Time is a cruel weapon, but to one who possesses the supreme mathematical vision, it is merely a quantifiable variable.
Four months had passed since the night Kyouya Manabi's mansion burned down. In a minimalist office located on the top floor of the downtown district, the blue light from over a dozen large computer monitors reflected onto Itsuki Shiraishi's cold face. Ever since completing the Usurpation of the ability The Probabilist, he was in no rush to resort to brute force. To a deeply rooted family like the Mikage, the most devastating destruction wasn't physical death, but the deprivation of their supreme faith: Power and Wealth.
On Itsuki's retinas, algorithms continuously updated. He saw through every financial flow, every loophole in the International Seaport project managed by Atsushi.
[Liquidity trap success rate: 98.4%]
[Cross-default chain activation rate: 100%]
Itsuki was not in a hurry. He used The Probabilist's vision to foresee market fluctuations, backing Mikage's subsidiaries into bankruptcy. Through an anonymous investment fund bearing his late mother's maiden name—the Shiraishi Fund—he silently bought up all the enemy's bad debts week by week, month by month, without leaving a single trace. He was like a patient chess player, positioning every pawn, suffocating Mikage Corp little by little.
And then, the final domino fell.
After five months, Mikage Corp was utterly exhausted. Forged financial reports were exposed, plunging the conglomerate into the most severe crisis in its history. Atsushi was immediately dismissed by the board of directors for investment violations, becoming a sinner in the eyes of the public. Madam Reika—the woman who once walked arrogantly through high-society banquets—was now shunned by the elite, facing a series of court summons.
At the central hospital, Takeru Mikage fell gravely ill. He lay on his hospital bed with shallow breaths, standing on the brink of losing the life's work he had built from nothing. The burst of the stock bubble was also the exact moment he realized he had nothing left.
The hospital room door pushed open. Itsuki stepped in, his black trench coat carrying the bone-chilling cold of the night. He stood by the bed, looking at his desperately dying father with emotionless blue eyes. Without a single word of insult, without any anger, Itsuki simply reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, yellowed piece of paper—the severance agreement from years ago—and threw it straight into the old man's face, officially declaring the absolute downfall of the Mikage lineage.
Seeing Takeru's shrinking, terror-filled eyes, Itsuki gave a slight smirk and turned to walk away. He had completed the first step of his vengeance.
While a public financial empire was collapsing out there, in a hidden corner of the city, at a newly secured safehouse belonging to Yume Mizuki, the atmosphere maintained absolute silence.
Five months after the grueling, life-or-death battle with Nostra, this was just enough time for the group to rest and recover their physical condition. Ginji Arashi's health had fully recovered thanks to the ability The Luck, which helped him bypass the critical stage in a completely illogical manner. He resumed his habits of reckless gambling and eating, tossing coins while munching on bread, but his eyes now carried a newfound caution.
Yume used her title as an investigator to secretly monitor the fluctuations of the underworld. She realized Nostra had been suspiciously silent since their previous defeat. At the same time, the dossier she had dropped while escaping remained completely unaccounted for.
Kairi Ren was currently focusing on developing the Links Star project, becoming a prominent figure in financial newspapers. He utilized this time to stabilize his life, hiding under the guise of a wildly successful inventor and mentally preparing for the upcoming upheavals.
As the group was beginning to discuss their next plans, the television in the corner of the room started reporting on the scandal and the collapse of Mikage Corp.
Yume froze before the screen. She closed her eyes, concentrating her mind to activate The Echo to look back at previous loops. As her consciousness pierced through the old timelines, her brows furrowed tightly. She opened her eyes, her expression turning incredibly grave.
"Something is wrong," Yume said in a low voice to Kairi and Ginji. "I just checked the previous loops. This company has never collapsed at this point in time. This event has completely deviated from its natural trajectory."
Kairi looked up: "You mean... there's a possibility of the Time Breakers interfering in this?"
Yume nodded, her eyes filled with contemplation: "Exactly. Someone possessing an incredibly terrifying manipulation ability is taking down the Mikage from the shadows."
Late at night. At his new mansion, Itsuki sat in silence before a large oak desk. The desk lamp shone directly on two items placed before him: an old dossier stained with dried traces of Yume's blood, and an antique leather notebook.
Having dealt with the Mikage, Itsuki began investigating the origins of the recovered dossier. He used his probability-elimination ability and discovered its owner was Yume Mizuki—an investigator.
