Chapter 24

Hello? Hello?

The user you have dialed is turned off. Would you like to activate voicemail?

Activate.

Recording will start after a three-second countdown: three, two, one.

Just checking—if you need help, call me. I've already arrived at Exhibition Hall 7 in Round Valley. It won't interfere with the trip, but if I find out you got injured trying to be a hero to save face, you'll be ordering takeout and eating instant noodles for the rest of the year.

Recording finished.

…… He closed the terminal window, turned from the corner, and Aomo gazed at the exhibition hall filled with visitors, his face still bearing the solemnity from the call.

His usual keen perception didn't kick in, nor did any ominous premonition arise.

But he indeed had picked up some sense of discord from overlooking the city in the hover taxi, stemming from minor details.

This discomfort was like seeing Meipubofang being promoted to continue focusing on middle-distance fields with the escape horse running method, accumulating expectations for the next stage.

Although many thought it natural, given that this was her recognized strength, Aomo had already noticed from Meipubofang's earlier training steps and arm posture during interviews a few days prior that she had developed clear short-distance results, while the other middle-distance rival, Daijianshigeju, whose final kick burst already threatened her crown, insisting on continuing middle-distance races would make it hard to gain popularity.

Of course—at that time, Aomo himself wasn't fully confident in that speculation, because the conditions to elevate it from conjecture to fact weren't yet met, he lacked more information, and only after the short-distance cup results gave him confidence did he have that saying from the college entrance interview.

Aomo has always been cautious with his guesses, never rushing to treat them as facts.

Thus, although he was somewhat bothered by this sense of discrepancy, he didn't feel he should immediately treat it as fact and launch an investigation.

Because he's neither a detective nor a police chief, he's just a traveler.

Compared to the city's possible mysteries and unknowns, it's naturally more important to go ahead and enjoy the original purpose of the trip.

In this situation, the only thing he worried about was Morisen.

This wasn't Morisen's first time carrying out a confidential mission.

Previously, the foster father who completed commissions always did so in the Border Gate District.

He had sufficient trust in that district and that city.

He had lived there for over ten years, and Morisen had lived there for decades; both had a detailed understanding of the city, and although their perspectives differed, this was a source of reassurance.

But toward Heaven's Gate City, this overly vast unknown city... he evidently also harbored some apprehension toward the unknown.

This apprehension could easily turn into fear, even if right now it's just needless worry.

If so, then a choice must also be made.

Wanting to worry while enjoying travel is naturally unreliable.

Either give up the idea of traveling, or fully immerse yourself in the trip—you have to make some kind of choice.

Today is still the first day of the trip; there's still time later, looking at something possibly disappointing doesn't matter, as long as you can accept this bad start... frankly, I can't really accept it.

So he didn't shout at the driver to turn back midway; instead, he has now arrived at this destination venue with huge crowds.

Entering the venue, looking at the ticket gate, Aomo thought it over and still decided to make contact once; if there were developments, he'd look for alternatives before deciding... but the result was just as at the beginning.

Since they're all off, let's activate the B plan from the options.

Thinking that, he reached into his messenger bag and pulled out from a small inner pocket a commemorative coin issued by the Jiemen Central Horse Racing Association, a Horse Girl token.

Such Horse Girl commemorative coins, which are produced every edition, have considerable collectible value due to factors like era, 'first win,' 'creating an epic,' 'refreshing records,' and 'retirement race.'

To Aomo, the coin's value is indeed commemorative.

This is the first competition he attended in person, and thus he received the first commemorative coin, which bears the time and the winner; aside from the winner, it honors the athlete with the highest popularity and greatest commemorative significance.

On the obverse, naturally, is the victor, first place—that is the emperor; the Ludaofu Xiangzheng's portrait in full gallop, rendered in precise yang engraving, appears extraordinarily resolute.

Above it are the kanji for the Tenno Sho (Spring) and a small number 608.

And on the reverse, the one with the highest popularity and greatest commemorative significance is the protagonist of that retirement race:

Using yin engraving, it depicts the same galloping head pose, unlike the obverse's composed confidence; the figure on the coin's reverse appears as if moving forward while wounded, eyes half‑closed from the strong wind and fatigue, hair disheveled, yet her gaze reflects the light emanating from the finish line.

Likewise taken from a frozen frame on the Saichang, its recreation seems to record the essence of that race.

