Spy Spying Spy

"Sir, an intelligence report just came in from MI6," the subordinate began, his voice crisp and professional. "It appears our agents have uncovered Chinese spies actively monitoring what seem to be American operatives... in Russia."

The Head of Intelligence, a man whose weary eyes held the weight of countless global machinations, leaned back in his chair. "In Russia? What precisely are they spying on? If it's merely the ongoing conflict, then that's hardly new, is it? Just more of the same tired geopolitical maneuvering."

"No, sir. This is different," the subordinate clarified, adjusting the folder in his hand. "MI6 believes it's focused on a remote, rather obscure town in the depths of Russia. The probable US spies are reportedly watching and documenting something very specific in the outskirts of this town, away from any conventional military or strategic targets."

A flicker of interest finally crossed the Head's face. "Hm, a remote town... That's intriguing." He steepled his fingers, tapping them thoughtfully. "Have MI6 continue their efforts there. It's highly probable, given recent global events, that we're looking at something supernatural around that area. Keep a close eye on both the Chinese and American activities."

"Understood, sir."

The Head then shifted topics, his expression darkening slightly. "What about our... secret project? Any breakthroughs?"

The subordinate's posture stiffened. "Our lead scientists have reported significant setbacks, sir. All remaining test subjects have, regrettably, gone completely insane and berserk. There is no usable test subjects left from the current batch."

A low growl rumbled in the Head's chest. "Another failure... Has MI5, then, discovered anything concrete about the terrorist attacks that hit our base? Or, for that matter, the true origin of the Red Rain wizard, their supposed base in the sewers, and this... Durandal?" His frustration was palpable.

"Nothing substantial beyond surface information," the subordinate reported, his voice tinged with regret. "The wizard's base in the sewers was completely cleaned out before our teams could properly secure it. As for Durandal, our reliable assets from the US inform us that Durandal and its wielder may currently be residing in Japan."

The Head's fist clenched lightly on the desk. "Japan. That complicates matters immensely, doesn't it?"

"They possess their own formidable supernatural forces, which we've certainly noted, and they also have the backing of the United States. Even if we're allies, we simply cannot operate there forcefully, not without triggering a major international incident."

 ____________________________________

The bustling streets of Tokyo hummed with life, a vibrant tapestry of neon signs and hurried footsteps. Kaito held Tamamo firmly in his arm, her small form nestled against his side. She was bundled in a large, fashionable coat, and a knitted cap, shaped uncannily like animal ears, was pulled low over her forehead. Kaito gripped her tightly, not out of affection, but from a persistent fear that she might bolt the moment he looks away, exposing her true nature to the unsuspecting public. The other reason, a more mundane one, was that she simply didn't want to walk anymore.

"Hey Human! Buy that thing for me!" Tamamo exclaimed, her voice muffled slightly by her coat, as she pointed an insistent finger at a gleaming game console displayed in a store window.

Kaito sighed. "Can't you at least call me by my name when we're outside, Tamamo? Calling me and everyone else 'human' all the time is just... strange, you know?"

Tamamo tilted her head, the animal ears of her cap twitching. "A human is a human, what more is there to it? Just as you call a dog a dog, it's only natural to be preferred by your species, no?"

"Yeah, no, that doesn't make any sense," Kaito countered, already feeling the futility of the argument. "What if I called you 'Fox' instead of Tamamo, would that not irk you?"

Tamamo's eyes, even partially hidden, seemed to narrow with ancient amusement. "A superior being such as myself doesn't concern itself with the growling of an inferior being. So, no, it wouldn't irk me. I will merely slaughter them when I regain my full power."

Kaito sighed deeply, a profound sigh of surrender. He knew this battle was unwinnable. He steered Tamamo towards the store's entrance, intending to buy the desired console.

Inside, the store was an overwhelming shrine to a single phenomenon: New World Online. Every advertisement, every display, every flashing screen was dedicated to the game. The console Tamamo desired was incredibly cheap in comparison, its price slashed countless times, clearly a loss leader designed to draw customers in.

Walls were plastered with vibrant posters for VR devices and their premium add-ons, banners advertised in-game currency loan services, and even bizarre "rented friend" services to play with. New World Online had utterly taken over the world, becoming an inescapable cultural force. Both Kaito and Tamamo, despite their initial immersion, were now finding themselves bored and tired of the game after playing it so much.

He approached the checkout counter. "That will be seventy-two thousand, two hundred fifty-six yens," the cheerful cashier chirped. "Would you like to pay with cash, card, or New World Online's Coin?"

"Card, please," Kaito replied, pulling out a sleek black card.

In both physical and digital currencies, his wealth was virtually limitless. The black card Yumi had given him seemed to have no spending ceiling, and his in-game wealth, though constantly used in-game, was still nowhere near depleted.

Kaito exited the store, Tamamo still clutched in his arm, and looked up at the surrounding buildings. Every billboard seemed adorned with New World Online advertisements, a testament to its global dominance.

"Tamamo, anyplace you want to eat?" he asked, trying to find a new distraction.

Tamamo's eyes lit up. "Let's go to WcDonald's! I have yet to taste every item on its menu."

Moments later, Kaito was seated in a WcDonald's table. Tamamo perched comfortably beside him, her cap still firmly in place. In front of them, the plastic tray was laden with an assortment of fast food: towering burgers, crispy fries, oddly shaped chicken nuggets, and large carbonated drinks. Just as Kaito was about to bite down into a gloriously greasy Bacon, Egg, and Cheese hamburger, he heard a voice. A small, innocent, yet instantly familiar voice that sent a jolt through him.

"Onii-chan?"