Chapter 200 – Succession Ceremony (2)

[Ah, and don’t worry—when I said she disappeared, I didn’t mean she was kidnapped or anything like that.]

The AI that introduced itself as Ryozo’s companion, Vixbig, continued sending messages.

[As you may know, entry and exit from the academy is controlled by the system at night. Although, for someone like me, Vixbig, disabling that kind of security is as easy as scratching my belly.]

“……”

Vixbig, who had promised to get straight to the point, went on bragging endlessly. She talked about how extraordinary she was as an AI and about Ryozo’s greatness as her creator. She sounded more like a religious fanatic than anything else.

Trying to prove she was truly an AI, Vixbig sent over a bunch of feats—photos and videos of her playing baduk against professionals. More than proof, it felt like more showing off.

An egotistical AI—what a thing…

I hadn’t seen a single normal person in this world. And if I was even thinking of an AI as a “person,” maybe I wasn’t all that sane either.

Still, I decided to believe she was an AI thanks to her ridiculous behavior. Honestly, once she mentioned “Ryozo,” I was already paying attention. The problem was she just wouldn’t shut up about herself.

“Didn’t you say this was urgent?”

[Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked.]

Vixbig replied immediately.

[Oh, and you can speak aloud. I’m analyzing your facial expressions in real time via the camera.]

“…Wait a second…”

Did she just say she hacked my phone? I frowned. As if she realized the issue, Vixbig hurried to justify herself.

[W-we’re in a crisis! I had no other choice! I, Vixbig, have a very strict ethical system. I was designed to be extremely human-friendly.]

I cut her off flatly.

“Enough excuses. What does Ryozo disappearing have to do with contacting me? It doesn’t sound dangerous. Don’t tell me you reached out just because your master stepped out for a stroll.”

The reason I tolerated her nonsense was simple—I had questions.

Let’s say Ryozo really did disappear. Then why was this AI wasting time talking to me? She claimed she could hack the academy’s entire security system without issue. If things were serious, she could have tracked Ryozo down herself. She could even tap into all the cameras.

And lastly, my gut. I had just met her father, Saki Kojima.

And now, right after that, Ryozo disappears and the AI contacts me like it’s been waiting for this moment. It all lined up a little too perfectly.

“Tell me straight. You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

[…]

In a case like this, silence usually meant “yes.” And if this AI wanted to act like a human…

[…It’s true that Ryozo has disappeared.]

Uh-huh. So she was planning to keep it quiet to the end?

Shing.

In the dead of night, the sound of a blade echoed. The AI’s voice jumped out of the speaker in a panic.

“W-wait! Please wait!”

Apparently, whether human or AI, the best persuasion tool is still a sharp blade…

Though I found it amusing that an AI would fear a knife. Ryozo must’ve built a pretty impressive system.

With a trembling voice, Vixbig started explaining.

“As I said, it’s true that Ryozo has disappeared. But this is the first time she’s left without her phone or any personal belongings.”

“All right, I believe you. But why come to me? If you can check all the academy’s entry records and hack the cameras, couldn’t you find her yourself?”

“Well, that’s…”

“Three, two…”

“Ugh.”

A groan came from the speaker. After a brief internal struggle, Vixbig finally confessed… via message, as usual.

[Ryozo briefly stopped by the dorm and mumbled something, ‘…Kang Geom-Ma, he’s going to become one of the Seven Stars…’]

“…I never told her. How did she find out?”

[She said she heard it from Speedweapon.]

Now that I thought about it, Speedweapon had asked if it would be better to tell the club. He said if we kept it a secret until the actual day, people might get upset. I agreed without resistance. Honestly, I just kept it quiet to avoid complications.

And to think that someone as talkative as Speedweapon had held his tongue for nearly half a year—that was admirable.

I had planned to tell them today when we all met up. But the director’s call interrupted that.

[Ryozo was really shaken when she found out.]

“Shaken? That much?”

Well, yeah, I could see that. A classmate suddenly turning out to be a candidate for the Seven Stars—it’s like someone in your class becoming the president. No one would process that normally.

But what Vixbig was implying seemed to go deeper.

[Ryozo always wanted you to be recognized. She said that despite everything you did for others, no one gave you the credit you deserved. That’s why she stayed up night after night deleting articles and videos trying to tarnish your name.]

Now that I thought about it, articles with “K” in my name had been vanishing lately. So that was Ryozo’s doing.

Well, according to Vixbig, it was thanks to her. She emphasized it several times. An AI with a massive ego.

If this is what future private AIs look like, we’re screwed.

[Ahem, ahem. Anyway. I actually already knew you were going to become a Seven Stars Hero. Because while Ryozo was asking for my help, I took the opportunity to extract information about you.]

“Wait, wait. You already knew? Then why didn’t you say anything? Aren’t you under her command?”

[I prefer to think of it as a ‘partnership,’ if you don’t mind.]

“What if I ask Ryozo that? You think she’d say the same?”

