I opened the door. The first thing I felt was air that was sticky, greasy, and savory all at once.
Citry's secret kitchen had now completely transformed into a fried tofu factory.
I never imagined it would come to this... I was the one who'd asked Citry to prepare the kitchen, but this was beyond anything I'd anticipated.
Wooden crates were stacked to the ceiling. The initial ingredients had been provided by Citry, but there were clearly far more than what she'd supplied.
I glanced over at Citry, and she shook her head.
If every one of those crates contained fried tofu ingredients, then Sora must have found a supplier in this impossibly short time.
"I see... I'm surrounded by nothing but exceptional people, huh?"
Had Sora already made up her mind to go all-in on this particular path?
Unfortunately, I couldn't stick around to accompany her. I wouldn't mind helping out now and then, but fried tofu wasn't exactly my favorite food.
The crackling sound of oil. In the kitchen, there was Sora wearing a mask and furiously shaking a frying pan — and me, sitting cross-legged in midair with an arrogant air, wearing a fox mask.
Citry's expression froze. She looked up at me cautiously.
She rubbed her eyes, then stared intently at the figure hovering in the air again.
It was me. It was undeniably me. Just wearing a mask wouldn't fool anyone who knew my eyes. More like me than even Klah Andrich was.
Sora's gaze shifted toward me, her eyes widening in shock.
"Me" noticed me too, pulled off the fox mask, and flashed an unnecessarily cool, nihilistic smirk.
In my signature, perfectly articulated voice, "I" spoke.
"Well, well... I won't even bother asking who you are, my counterfeit. You've had quite the fun ride up till now, haven't you?"
!?
Without thinking, I spread both hands and looked down.
"I was... the fake one the whole time?"
"This one's the real deal! Kyaaa!"
Citry shrieked and latched onto me.
The cool version of me stared wide-eyed at the scene for a moment, then eventually sulked and hugged his knees.
What on earth was going on... I had no idea.
Wait, but now that I thought about it — I was never that cool. There was something off about it. Same appearance, but the other one seemed incredibly powerful. Klah was strong too, but this one, being a near-perfect copy, created an even more uncanny feeling.
It all seemed like a hassle, so I gave up on pursuing the matter further and turned to Sora instead, getting straight to the point.
"Sora, I gave that mask to Mr. Gafu."
"?????????? ...Huh!? Huh? Wh- wha... huh!? Why!?"
Sora was in a state of extreme confusion. The way she kept glancing back and forth between me and the me hugging his knees made it clear she couldn't process the situation at all.
But don't worry — I was just as clueless.
"He looked like he really wanted it. I didn't need it anymore, so... yeah, that's how it went. I'll leave the rest to you."
"Huh!? Wait..."
The crime-hunt that the Torches were currently in the midst of conducting would... well, probably work itself out. The Torches weren't my subordinates — they were far more independent than I was.
I'd been the one to bring everyone together, but beyond that, I had no say in how things progressed. Maybe it was strange, but they might actually be pleased to have formed connections with this peculiar group of fox-mask enthusiasts who happened to be quite capable.
All I had to do was take in our little wild ones.
And then, the real me — who'd been hugging his knees — spoke.
"...I'm heading back too."
"...Wh- what!?"
I blinked, and in that instant, the real me had transformed into the Young Fox.
A small voice came from behind the mask. Combined with the knee-hugging posture, she sounded incredibly lethargic.
So fox-type magical beasts could shapeshift into humans. The Young Fox could do it too, apparently. But why had she been disguised as me?
Sora's cheek twitched, and she blurted out in a flustered voice.
"Huh!? Wait, hold on! Wh-why!?"
The Young Fox plucked a piece of fried tofu from the nearby frying pan, chewed it with a few deliberate bites, swallowed thoroughly, and then said: "...I got bored."
"!? !? !? You got... bored!? What do you mean, bored!? Wh-what am I supposed to do from here on out!?"
At her pleading voice, the Young Fox let out a deep, weary sigh.
"You can't read the room. My energy's tanked. Can't do this anymore. I'll go sightseeing and then head home. Thanks for the fried tofu."
She'd really dragged me through all that only to bail. What a sense of responsibility.
...But every so often, I almost forgot — that fox girl had been a Phantom to begin with.
"No way..."