Itsuki flipped through each page of the dossier, beginning his analysis of Yume. The records noted her schedule always placed her at the scenes of bizarre accidents right before they occurred. Itsuki cross-referenced this with the notes in his antique leather notebook regarding a group called The Hunters (The Anomaly Trackers). His eyes flashed with a blue light: "Always foreseeing the shift of causality... She possesses The Echo—The Causality Tracking Tool."
He turned to the analysis section of Ginji Arashi. A man on Yume's watchlist with a history of illogical gambling wins and countless bizarre escapes from death. The antique leather notebook clearly documented the group The Architects who possessed The Luck (The Fortunate Gambler). Itsuki easily pinpointed this man based on his impossible probability trajectory.
But upon turning to Kairi Ren's section, Itsuki was completely blocked.
In Yume's dossier, the current Kairi was a shining tech star, the successful founder of Links Star. Itsuki opened his own leather notebook to cross-reference, but this notebook only recorded certain functions of a few specific Classes known to its previous owner. The remaining Classes—especially The Terminators group—were highly vague, containing only fragmented speculations.
Itsuki used The Probabilist's vision to calculate whether Kairi was a Time Breaker or not, but the system continuously returned scrambled results or undetermined probabilities. Kairi did not reveal any anomalous scenarios in his current life; his success was entirely based on public technological prowess. He couldn't deduce what Class the boy belonged to, even suspecting whether Kairi was merely a mortal genius protected by Yume.
Itsuki stood by the window, looking out at the luxurious yet cold city lights. On Itsuki's computer screen, the image of Kairi Ren on the cover of a major tech magazine was still glowing brightly.
Itsuki lightly tapped his fingers on the desk. For someone who always worshipped the absoluteness of probability like him, a "clean" and incalculable anomaly like Kairi Ren was exactly what troubled him the most. A black spot outside the equation is always the greatest threat to a Probabilist.
Click. The underground vault door swung open. His subordinate walked in, escorting two battered individuals. "Mr. Shiraishi, we just caught a few rats trying to spy for information around here."
Itsuki approached, his eyes ice-cold. He began interrogating them on who they worked for, but they kept their mouths shut, refusing to speak. Itsuki lacked patience; he immediately activated his vision, peeling back the trajectory of their behavior and the devices on them to uncover the mastermind.
[Probability of the mastermind being Nostra: 100%]
"Nostra..." Itsuki whispered. He immediately ordered his subordinate to eliminate the trackers around the perimeter without leaving a trace.
Standing alone in the middle of the room, Itsuki realized he was in the crosshairs of a major power, and other Time Breakers seemed to have started allying into small splinter groups to hunt. Therefore, he had to find allies for himself as soon as possible. He turned back to the desk, looked into his notebook, and after reading some information on a few Classes capable of manipulating crowds, Itsuki involuntarily broke into a cruel smile.
In the dark hall of an isolated commune, the space was filled with the eerie scent of agarwood. A crowd of disciples in bizarre, hooded garments was prostrating and muttering prayers.
Suddenly, a figure stepped up to the highest altar. The entire crowd instantly held their breath, all attention pouring onto him. The figure spread his arms wide, and with a voice full of hypnotic charm, he began to chant:
"Oh, children of the eternal night!"
"Look up at that sky!"
"The false gods have turned their backs, and Judgment Day is prolonged by the cowardice of this world!" "We have waited too long in the chains of this deceitful light."
"But believe me, when the darkest night passes, a primordial dawn will descend—the primeval light of the world's creation, where the old order is incinerated and our kingdom is reborn!"
"Do you want to witness that glorious era?!"
"YES!!! WE DO!!!"
The fanatic, synchronized screams echoed out, shaking the ancient stone walls.
"If you do, right at this sacred altar, kneel alive and swear your loyalty to the Supreme Being! Let your souls belong to Him forever, let your will become one with the Sun of Annihilation!"
"And out there, the mundane mortals are still blaspheming the divine. They do not deserve to see that dawn!"
"For our absolute faith, kill and drink the blood of the heretics! Use their lives as a stepping stone, use their blood as an offering to cleanse this world!"
The crowd below seemed completely hypnotized. They frantically kowtowed, howling their vows of loyalty in pure adoration.
High above, hidden deep within the shadows of the throne, a figure sat in silence. He slowly opened his eyes, coldly and ruthlessly looking down at the sea of people prostrating at his feet.
The real hunt has now officially begun.