Chapter 40 - Point Nemo (part 9)

Soon after the race, the grand clock on the ship makes a loud ringing, signalling the midday of the second day. The shops start their first wave of visitor reception after the vibrant night, although the traffic is not high yet.

Mirai and I are occupying a bench in the corner of the invention room. I am waiting for her to analyse the camera footage and compile the statistics regarding the recent occurrences. Without any specialised tools to do data analysis, and with a supercomputer next to me, maybe even better than a supercomputer, I cannot perform any calculations, and I would not even attempt to do so. The only thing that Mirai shows me is a percentage bar that slowly runs to a hundred per cent.

- How long until you finish the data analysis? - I start to feel impatient, as the bar starts to slow down.

- I have very little data, you know? And I need to perform extra calculations to maximise accuracy, at the cost of time. Just find something around here to play.

I leave the bench and walk around the cabinets that store the electric components. I grab some of them, put them in my backpack and reach a crafting bench. I plug in the electronic tools, lay out the mechanical tool kit and display all of my electronic components on the table.

As I connect the wires and do some programming, I once again have some time to think about my life.

Just how time flies...

The falling cherry blossom flowers made a grand entrance for another spring in the metropolitan city of Tokyo, Japan. A new school year had started.

At the school gate of the Tokyo Metropolitan High School of Science and Technology, a person who looked like he is just a junior high school student is arguing with the security guards, who did not seem to believe what he said.

- Sorry, kid. Are you sure that you have entered the correct place? This place is for senior high schoolers only.

- What do you mean, sir? I am a student here.

The unlucky person who was held back was Yuusha Takahashi, a student who fortunately received a letter of direct offer from the school even before the national examination was conducted. How ironic.

- If you are lost, I can help you find your junior high school. Lying is not good, you know?

Yuusha opens his backpack and takes out a file. He hands the file to the security guards. They open the file to see a letter of offer inside. The seal and the signature are genuine from the school's admission department, and one does not need a professional to verify.

- Well, the letter is real, but just in case, can we have your identification card?

- Here, sir.

Yuusha reaches out to his wallet and hands the security guards his student card.

- Yuusha Takahashi... Male... Wait? Fifteen years old? This height?

Yuusha expected it would happen. This topic had been brought up countless times during his junior high when he was also rejected entrance because the security guards thought he was just a primary schooler. He often got joked about his height during the early days in junior high. However, he was blessed with intelligence, and it was probably that God accidentally spilt his entire potion of brainpower into the liquid but forgot to add in the height potion when shaping him. After the first internal examination, he topped the whole cohort. People respected him, and with the help of his school, he gained a direct offer from Tokyo Metropolitan High School of Science and Technology, after passing a killer early admission examination. He could raise his head highly and proudly.

Yet, the only occurrence that Yuusha had raised his head so far was this only occurrence, when he was trying to look up to the tall security guards who were holding the file and his student card at a level higher than his head. The rigorous study curriculum Yuusha exerted on himself to get to this position resulted in his modest height of only a hundred and fifty-five centimetres.

- Sorry, we thought you are just kidding. Please come in. And, congratulations and welcome to the Tokyo Metropolitan High School of Science and Technology. Make the most out of it when you are here.

The security guards greeted Yuusha with a firm salute, as he entered the school. It just felt awkward for some reason to him if he also exchanged salutes. A verbal thanks would be sufficient.

And now, more than nine years later, how did the unknown prodigy of that time becomes not only unknown but also not a prodigy and is living day to day with freelance work? And then just to be dragged into this weird journey, where it is either me or humanity that will be at risk? What choices have I made to arrive at this point, or rather, what kind of supernatural powers out there are toying with my fate?

As I reminisce on my glorious past and question my present, I do not even realise that I have finished assembling something. That is what you get for muscle memory.

- An Ephemerellid, huh? - What is on my crafting bench now is a small drone which can intercept any telecommunication signals with their numbers.

Since that time, despite its low durability and its surprising simplicity in design, they have been successful in blocking our connection to the arsenal, which is a pain in the ass.

- Yuusha, I have finished analysing the data. Come take a look.

I hide the Ephemerellid in my backpack and come to Mirai. She is projecting her vision onto a wall again, but this time, there are different annotations.

- With more concrete data, I manage to zoom in on the precise location of their underwater base. Here.

I can hear the sound of Mirai's artificial optical system clicking and zooming, and the map zooms to a specific coordinate, which has been pre-marked with a yellow cross.

- I have also deployed satellites to assess the terrain of the seabed in the region to complement the camera footage and the telescope disruption data. And this is what we get.

The image continues to zoom, but into the water. As the light slowly faints deeper into the water, the image is also gradually replaced with X-ray scanning. At the depth of about a few thousand metres, the X-ray image forms a shape. The shape of a town.

- This is the anomaly that we see before. A full-fledged and operating city, protected with a resistant glass barrier.

- Any other notable statistics?

- Yes. The city spans approximately five hundred kilometre square, so it is technically a city, or a town, whatever. However, it is still the base of the Intruders, I can guarantee that. I still do not know what is the function of this underwater town, but in any case, we have exactly three to four days, before this ship leaves the South Pacific Ocean and returns to Japan. Also, according to my speculations based on the image, as always, the central point of assault is at the centre of the town.

- So we need to do another raid...

- Likely. But, if possible, I would like to find a more feasible way that put us in less danger.

That is said easier than done. After countless times we face perils, there is no point in a safe but successful approach.

But you know what, I still want to see the sun shining above me when I wake up. I use the little hope I have left to agree with Mirai.

- Now, I think I will send more satellite signals to further investigate the area, as well as send autonomous submarines to scout the area. Once I have sufficient understanding, we will commence the only attack and destroy the town forever.

- Wait... Does it mean...

- Yes. You can just go around and do something else. But return to the hotel room in the evening. I will make a briefing.

Well, these are the only times that Mirai is outstandingly useful. I decide that once in a blue moon, I can back down for a while. I return to the working bench and stare at the Ephemerellid that I just made.

DING! DING!

My handphone in my pocket vibrates as I am concentrating on the drone, which makes me startled. I check my phone.

There is an encrypted e-mail, specifically sent to me. After I verify my personal particulars, the e-mail opens. The content is merely a single sentence or two.

"Emergency. Please make sure that nobody is around, and make a call."

I check the sender.

- Issac?