The moment Sora murmured in a daze, the Young Fox had vanished.
I'd been watching her the entire time, yet she was simply gone. Truly an absurd and terrifying power.
But then again, most Phantoms dealt in absurdity.
Being tricked by a fox... that was genuinely pitiful. I'd have to file a complaint with the brother later.
But before that, Sora needed help. Unlike the Young Fox, I wasn't about to just throw things at people without a second thought.
Not sure whether I understood the situation or not, I patted the head of Citry — who was wearing a thin, enigmatic smile — a few times with my palm and said: "Citry, I'm leaving the rest to you."
"...I'm your wife, I'm your wife, I'm your wife."
...Don't get ahead of yourself.
§ § § Why does this always happen to me...
Sora, who had been destined to spend her life as a shrine maiden of the Fox God, was being thoroughly cornered by the boss of the organization itself.
One of the bosses — a young girl — had declared she was bored and left the scene, while the boss who was supposed to have been the fake one had gone and given the mask he'd been holding to a senior member named Gafu of all people.
From the moment the "fake" turned out to be an acquaintance of the real one, the whole situation had been an incomprehensible mess, but leaving aside the first part, the second development was catastrophic.
After all, it meant that a boss — a genuine mask-bearing boss — had been added to the ranks.
And Gafu had no idea that the person who'd given him the mask was the fake. It was Sora herself who had vouched that the mask-giver was the real deal.
It was already too late to take it back.
She hadn't done anything wrong. She'd merely followed the boss's orders. And yet here she was, trapped.
Where had she gone wrong? Because Thousand Transformations had a mask? Because Sora had declared someone the boss the moment she saw the mask? Because she'd dug in her heels when Gafu asked her? Or because she hadn't revealed the truth midway through?
The answer was... just one.
In the now-empty kitchen, Sora shouted as though trying to convince herself: "I haven't made any mistakes! I can say that with my chest held high! I was ordered by the boss, the great White Fox, to fry tofu — and so I fried tofu! If the boss said that Inari Sushi Bentos would take over the world, then as a priestess, it is my duty to comply! The boss's word is absolute! Questioning it is impermissible! I did everything I could!"
She could feel the headquarters — with whom she maintained regular contact — descending into confusion as well.
From the very start, the fried-tofu-frying operation had deviated sharply from the organization's previous movements.
Something was happening. She sensed a great, irresistible current of fate sweeping through everything.
Sora hadn't misread anything — she'd simply been swept up in the changes. That was all.
The die had already been cast. The shrine maiden of the Fox God was obligated to be a wise, infallible, mystical existence.
A shrine maiden who misjudged her boss was no longer of any use. And so Sora would absolutely never err, and absolutely never apologize.
The real boss and the fake boss both said to fry tofu. That order had not been rescinded.
She would simply keep frying tofu. They'd told her it would take over the world. No matter how absurd the order, or what hidden intentions might lurk behind it, she could only obey.
So Sora's role was simple. Take the world with fried tofu. Yes — as the secret society known as "Ten Tails' Fried Tofu."
After that, whatever happened was fine.
Sora understood that a shrine maiden of the Fox God was merely a priestess in service to a deity, not a leader involved in the organization's management.
Footsteps sounded from beyond the door. Confident footsteps, at that. Sora gave a quiet snort.
These footsteps had to belong to Gafu — poor Gafu, who'd inherited the real mask from the fake boss.
In a sense, he was an even greater victim than Sora.
But the moment Gafu obtained the real mask, he became a boss. He bore the responsibilities of one. That was how this organization worked. There was no room for debate.
The door opened. Gafu, now wearing the fox mask, stepped inside.
Sora took a deep breath, then knelt down to fulfill the true role of a shrine maiden for the first time in a while, and solemnly opened her lips: "Great White Fox. The production infrastructure for fried tofu as per your command is proceeding steadily. What shall we do next...?"
The Great White Fox was the object of the shrine maiden's faith. Raising one's face without permission was unthinkable.
The rush to produce fried tofu had originally been Gafu's doing, on orders from the previous White Fox.
With her head bowed, Sora waited. The one who had until recently been the Thief King remained silent for a moment before speaking in a heavy voice: "...Well done. You understand the plan going forward?"
