Chapter 31 - A Strange Sense of Discomfort

“Hnnnnngh!!!”

Daiki let out a bizarre yell as he pushed up the manhole cover.

With a skkkrrrkk, the cover slid aside, and Daiki’s face peeked out from the opening.

“Haah… I managed to make it through.”

“OK. Nice work, Daiki.”

This was the manhole at the school. After opening it by hand from above, Daiki had gone down to test if it could also be opened from the inside.

At this rate, they should be able to open the manhole at the shopping street as well.

Assuming the two were actually connected.

“But hey—are these things even big enough for a person to pass through?”

“Yeah, I heard the ones around here are part of a large water system. Should be big enough for someone like you to get through. And there are air valves too, so breathing probably won’t be an issue.”

“Huh… well, I’m heading in then.”

Daiki strapped on a modified helmet—a baseball helmet with a flashlight duct-taped to it—and disappeared once more into the manhole.

In his hand was a smartphone sealed in a plastic bag.

He was navigating by checking his position on the phone’s map. As long as the sewer continued uninterrupted, he should be able to reach his destination.

Not long after, a voice called up from the bottom of the manhole.

“Tooru! Tooru!”

“What is it, Daiki?”

Peering into the manhole, Toru saw Daiki waving back up at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Bingo! It’s pretty spacious down here!”

Good. Apparently, this wasn’t the narrow, inspection-type conduit with only a few dozen centimeters of space that he had feared.

“Ugh! The air down here is awful!”

Well, it was underground. That was to be expected. Still, Tooru felt the situation was lacking a certain sense of seriousness.

Takumi let out a big sigh, climbed down into the manhole, and smacked Daiki on the head.

“Yowch! That hurts! You’re gonna kill me, bro!”

From the satisfying smack and Daiki’s shriek that followed, it was clear the punishment had been delivered.

Alright, now it was time for them to make their own preparations as well...

He turned the key. Click-whirr-vroom! The engine fired up, letting out a high-pitched whine before settling into a deep rumble.

White smoke rose from the muffler, and the large vehicle shook with a heavy rumble.

“OK, looks like the engine still works.”

The microbus used for club expeditions should have an engine powerful enough to handle added armor.

However, unnecessary parts would need to be removed—otherwise, the extra weight might make it immobile.

“First, take out all the seats. …Actually, let’s leave a few. Also, Honma-senpai, Honda-senpai, and Rei—go get the armor plating. It should be in the supply shed. Sōda-senpai, please gather everything we need for welding. Since we still have electricity, now’s the perfect time to get that done—so please hurry. Ryū and I will start smashing the seats.”

Once everyone was off to do their assigned tasks, Ryū returned with an assortment of tools—hammers, saws, and even sulfuric acid from the science lab—and laid them out on the bus floor.

“So, what should we try first?”

“Um, let’s start with the hammer, I guess…”

He raised the hammer and slammed it down with all his strength.

But it barely left a scratch.

“Hmm… this is going to be more work than I thought.”

“Let’s start by sawing off all the covers and panels. We’ll smash the frame later.”

“Roger that!”

Ryuu began swinging the saw around like a madman.

It wasn’t hard to understand his excitement.

After all, they were finally doing something they’d never been allowed to do before—freely, and without anyone to scold them.

I don’t like this one bit.

That’s all Seiji could think about.

Lately, something had been bothering him.

It was about the time the gates were closed. Why had he agreed to do a job he hadn’t wanted to do, just because Tsubasa asked him?

For some reason, he had felt like he couldn’t refuse.

But how could that make sense?

He was clearly in the superior position—if he was the king, then Tsubasa was the beggar.

And yet… it was as if complying had been etched into his instincts.

“Seiji-kun, is something wrong?”

Tsubasa turned toward him and asked.

What was this feeling of discomfort?

It felt like he’d seen this scene somewhere before.

Maybe it was a kind of déjà vu.

But those submissive, almost fawning eyes—something deep within his memory stirred at the sight of them.

This is wrong. Something is wrong.

An undefinable anxiety surged through his body.

“Tsubasa… what are you hiding?”

“Me? I’m not hiding anything…”

Tsubasa tilted his head, thinking.

In the past, Seiji might have punched him without hesitation—but now, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Because every little movement, every gesture Tsubasa made, looked like a fake act—completely insincere.

He didn’t know why.

He just couldn’t shake the feeling that everything Tsubasa had said and done so far had been staged.

Suddenly, a chill swept through his chest, freezing Seiji’s spine.

If everything about Tsubasa had been an act… then why had he kept it up all this time?

Even after getting hit over and over again, why was he still by Seiji’s side?

What was this guy really after…?

“…Nah, forget it. It’s nothing.”

He said that, but his legs trembled slightly as he stepped forward.

Carefully, he walked ahead—making sure not to let it show.