The ARCA... The Other One
The Anomaly Regulation and Containment Agency also known as ARCA.
The last descendent of a long series of many organizations throughout the world whose objective was to restrain and contain being known as anomalies.
Amongst ARCA's many offices, one stood as one of the most prestigious and active: the Astral Residue Containment Agency or like everyone really called it, the Asuka.
That was where one of the strongest busters ever known by the world worked.
"Agent ARN. We have to talk."
This was also where the scariest manager in the world worked, at least according to ARN. The young woman looked left and right hoping the grumpy looking four-eyed old woman wasn't calling for her. A vain effort truly.
"I don't believe we have any other agent that goes by that name in our department. Oh? Or could it be that agent ARN was lost in action? A shame. I suppose we cut her credit and block her access to the Wi—"
"Agent ARN there," said the girl raising her hand.
The old one readjusted her glasses, "Oh, here she is. Can she go to my office?"
"Well, she is a bit—"
"No, no, sorry. That wasn't really a question."
ARN squinted, "I understand."
She knew it. If she was called into that office like this, then…
"Didn't we discuss that many times?! You were supposed to subdue Santa Claus, not vanquish him!"
"Oh…"
It was about that of course.
"Don't 'oh' me!" yelled the old woman, hitting the table. "I even reminded you! I reminded you many times! Why in the world would you do that?!"
Those moments always felt like a journey through a desert for ARN but with an A/C and hard chair instead of a camel. It was as if each of the "hag's" words was draining a day out of her life to the point that the rumor about her being actually a youth sucking lich seemed almost credible.
But this time, ARN came prepared. She had arguments.
"He said 'source', that was impardonnable," she replied, her eyes absolutely serious.
"... And since when does that constitute an act worthy of execution?"
Easy to answer.
"Haters must die."
"That isn't—" the woman pinched her nose's bridge for a moment before continuing. "Very well, what about the troll in Noronto two weeks after. No, I won't take trolls—"
"Trolls must die," the girl spat.
"... must die as an answer, but I guess you can't answer otherwise can you?"
The old woman sighed deeply while leaning into her seat.
"Listen, agent ARN, you are one of our most talented employees, yet you have one of the worst records of all agents here. Do you know why?"
"Because I don't negotiate with terrorists?"
"Ghosts are no terrorists but you seem to, at least, be aware of part of the problem. Do you remember the other part? The part about what happens to people affected by the ghosts you vanquish."
"Explosive orgasms," she replied.
"Three billion people, agent ARN!!! Three billion people couldn't walk on Christmas day because of you!!!"
"... Truly a white Christmas last year, wasn't it?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"I am sorry."
"Do you even realize what you have done? Some people could have died because of your carelessness! And this isn't the first time something like this happened either!"
The old woman leaned forward, her elbows on the table.
"Our department's purpose is not simply to vanquish spirits, agent ARN. Don't forget we have two other options available."
"... I know," replied the girl.
"Yet you only ever go for the V-protocol."
"Well, I reckon those other options only exist because we weren't powerful enough to deal with every ghost in existence," replied ARN, closing her eyes. "However, with me, that concern is irrelevant. Look, I was even able to vanquish Santa Claus. Next, it will be the Sandman, Hanako-san, the Flying Dutchman… With me, the day when all spirits are exterminated draws near."
"Hmph. Confident aren't we?!"
The old woman couldn't help but laugh. She then took a document lying on her desk and threw it towards the girl.
"Since you seem so sure, why don't you begin by solving this case?"
"... Can we go back to when you were scolding me, please?" replied ARN.
"I thought you were unusually talkative today," said the woman with a satisfied smile. "What? Did you expect me to get angry at you and suspend you because you refused to comply with the agency's rules?"
"Was worth a try."
"*Sigh* Agent ARN, could you stop boycotting missions because you want to be suspended? If we could suspend you, we would have done so when you made that doctor and her whole hospital reach the seventh heaven."
"Pleasure is the best medicine."
"Two people's hearts stopped."
"Almost gone from this world happily. If only medicine wasn't so advanced nowadays."
"There were also children."
"They all watch the thing nowadays. That was just another glimpse."
"..."
"..."
"... I am not suspending you."
"Can't say I didn't try."
"This is seriously becoming a problem. I am seriously afraid you might kill someone someday just to not work."
"Would that make you suspend me?"
"... You will be happy. This mission will actually be a sort of vacation for you."
ARN raised her eyebrows, "Truly?"
"Well, it is a mission with no special requirements except being a rank S buster. Unlimited funding, unlimited time to accomplish it and unlimited Wi-Fi."
ARN raised from her seat and delicately put her hands on the table. Yet for some reason, the furniture fissured and broke under the sheer pressure of the young woman's eyes.
"Where do I sign?"
"The target's threat level is estimated to be 18."
"... That number doesn't—"
"Yes, that threat number doesn't exist. Normally at least."
"You mean… no that…"
The threat level number was actually constituted of 2 digits each referring to different states. The first digit showed the actual observed level of danger the ghost represented, in this case, 1 meant it was an effective danger for only a single person and even then, wasn't necessarily dangerous. Normal humans were classified with 1 as a first digit too.
The second digit however estimated the maximum level of threat the ghost represented. Santa was marked 7 because he could potentially destroy the whole world if left unchecked. That was the common point with ghosts of the Trumpet class like him.
However, this woman was talking about something one rank higher. That couldn't possibly exist.
"...You shouldn't joke like that, Miss Greta. I almost had a heart attack," replied ARN.
"Oh, could you be afraid, agent ARN? I wasn't expecting that from the one other departments had to assign a threat level to just in case you betrayed us."
"I am only human though. While it makes me happy, a threat of 23 is a bit too much for a normal person like me," she said, slumping into her chair.
"Hm, normal… Anyway, you were right. I lied about the target's true threat level."
"Thought so…" said ARN, nodding. "So what is its true threat level?"
"19."
"... You are pulling my leg."
"Actually, no. Read the report."
ARN quickly took the papers on the table reading them with blinding speed. After a few minutes, she carefully put them back and stood up.
"Hm? A problem, agent ARN?"
She didn't reply and calmly walked towards the door. However when she tried to open it, it remained hopelessly shut.
Greta sighed, shaking her head, "Agent ARN, I already told you my office cannot be exited by certain individuals unless I allow it. That is only one of the clauses of the agreement that allows our department to work with people like you."
ARN turned around, eyes empty, "I resign."
"You can't."
"Fire me, please."
"I can't."
"Kill me."
"It isn't so dramatic! You just have to watch that thing!"
"Did you read that report? Do they really expect me to watch that Ajax thing?"
"If you don't, humanity, no, our galaxy might disappear."
ARN breathed deeply.
"Why me?" she then asked.
"You said yourself. You are one of few agents that can vanquish Trumpet class spirits. Isn't this reason enough?"
"Headaches. Headaches I have," she replied, hitting her forehead.
"... Think about the unlimited Wi-Fi."
ARN walked to the desk, took a pen and signed her name.
"You can count on me."
"... Of course," said Greta, taking back the papers. "But agent ARN, that was the report. Here's the documents you must sign."
She produced another batch of documents ARN didn't seem to read. She only signed them with blinding speed.
"Over. When do I start?"
"Soon," replied Greta, with a troubled smile.
What was Wi-Fi to this girl actually? Oh well…
"First you will have to reach a contact of mine there," she added.
"A contact? Who?"
"Well, a… member of my family," she said, carefully. "Her name is…"