"...Yes. I have engraved your command firmly in my heart. I shall produce Inari Sushi Bentos and conquer the world."
"What!? N-no... never mind. You understand the intent behind it?"
"...For a mere shrine maiden to comprehend the Great White Fox's thinking is simply beyond her capability."
"Impossible."
It seemed the new White Fox hadn't been briefed on anything either.
No... there was only one White Fox. There was no "old" or "new." He occasionally created copies of himself, and while there were rumors of those copies holding meetings with one another, there was only one.
Granted, when Gafu had been given the mask, he might not have needed to know the intent behind the orders. But things were different now.
As Sora smoothly pushed the responsibility onto him, Gafu was silent for a long while before finally saying: "...At any rate, once a plan has been set in motion, we can't exactly call it off?"
"...Everything is as the Great White Fox wills."
"I am the White Fox. All command authority rests with me."
"As you say. That mask is without doubt the proof of the Fox God's proxy, and as a shrine maiden, I shall follow your lead."
She made the declaration cautiously. But she could sense that Gafu was just as bewildered by it all.
In that moment, the hearts of Sora and the new boss were perfectly aligned.
"Recently, the Great White Fox issued an order. To create a new organization. The name of that organization, which shall advance onto the world stage, is — 'Ten Tails' Fried Tofu.'"
"!? Hmm..."
Even a man once called the Thief King, even a man who had led a massive bandit syndicate, was clearly unaccustomed to this sort of situation.
He groaned with a troubled expression for a while, but eventually steeled himself and spoke: "...The previous strategy was innovative. Internal dissent within the organization is to be expected — confusion is almost certain."
"...That is quite likely."
"The orders have already been given — they've been given. Headquarters is in turmoil. Depending on how things develop — civil war is a real possibility."
"..."
Civil war. As a shrine maiden, it would be blasphemous to nod in agreement, but it was the truth.
She didn't know how they'd managed to communicate it, but with two figures at the top, the possibility of them clashing was far from zero.
And the one who would bear the brunt of such a crisis was the White Fox standing before her, who had only just inherited the role. No one in their right mind would want to board a sinking ship.
And then the new White Fox spoke in a quiet yet forceful voice: "I will be the one to lead the way. Order every available member in the area to participate in the operation. Get them frying tofu! Push the work harder! Secure storefronts! Set up distribution networks!"
"...As you will."
His voice was desperate.
He wasn't going to let anyone slip away. He intended to pull everyone into his camp. Foxes did not forgive traitors, and they did not trust them. That was why Gafu planned to involve every single person.
The transition from the old White Fox hadn't been discovered by anyone yet. While the trust built under the previous White Fox still held.
And that, coincidentally, was exactly what Sora had been planning to do.
"Anyone who defies us, joins another side, or disobeys orders — purge them! All currently ongoing operations are to be halted immediately! Put them to work so they can't escape midway! Prepare for combat! Issue directives to headquarters under the White Fox's name, loudly and on a grand scale. This is an operation of the highest possible priority. I am — the one leading the way. No one shall be allowed to interfere! Don't retreat! Fight! Don't worry — we have the Fox God's blessing!"
Once an order was given, it couldn't simply be retracted. A leader bore the obligations of leadership.
There was no choice but to fight or die.
§ § § With the Martial Emperor Festival just three days away, the city was wrapped in even greater fervor.
Luke and the others seemed to be in excellent form as well (though, to be fair, it was rare for them not to be).
As I lazed around the inn, Lucia — who had been topping up the charge on my Treasure Weapons (which had been depleted from too much play) — suddenly said something odd.
"Come to think of it, Leader — are you ready for the Martial Emperor Festival? This time around, you seem to have awfully few Treasure Weapons."
"...Huh?"
Ready? ...Did she mean ready for cheering? Of course — I was fully prepared. When it came to cheering, I was a man without equal.
Seeing my grin, Lucia let out an exasperated sigh and thrust an elaborately decorated pamphlet at me.
"Brother, it's the first round. Do you even realize?"
"Hm?"
My eyes fell to the pamphlet. The page displayed the tournament bracket for the Martial Emperor Festival.
I blinked and read aloud the matchup written at the tip of those slender, fish-white fingers: "......Klah Andrich VS Klye Andrich?"
......How many people share my last name, exactly?