And Aomo, holding this commemorative coin, glanced at its design only briefly before finalizing his earlier plan.

Obverse and reverse of the coin, he focused on a leisurely journey, or possibly stepping into a mire, to investigate and fully witness the city's aspect.

Yes, the city's aspect.

Aomo could not conveniently go directly to investigate the mission his foster father had taken on, after all it was said to be a secret mission, and rash investigation would easily get him labeled a law‑breaking criminal.

He must plot slowly, for example, by letting an investigation of city problems drag him into the incident—then there's no way out!

But making a decision still depends on this... Aomo stared at the commemorative coin pressed against his thumb.

A simple thumb flip, backing it with the back of the hand, and moving it aside reveals the yang‑engraved Ludaofu Xiangzheng portrait on the coin.

……

He looked somewhat conflicted at the venue entrance he had come from, Aomo put the coin away, turned his back again, and slapped his face with both hands.

He smiled, relaxing.

For now, don't dwell on those baseless rumors; check the terminal's recording storage, take more photos, and later you can show them to Kailifu, Bi Ze, David and the others.

Just as he thought that, his gaze swept over the passing crowd ahead and then fell on the nearest silhouette.

That was indeed a very conspicuous figure.

Not only because of her tall, curvaceous figure, but also because her attire, reminiscent of an ancient court noblewoman, was completely at odds with the surrounding tourists.

Everyone else was dressed quite normally; even if someone in a leather suit came for a pilgrimage to a holy site, it would still fit the exhibition theme, but what's with that outfit that looks like a court dress from a thousand‑year‑old Victorian culture?

It doesn't take keen eyes to notice her; many people were already staring at the woman, and even passing children would tug at their elders beside them to comment on her, only to be scolded by the elders not to talk nonsense.

'Maybe she's cosplaying some weirdo,' 'There are also special human‑body settings,' such guesses would be made by tourists who have some knowledge of the tokusatsu series but not much.

Aomo is also a member of this group; unable to become a tokusatsu veteran, he cannot recognize every character, nor can he recount every interview, setting book, or even which page of a certain magazine details a given character's appearance, so he has had similar thoughts.

Such thoughts existed only in the first instant of glimpsing her.

In the second second, he paid more attention to her gaze.

Just as she turned casually, seemingly a social‑butterfly indifferent to surrounding looks, he obtained an angle from which he could gaze fully into her eyes.

That was an impatient gaze, that was a gaze waiting for something, that was also a gaze of disdain for everything around, looking down in response to everyone who noticed her.

How arrogant! She doesn't hide her arrogance at all, but what does she have to be arrogant about?

From her face? From her figure?

In the era when humanity entered space, the brand-new Terra Calendar had already been revised by over six hundred pages; appearance and figure are things that can be changed later, and that cost is not particularly high—one can even choose drugs, source energy, or direct surgery.

The saying that the streets are full of handsome men and beautiful women is no exaggeration; if one wishes, one can even install organs and external decorations that one does not naturally possess.

Beast ears, pointed horns, long tails—

——these can be virtual, using near‑substantial holographic projections to deceive others' vision and senses;

——but they can also be real; orders for neural‑linked bionic ears, tails and the like are plentiful each year, usable for entertainment as well as medicine.

So what could she be proud of?

She even glanced at the display case near the ticket gate with a hint of contempt; the Taro Ultraman suit and Gamera model seemed to approve of that.

Naturally, another obvious detail is that the fingers of her hands clasped before her chest are tapping her arms at a fairly rapid pace.

Don't look at that big challenge—Aomo is clearly the winner; compared to a patch of snow‑white, she pays more attention to the other person's scallion‑white fingers that look as if they never do labor.

She disdained this exhibition, possessing an inexplicable strong pride and confidence, but she had an appointment with someone, who had set the meeting place here.

""

As expected of Heaven Gate City, traveler culture hasn't shown up yet, but instead I first saw a strange person who might have a traveler's identity.

But since we've decided to enjoy the trip, let's not worry about it—even if she really is odd.

A mere two seconds of gaze, a fleeting thought—there was even enough time for Aomo to put on a polite look, and she also put away her commemorative coin.

She calmly merged into the crowd heading for the ticket gate.

It is now 10:20 a. m. in Heaven Gate City; after touring here, one can still nearby find food from otherworldly cultures.

If not found, settle for second best—alien culture will do as well.

Aomo will never leave herself with no choice.