The chase gradually shifted eastward from the riverside area within the city, crossing the natural barrier of Zishan Mountain to the east of the city and speeding towards the Sudong Plain.
Even the telescopes and radar at the observatory on Purple Mountain failed to detect the anomaly. The strange phenomenon in the sky, however, attracted the attention of many observatory staff. But no one could offer a reasonable explanation. As for the public—the television station simply broadcast it as a short, ten-second news segment, resembling a social news tale. The pretty announcer treated it as nothing more than a lighthearted topic of conversation for the citizens.
No one knew that a disaster had almost brought death to this city. You see, the shipwreck in the Eastern Pacific was caused by a duel between two S-class powerhouses, but in K City, four S-class powerhouses were gathered!
Okay, let's put aside our poor, lovable protagonist for now, shift our focus away from his kidnapping by Prince, and not worry about what consequences Chen Xiao will face in this ordeal...
Almost on the same day that the four S-class powerhouses gathered in K City, a nearly silent war was also unfolding in an island nation in the Far East Pacific. However, while this conflict lacked the impressive scale of the four S-class powerhouses and didn't involve any earth-shattering battle, the ripples it caused beneath the surface were no less significant!
Kyoto.
About four kilometers from Kyoto, the streets in this area are under strict control. People dressed in traditional imperial guards have blocked the roads, and the gold chrysanthemum emblems on the streets remind everyone that this is a property owned by the imperial family.
Rows of cherry blossom trees cluster together, forming a pink sea. And deep within this crimson sea, at the end of a winding path, lies a royal estate registered under the name of the Imperial Household Agency.
This is a manor built during the Taisho era, its architectural style a mix of British and American influences—in short, a hybrid of styles. It looks more like a colonial building. The domed roof with chimneys leading to fireplaces, and the Japanese-style window sills and inner corridors under the eaves, make it seem even more bizarre. The British-style red brick style is clearly a product of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance era a hundred years ago.
A gentle and respectful court maid, barefoot and wearing snow-white socks, carefully carried a tea tray across the corridor outside the room with the hurried, small steps characteristic of Japanese women. The hem of her kimono carried the scent of fine incense.
Inside, what should have been an openwork hall was decorated like a Japanese Buddhist shrine. Inside this Western-style building, there were futons and tatami mats.
That Sato Chiyoko... well, she should be called Princess Chiyoko of Akiyoshi-no-miya, since Sato is just a pseudonym for her.
The young princess sat quietly on a mat, maintaining the standard posture of a court lady, her hands carefully resting on her knees, her head bowed. Her long, black hair cascaded down her sides, slightly obscuring her face, making it impossible to discern whether her expression was one of joy or anger.
However, the cup of tea in front of him had gone cold, but he hadn't touched it.
Kneeling behind her was a female official with an expressionless face, replacing Takeuchi Yako in her place. She also appeared much older than Takeuchi Yako. The only thing they had in common was that this female official also had a stern and lifeless face, and she also wore a sword at her waist—not a real sword, but a bamboo sword.
According to certain special etiquette and security regulations, since the supreme figure of the Yamato people is visiting this imperial estate, it is not permitted to bring any real weapons, lest they offend the sacred imperial procession.
"I think we have made our meaning very clear."
A clear, melodious voice, even carrying a hint of delicate beauty. But unfortunately, the voice was cold, even carrying a subtle arrogance.
The person speaking was in the hall, standing in front of the fireplace—heaven knows why this barrier was still there when the place was already decorated like this.
A mocking smile played on her lips on a beautiful, delicate face, her slender hand resting on the edge of the fireplace. Phoenix's gaze swept intentionally or unintentionally over Chiyoko, who sat there, a hint of pity in her eyes, but this pity quickly vanished.
Phoenix was wearing a well-tailored hunting outfit. Although it was only September, the climate here had already turned to autumn, and the tight-fitting hunting outfit perfectly accentuated her beautiful figure.
In addition to her already stunning beauty, Chiyoko, who was also a woman, couldn't help but be moved by the beautiful girl in front of her.
Phoenix stood there, her face filled with pride, deliberately raising her chin slightly and looking down at Chiyoko with a condescending gaze.
However, she wasn't saying those words to Chiyoko.
Deep within this lobby, behind a hanging curtain, the figure sitting behind the curtain is the one she wants to convey her meaning to.
Behind the scenes, a small table held a burning stick of the finest sandalwood incense, its pale blue smoke enveloping the figure seated behind it. From this angle, the person appeared like a deity being worshipped behind an altar…
Thinking of this, Phoenix smiled inwardly. For this nation, hadn't they always liked to regard this supreme being as a descendant of a god on earth? Hmph…
Behind the curtain, the enshrined "god" remained silent—as was customary. Beside the "god," however, stood a middle-aged man with a furrowed brow, his short, stocky frame wrapped in a dark kimono, and a strange crown on his head.
