Starting the Shadowbroker Tutorial!

It’s been three years since the establishment of the Shadow Garden—give or take. Alpha and I turned thirteen years old, and my older sister Claire, fifteen.

There isn’t anything special about turning thirteen, but fifteen is another story. That’s when aristocrats begin their three-year education at a school in the royal capital. As the bearer of the hopes and dreams of the Kagenou household, Claire had a crazy farewell party thrown for her, which was organized by our mother. Like, wow, you can’t get more clichéd than that.

And that’s fine. Well, it was fine until she vanished the day of her departure. Read: All hell broke loose in the Kagenou household.

“The room was like this when I came in,” explains my dad in a low, suave voice. His face isn’t bad, either. “No signs of a struggle. But it looks like the window has been pried open. The culprit must have been skilled to do this without me and Claire noticing.”

He touches the windowsill and stares wistfully at the sky. A glass of whiskey would complete the scene.

Now, if only he had hair…

“And?” replies a chilly voice. “Are you saying we’re out of luck since the kidnapper was skilled?”

That was my mom.

“Th-that’s not what I’m saying. I was just stating a fact…,” answers my dad as cold sweat drips down his cheeks.

There’s a pause.

“Shut it, baldyyyyyy!!”

“Eep! I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!”

By the way, it’s like I’m invisible. They don’t expect much from me, and I don’t cause any trouble. I’m trying to keep this up to lie low in the background.

It’s really too bad that my sister disappeared, since she was cool and all. But they nabbed her in the middle of the night when I was out training in the abandoned town, which meant I couldn’t do anything to stop it. After watching with a concerned expression while my parents bicker, I sneak into my room and roll into bed.

“You can come out now.”

“Okay,” replies a voice accompanied by the sound of the curtains swishing gently.

A girl in a black slime bodysuit steps out from behind them.

“Oh, it’s you. Beta.”

“Yes,” says a girl, an elf like Alpha.

But while Alpha’s hair is blond, Beta’s is silver, framing her blue feline eyes and the mole right under one of them. She’s the third member of the Shadow Garden, after me and Alpha. I know I told Alpha to do things in moderation, but I swear, she keeps taking people in like they’re stray cats or something.

“Where’s Alpha?”

“She’s searching for signs of Miss Claire.”

“Dang, she’s fast. Is my sister alive?”

“Most likely.”

“Can we rescue her?”

“It’s possible…but it requires your assistance, Master Shadow.”

Oh, I have them call me Shadow. It’s fitting for the leader of the Shadow Garden, right?

“Did Alpha say that?”

“Yes. She said we must take every precaution in a hostage situation.”

“Huh.”

If I’m being honest, Alpha is plenty powerful on her own. If she’s asking for backup, we must be dealing with a big shot.

“It makes my blood boil…,” I say, compressing the magic in my hand down further. In a flash, I release it, causing the air to quiver around us.

There’s no particular reason for that. I just love to put on a good show.

Plus, it startles Beta, who even murmurs, “Incredible.” Nice.

As of late, I haven’t run out of training partners with Alpha, Beta, and Delta around, but I do like switching things up every once in a while. And I’m obsessed with playing the part of a mastermind, which makes this a perfect opportunity.

“It’s been a while since I’ve showed my true strength…,” I mumble.

At this point, I’m used to giving off a mysterious vibe. And with Alpha and Beta creating an optimal environment for pretend play, I’ve been very hyped up lately.

“As we’d expected, the perpetrator is a member of the Cult of Diablos—presumably one of their highest-ranking officers.”

“A high rank, huh…? But what do they want with my sister?”

“They must suspect that she’s one of the heroes’ descendants.”

“Well, those bastards guessed right…”

And that’s how she thickens the plot.

On top of that, she takes out a pile of documents and starts saying all kinds of cryptic things.

Like “Your story was true after all…”

And “The Children of Diablos from one thousand years ago have…”

And “This monument may be a sign of the Cult…,” but I don’t know for sure, ’cause I can’t read ancient texts. I have a feeling that Alpha can’t even understand them.

Y’know, I bet the two of them scrounged up some paperwork that looked appropriately suspicious to feel as if we’re getting closer to the truth. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“Take a look at this report. According to our most recent investigation, Miss Claire seems to have been brought to this hideout…”

Beta begins laying out a huge heap of files. It’s complete gibberish to me. The majority is written in an ancient alphabet, and the others are a series of nonsensical numbers and symbols. Dang, they really have a knack for creating fake reports. In this regard, they’re way better than me.

I ignore her explanation and chuck a small knife at the map on my wall. I aim for wherever feels right or something.

Zing. It sinks into the map.

“There.”

“There? What are you…?”

“That’s where my sister is.”

“But there’s nothing… Wait. No way…!” She balks, hastily rummaging through her reports as if she’s realized something.

Erm, ah, it’s really just a random throw. But Beta is a great actress.

Lemme take a guess. You’re gonna say the secret hideout is located right at the tip of the knife, right?

“After cross-referencing my reports, it appears the hideout is at that location.”

See? What did I say?

“To think you instantly interpreted these documents and uncovered hidden details… You never cease to amaze me.”

“Beta, you gotta train more.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Bravo! I know it’s all an act, but whew! It pulls on my heartstrings. Oh, Beta! You’ve got me on the edge of my seat.

“I’ll report to Alpha right away. Will we attempt our rescue tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Beta bows to me and leaves the room with eyes all sparkly. Like, I can almost feel that you totally respect me.

Cheers to her Academy Award–winning performance!

***

A man walks down a dimly lit underground tunnel. Appearing to be in his late thirties, he has a piercing gaze and a well-built body, and all his gray hair is slicked back.

He stops at the end of the tunnel, where there’s one door flanked by two soldiers.

“The daughter of Baron Kagenou,” he orders.

“In here, sir,” one soldier pipes up, bowing to Grease and unlocking the door. “We’ve got her restrained, but she’s extremely hostile. Please proceed with caution.”

“Hmph. Who do you think I am?”

“M-my apologies, sir!”

Grease pushes through the door and enters the stone dungeon, where a girl is shackled to the wall with magic chains.

“You must be Claire Kagenou.”

When she’s addressed by her name, the girl looks up at Grease in response.

She’s stunning, wrapped in the dainty negligee she wore to bed. It lightly veils her voluptuous breasts and shapely thighs, and her silken black hair is cut straight across her back.

Claire glares defiantly at him. “I’ve seen you around the capital. You’re Viscount Grease, aren’t you?”

“Oh, well, I used to be a royal guard…or you saw me at the Bushin Festival.”

“Right, the tournament. Princess Iris really tore you a new one.” Claire smirks.

“Hmph. We’re bound by tournament rules, which makes that an exception. I would never lose to her in a real battle.”

“You would lose then, too, Viscount Grease…you first-round flunker.”

“Shut it. A brat will never know the struggles of getting to the finals.” Grease scowls at Claire.

“I’ll make it in a year.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you don’t have a year left.”

The chains that bind her clang loudly as she closes the distance between them, snapping her teeth a hairbreadth away from the nape of Grease’s neck.

Chomp.