. ¡°I used to monitor the crosswalk when you were just a wee boy¡­so I guess you do still love manga, don¡¯t ya.¡± He said as he started to laugh. ¡°Heh, I am surprised you remember me!¡± the nervous man said as he revealed the eyes from behind his glasses. As for manga, well, I read from time to time,¡± Kazuo said as not to feel an inner embarrassment, ¡°but my coworkers are really into the big one, INTEGRAL, so I caught up and¡­I kind of got hooked in is all I can say.¡± ¡°I love INTEGRAL! It¡¯s my favorite!¡± The little girl exclaimed. Returning her smile, Kazuo extended his hand, offering her the magazine. ¡°I suppose you haven¡¯t read the latest chapter yet, have you? It¡¯s very exciting...if that''s ok sir?¡± The grandfather nodded once again, ¡°go ahead Haruko, we have some time until the bus comes.¡± After finding the beginning of the chapter, the young girl excitedly began reading, flipping page after page and digesting everything within seconds. ¡°So Kazuo-san, did you end up doing anything with those skills of yours? I remember you loved to draw¡± The grandfather questioned inquisitively while the girl was reading. ¡°Um, well, It¡¯s hard to explain sir¡­I kind of fell out of love with the process.¡± Kazuo said while scratching his chin, ¡°I guess it wasn¡¯t for me.¡± ¡°Oh. So what do you do now then?¡± The elderly man asked plainly. ¡°...Funny enough, I am in the¡­entertainment business; I manage an up and coming talented client right now¡± Kazuo said with a phony smile. ¡°Wow! Would I know them by chance; someone living in this area?¡± The old man said, intrigued. ¡°Nooo, not at all¡­¡± Kazuo started sweating in the cold heat as he caught a look back at the girl reading the magazine. ¡°They are reeaally underground¡­¡± ¡°Well¡­I...as long as you¡¯re having fun young lad-¡± suddenly, the young girl began to tug at her grandfather¡¯s jacket. Turning around to find the young lady holding back tears startled him. ¡°What is it, dear?¡± The grandfather cried. ¡°Th-that¡­can¡¯t be how it ends!¡± She said as she started to throw a tantrum. Meanwhile, Kazuo put his headphones back in, seemingly unaffected by the girl''s emotions. Along the side of the road came trotting along the bus. He checked the time; 4:32 PM The wind blew an invocation and i fell asleep at the gate And I never stepped on the cracks ''cause i thought i''d hurt my mother And I couldn''t awake from the nightmare that sucked me in and pulled me under Pulled me under Oh... that was so real Oh... that was so real Oh... that was so real The bus driver opened the gates of the bus, and as Kazuo walked up to the entrance of he bus, the man facing him spoke six words, ¡°Kazuo¡­¡± Mr. Ito did not hear the next five utterances; he only saw them mouthe- PAUSE. FWD/REWIND. I¡¯ll Make It Real¡­You¡¯ll See. A figure hidden in shadow stood at the center of what seemed like nowhere. In that vast opaque domain, there was a single screen, which broadcast an image of a perspective that seemed to be that of a bus driver''s seat. The subject was that man; Kazuo Ito. Or was it? Chapter 1 END CH 2: THE VERGAD SYSTEM (PT 1) CH 2: THE VERGAD SYSTEM (PT 1) *RING* The repeated buzzing of the apartment''s doorbell had finally startled and awoken the man, who was more than dazed after an hour of slumber. The buzzing would continue as Kazuo slowly and methodically folded himself out of the bed, a couch that had no right being that comfortable. It was clear though that he lived a quite sedentary life. As his eyes adjusted from waking up, he took a look at the room. It was one he spent very little time in. In reality, it was a room no one really lived in, and it showed. It was fit with a lawn chair, a tv with no stand, a PlayStation accompanied by zero games, and lastly, a really comfortable couch. One would assume from its utilitarian furnishings that it was some sort of bachelor¡¯s pad. That poorly kept, bottom-level one room apartment was made specifically to appear barren and pedestrian. No one would assume that anything interesting goes on in the life of its tenets; though no one ever entered or visited the uninhabited flat. And yet, at the end of that hallway, from the entrance of the apartment and through that bedroom door, there held a very important key to the completion of a certain operation. Those behind that operation simply found it necessary, or rather serviceable, for the low rent, low visibility location to act as a sort of ¡®lobby¡¯ for the agents assigned to the task. As for Kazuo Ito, it only served to remind him of his weary personal situation. For a quick second, Kazuo checked his watch to see how long he was out. It was 3:05 PM. Once he reached the door, he slowly looked through the peephole to make sure it was his partner in crime. And just on time¡­ Ah, yes, Ms. Smith, he smiled wryly. After unlocking the door, he drew a breath and prepared himself to respond to the stiff wind he was about to be hit with alongside the cold weather. He failed to get a word in before the woman behind the door responded. ¡°Let¡¯s get started right away Kazuo; I¡¯ve got other appointments to meet.¡± The woman said quickly as she barged through the door, walking towards the end of a hallway in the apartment. Her appearance matched her attitude quite aptly. Raven black hair, tired dark green eyes, and a black overcoat worn over a two piece suit. In her hand was a plastic bag which seemed to come from a local gas station mart. In all honesty, Kazuo had run out of quips, and the elephant in the room was rearing its ugly head. In hopes that the exchange might not be so unpleasant before he had to do¡­that, Kazuo tried to set the matter straight. ¡°Look, I get it Miharu. I don¡¯t like it either; being here¡­¡± Kazuo said as he spread his hands out theatrically to gesture towards the whole room, ¡°with you¡­doing this dance we do.¡± Once again, he gestured towards Miharu, then performing other expressive hand waving to make his point. ¡° I mean, I was really about to say to you ¡®It¡¯s nice seeing you too¡¯, and then smirtle into the fourth wall like this is some sort of odd couple sitcom.