This is Yoshio Hojo, the Minister of the Imperial Household Agency. Of course, being the head of the Imperial Household Agency, he is more commonly referred to as Yoshio Miyauchi. He is forty-six years old. He has become the closest retainer to His Majesty the Supreme Being of the Yamato people, and his position is almost equivalent to that of His Majesty's spokesperson—in Japan, everyone knows that His Majesty rarely speaks in public, uttering that revered "crane's cry."
More often than not, Yoshio Miyauchi also took on another almost ridiculous role: translator!
Historically, this supreme ruler of Japan has never spoken Japanese. In their self-designation, it is a most sacred, noble, and profoundly difficult language: the language of gods. The pronunciation of this language is believed to be a divine language exclusively used by this supreme ruler, signifying that he is a descendant of the gods, not a mortal.
Of course, this ridiculous notion also had one advantage: after the devastating defeat in that war more than half a century ago, using this divine language to communicate the wrong reasons absolved the then-Supreme Emperor of Japan of the guilt of being a war criminal. The blame was attributed to those war criminal ministers who misinterpreted His Majesty's "Crane Voice" translation.
Whether this statement is a genuine insistence or a laughable and feeble cover-up, the Ministers of the Imperial Household Agency throughout history have awkwardly served as the interpreters for His Majesty: responsible for translating the profound and incomprehensible divine language spoken by His Majesty into ordinary Japanese and conveying it to ministers and the people.
In many ways, Lord Yoshio Miyauchi is the person in all of Japan closest to His Majesty—after all, every time His Majesty speaks, it is through him that the message is relayed. This level of intimacy even surpasses that of other members of the Imperial Family.
As the only person in all of Japan who could convey the voice of this supreme being, Yoshio Miyauchi always had a feeling of absurdity, but this absurdity was mostly hidden beneath his dignified exterior.
"I think I have made my meaning very clear."
Phoenix seemed completely unconcerned about the status and identity of the supreme being sitting behind the curtain; her expression was more one of indifference, even with a hint of impatience.
Miyamoto Yoshio's mind raced, a sense of humiliation washing over him. He was enraged by the flippant tone of the woman standing by the fireplace at the foot of the steps.
However, he had to consider it carefully.
Those guys have become increasingly audacious and arrogant! A few days ago, they openly attacked the residence of Princess Chiyoko—openly attacking the residence of a member of the Imperial Family within Kyoto's borders. They even burned down the Akikichi Palace and nearly kidnapped the Princess. Clearly, those rebellious individuals have completely disregarded the status of the Imperial Family, daring to offend its dignity with such methods!
They've already dared to launch such a brazen attack on a prince, so what's next? Who can guarantee they won't have the guts to directly... attack him?
For such a group that transcends the laws of the world, the only way to restrain them is to use their own kind!
“Respected Mr. Copper.” Yoshio Miyauchi coughed softly and spoke slowly, a hint of helplessness in his voice. Before him stood a bright and cheerful young woman, yet she possessed such a strange name as “Mr. Copper.” Perhaps these oddballs couldn’t be judged by normal standards. Thinking this, he carefully composed himself, for he had heard that many of these individuals possessed the ability to read minds. He steadied himself and spoke in a calm and reserved tone: “We previously made promises and reached agreements. The Imperial Household has no interest in integrating such a force, but we are willing to accept the hand extended by our friend—you, and the group and organization behind you. Considering our friendship, and considering your previous efforts in quelling these rebellious elements, His Majesty himself expresses great admiration and gratitude.”
At this point, Yoshio Miyauchi cautiously glanced at the supreme ruler sitting beside him. The supreme ruler's expression was calm, or rather, blank, and he did not feel the slightest displeasure because this subject had rashly used his name.
Relieved, Yoshio Miyauchi continued, "The dignity of the Imperial Family cannot be appeased by these rebels. What they seek is complete subversion and destruction, and..."
"We have neither the time nor the obligation," Phoenix said calmly. "Our organization will not focus its efforts on Japan, or even more on Asia. The International Superpower Alliance has already begun to take notice. We do need to integrate the superpower organizations in Japan, but we will not delay this goal for too long. Moreover, I myself am already very impatient with your prolonged inaction."
At this point, she glanced at Princess Chiyoko, who sat upright. Yoshio Miyauchi also sighed, a sense of helplessness in his heart. To unite those lawless superhumans, the only suitable candidate was Princess Chiyoko; this young woman was the only legitimate successor to the leadership recognized by those abnormal lunatics.
Sending a member of the royal family to lead those lunatics is not unprecedented, but it has always come at a price. Miss Chiyoko's father died because of this.
On a personal level, Yoshio Miyauchi fully understood Chiyo's insistence—no one would want to lead their mother's subordinates after their mother killed their father.
Originally, the royal family could have ignored those unruly individuals with extraordinary abilities and let them fend for themselves, but now it seems that this approach was also a mistake.