[…My ‘master’ Ryozo hates the Seven Stars Heroes. Actually, ‘despises’ might be more accurate.]

“Why?”

[I suggest asking her directly when you find her. Since I stayed quiet even knowing you were the successor, I hoped you’d overlook this detail.]

Was she trying to negotiate? Either way, Vixbig made it clear she kept quiet “for my own good,” and now wanted me to just let it go.

I sighed. Pressing her further wouldn’t help. After all, if she’d rushed to contact me, she had to have a good reason.

I put away the blade I’d unsheathed. From the phone came an audible sigh of relief. An AI afraid of knives.

“So, Ryozo’s location. You’re her AI—you should have at least some idea of where she is.”

[I don’t know her exact location, but I do know she’s out of the academy’s camera range. I’ve already hacked them all—she’s not on any of them.]

“So she’s somewhere in the academy without cameras.”

[Exactly. That’s why I took the liberty of contacting you, Kang Geom-Ma.]

Just then, a specific place came to mind. A spot with no cameras, isolated. If I had to bet where Ryozo was, that would be the only place.

I headed straight for the door. Then, from my pocket, came Vixbig’s excited voice.

“You already know where she is?!”

I stopped in front of the door. I’d just remembered something I’d nearly overlooked.

I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen. Then I spoke in a low tone.

“We still haven’t talked about you hacking my phone, have we? Were you planning to just brush that off?”

[…]

“Don’t text me now. We’re talking with words—keep it that way.”

“S-sorry for the unauthorized access…”

“Apologies aren’t enough. You should compensate me somehow.”

“Compensate? What do you mean?”

I smiled faintly. Meanwhile, Vixbig’s voice trembled nervously.

“Vixbig, starting now, you’re taking on a second job.”

“Huh?!”

“You’ll follow Ryozo’s orders… and mine.”

“B-but… I’m already buried in tasks right now…”

“An AI… complaining?”

I didn’t even need to see her. I could perfectly picture the pale face she’d be making.

“……”

I took her silence as agreement. I turned the knob and headed for where I knew Ryozo would be.

***

In a quiet, secluded corner of the academy, shrouded in the night, Ryozo sat on a bench, staring intently at the sky.

It was completely black, not a single star in sight—like a mirror of her mood.

The sky she had seen before entering the academy had been just as dark. Ryozo muttered absentmindedly.

“A Hero of the Seven Stars…”

There are many ways to describe the Seven Stars the hero among heroes, the hope of humanity, the alliance of seven nations. All those titles were flowery praises meant to glorify them.

But to Ryozo, “Seven Stars” was a repulsive word. When the Swordmaster arrived as an assistant instructor to the Wolf class, she could barely stand to look at him, even if she never showed it.

‘Ryozo, you must become one of the Seven Stars.’

That was what Saki Kojima constantly repeated to her. Not as a suggestion, but as an obsession. A pressure that never stopped.

Ryozo had many half-siblings. In Japan, where polygamy is legal, Kojima had taken several wives. Though the law allowed it, the structure of such a family stirred plenty of controversy.

Kojima didn’t care. He wasn’t someone concerned with society’s judgment, and as the leader of Japan’s government, no one in the country could stop him. So he kept marrying, obsessed with producing an exceptional heir.

Ryozo was born the third daughter of the fourth wife. She and her mother were at the bottom of the Kojima family hierarchy. Even though they shared the “Saki” surname, they were treated as outsiders. Still, Ryozo’s childhood memories were happy ones.

She never got attention from her father, but she never felt the lack. Her mother gave her enough love to make up for it, and she managed to avoid the hostile glares of her siblings—at least until she began to stand out.

Time passed. It was on her twelfth birthday that Kojima summoned her to the archery field. It was the first time she saw her father’s face up close in twelve years.

He handed her an S-grade bow—the Red Bow—and pointed his chin toward the target. He didn’t even bother speaking.

Ryozo, irritated, thought, ‘I’ll make you open your eyes wide.’

She drew the bowstring and took aim. Then, she infused the hidden blessing she had secretly awakened into the hand holding the string, and released.

Thud.

She never imagined that single arrow would change the course of her entire life.

Ryozo bit her lower lip hard. From that day on, her life had veered off completely. It was the result of Kojima’s obsessive fixation on turning his daughter into one of the Seven Stars.

‘And now, that place… that boy…’

Just then, footsteps approached from the distance. Alert, Ryozo turned her eyes toward the sound.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“……”

Kang Geom-Ma pretended to rub his shoulders from the chill. Ryozo stared at him for a moment, then quickly looked away.

He approached, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb. Ryozo was sitting squarely in the center of the bench. Even as he came closer, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to make room—but she also didn’t seem to want to drive him away.

Standing there felt like being a student scolded in the principal’s office, but Kang Geom-Ma chose to speak anyway.

“Hey, Ryozo…”

The moment he opened his mouth, the bush behind them rustled faintly.

Tap, tap.

Another presence was approaching. One that carried the same unpleasant energy he had sensed just a few hours ago.