¡± ¡°...Smirtle, huh?¡± Miharu responded with her back to Kazuo as she walked towards the door, reaching the end of the hallway. Without any response, she opened the door. She was quite the professional kind of lady; one who despised her job for one reason or another, but would do anything, be anywhere, just for the sake of obeying orders. Miharu Takada had that aura about her that one could just pick out if they had been anywhere near this sector of work. There were not many, however, who would find themselves in this small circle. Not even Miharu truly knew why she, or that Kazuo for that matter, were chosen for this specific job. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. And yet, that woman was chosen for a purpose. Really, there were always two types of people that entered this sector of work; and they were always paired together for their unique set of circumstances. These circumstances made them invaluable to the success of the job at hand. There was not much difference between Type B and Type A, at least not to the type casters. After all, they both arrived here, and that meant much more to the story than where they began. When it comes to the differences, It¡¯s not always a matter of personality, but perhaps similar traits gave birth to a certain particular kind of obsession that this operation could take advantage of. It dumbfounded Kazuo, however, how he and Miharu were chosen together without the least amount of consideration towards compatibility. Sure, it¡¯s not like he would be communicating much after¡­that. Sooner or later, though, one of them was going to go off, start a fight, and then a certain collection of expensive systems found within that claustrophobic sanctum of an office room would be down for repair. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Just what could command so much secrecy within that office room, yet be considered with such reckless abandon as to put these individuals in its care; and what operation was soon to begin? Kazuo stood solemnly at the room''s entrance, and stared at that familiar view with dread. The office room was fitted with a plethora of compact machinery cascading all four walls with a hall of switches, computers, and one large monitor embedded within a section of the inner frame of all the connected wires and cords. A huge circular light sat alongside the top wall of the room with chords connecting from out of it into the modules surrounding it. The technology certainly was advanced, and yet parts of its design seemed to come from decades prior. Everything was coded with a manila sheen like that of an office printer from the dawn of the millennium. While Miharu was booting and configuring a machine near one wall of the room, Kazuo walked towards¡­that. There it was. The centerpiece of all this incomprehensible equipment was a metal chair which sat uncomfortably in the room. Fitted with its own contraptions around the arms and the headrest, it was a wonder whether someone was to sit there and interact with any of the techno-junk surrounding it, or to be tortured mercilessly by neuroelectric shock of some kind. Well, it was a sort of torture¡­ ¡°Hah..¡± Kazuo said with a fake smile that quickly dissipated. He began to walk toward the dentist chair/contraption, then turned his head to look at the bag Miharu had brought with her. Within it was a magazine, and just as it always was when they met for this job, it was V-Across. He would usually bring his own copy and read some along the bus ride to location, but for some reason he couldn¡¯t quite remember, he forgot to bring it with him today. It was a long nap. Kazuo thumbed through the magazine, and again tried to have some constructive conversation with Miharu. ¡°This week''s chapter was quite exciting, don¡¯t you think?¡± Kazuo said with a knowing smile, which Miharu could feel despite his position being completely opposite of her. He had been facing the far wall of the room, staring upward at what seemed to be a camera that was now in operation. She rolled her eyes and he began fidgeting with the different mechanisms within the room, seeming to calibrate and position them to some order. There was a name at the top of the Machine she was working on; engraved in the encasing manilla plastic was the word VERGAD. ¡°...Truly.¡± For once, Miharu spoke with a flat and direct tone. ¡°I feel like a schoolboy again, Miharu. This arc has been pressing on for almost a year, but with this issue, the climax has finally come!¡± ¡°Yea...To think Felt would uncover such a secret; The orphaned child, then bastard son of the Galactic Emperor..,¡± Miharu turned around with an angry expression before stating the reveal. ¡°..was really just one of the defective artificial beings created by the empire.¡± ¡°Usually at this point in the story, the MC would realize an even greater potential, going from underdog to legend!¡± Kazuo looked at a poster near the back of the room, it was the same character that was on the front of the magazine. The series was entitled INTEGRAL. ¡°Only the master Hasegawa could pull such a subversive move 447 chapters into a flagship series; Truly a deconstruction!¡± Miharu shook her head after computing some information. ¡°You¡¯re really on something, aren¡¯t you huh?¡± She angrily turned her face to reveal her piercing green eyes. ¡°You well know that wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. That''s why we¡¯re here. Now get in the chair before the guys upstairs call reinforcements.¡± Miharu said as she completed her end of the operation before initialization. Kazuo looked intensely still into the camera with a rye smile. ¡°I know, I know, but it would have been nice. Just a little change from the regular beat em'' up ending eh?¡± ¡°Be Serious!¡± Miharu shouted.
In this world, one that is very much like ours, comics are a serious matter. They can be a teacher of justice to the children of the future. What justice will this operation bring about? How will you fare in the big chair, Kazuo Ito?