The meeting room Ryūji had been seated in was largely a boring one, but far more high-tech than the average office. The table, for example, was fitted with a large slab of glass displaying a hub of windows. News, weather, the usual. The high-tech furniture was contrasted by more analog choices—a comfortable couch is something that would never require the cold touch of a computer. Of course, such high-tech tastes were to be expected from the NAB.
Ryūji had been sitting for perhaps a half hour. The business card he had been nervously fiddling with in his pocket had started to show its wear.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said a man’s voice. “It’s rare that I get visitors.”
A man a bit taller than Ryūji had entered the room. He was young, but his professional look made him seem older—his black suit in particular was quite slick. A tie hung loosely around his neck, and he wore a tired smile. These sorts of smaller details betrayed his more overt looks, like his closely styled hair and shined shoes, showing a glimpse of his exhausted spirit.
Ryūji stood up, arms to his side, and presented his business card. It was creased.
“Nice to meet you! I am Ryūji Sogabe! Thank you for meeting with me!”
The man took the card and sat down in front of him.
“A network trouble consultant? That’s kind of an odd title.”
“Well, I work a kind of an odd job, you see.” Ryūji let out an awkward chuckle. At least, he meant to. What came out was more of a snort.
The man gave a smile.
“So, how can I help you Mr. Sogabe?”
“Well, Mr. Misaki, I’ll make it quick—I know you but you don’t know me. It’d take a dreadfully long time to explain, but you and I have both been dogs of the same owner: CC Corp.”
Ryūji’s directness took him off guard. Of course, Ryūji knew how this looked—he was a stranger that appeared out of thin air into this man’s life. This Ryo Misaki, this Haseo, had no idea who he was.
“I see.” Ryo tensed up.
“You and I have two mutual acquaintances, actually! Ms. Saeki, your coworker? I’ve known her for quite some time now.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes! I originally meant to invite her to this meeting, but her secretary tells me she is on private business in Germany.”
Hearing a familiar name made Ryūji seem more familiar to Ryo.
“Hah, then I’m sure this is kind of an awkward meeting for you, yeah? Nonetheless, I’m happy to accommodate you.”
There was a silence.
“And our other friend?”
“Oh? Oh! Right. Masato Indō.”
Ryo’s eyes opened wide upon hearing the name. It had been his raison d’être for almost a decade of his life now. Of course, Sogabe knew this. There would be no other way to get Ryo to listen to the request of this stranger.
“Ovan? Do you know something?”
“I have a hunch. But I need your cooperation in this matter. I need to know about the events of December 31st, 2018.”
“Just a moment, Mr. Sogabe. Who exactly are you?”
“I’m a network trouble consultant. You and I operate the same, just under different titles,”
Ryūji answered firmly. He didn’t want to involve Ryo more than he already had to—the boy had been through enough.
Ryo was quiet for a moment, and then spoke.
“I guess you are Ms. Saeki’s friend, but… Mr. Sogabe, how do I know I can trust—”
Ryo looked at Ryūji, who now had his hands on his knees and with a bowed head.
Ryo sighed. “Well, you don’t seem like a bad guy. What do you need to know?”
“It’s about the entity you fought on the day you recovered Indō’s consciousness—Vegalta.”
“You sure know a lot, don’t you, Mr. Sogabe?”
“Knowing about things I shouldn’t is my job.”
Ryo laughed.
“I guess you’re right. The same goes for me.”
Ryo looked deep into his tea.
“From what Reiko told me, Vegalta was some sort of existence that was born out of the network troubles towards the end of R:2’s lifespan. Its specifics were pretty unknown, and because I data drained it so soon after observation on it began, I don’t think we have any technical files on it or anything like that.”
Once again, Ryūji slumped in his seat.
“Of course…”
“However.”
“However?”
“I think there’s a back-up of the beast itself somewhere.”
For the first time in a while, Ryūji had felt some relief.
“Back-up?”
“Well, Ms. Saeki was observing the entire time I dealt with that thing. She’s a pretty uptight woman, you know? She seems like the type to keep records of everything she does.”
Ryūji thought about Reiko for a moment, that is, the two versions of her—the one that cleaned up the legal mess after Immortal Dusk, and the copy he had met in the Akashic Record itself. Reiko was focused to a fault—she didn’t know how to relax. Or perhaps a relaxed Reiko was a sight reserved only for her cats.
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