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One was a high-level yokai already on the verge of breaking through to Great Yokai status.
The other? A legendary being whose name had echoed through myths for over a thousand years.
Both wielded "yokai energy"—a unique, self-sustaining power exclusive to their kind. So, naturally, neither Kazami Yuuka nor Inukimi had any trouble adapting to the side effects of unlocking the first stage of the Gene Lock.
After experiencing that burst of power for themselves, their reactions differed—but not by much.
Inukimi, trying her best to manage her facial expressions, still ended up with a goofy grin that Veyron could easily see right through.
As for Yuuka, her gaze settled on her hand, her usual cool demeanor cracking just enough to show a flicker of genuine surprise.
She'd already heard about the effects of Gene Lock Stage One and Stage Two the last time Veyron visited the sunflower field.
But hearing about it was one thing—feeling it firsthand was something else entirely.
The real thing hit harder. Much harder.
"So all I have to do is focus my mind, and just keep activating it over and over to improve?" As she asked, Yuuka casually toggled the Gene Lock on and off at a pace that made Veyron's eye twitch.
Of course, she wasn't just messing around. Every activation helped sharpen her battle instincts—and every time she used it, her body retained a bit more of that physical upgrade.
It had been years since Yuuka last felt her power grow so clearly, so tangibly. The sensation was addicting. She clenched her fist, savoring it.
"In principle, yeah," Veyron nodded. "Talent helps you unlock it faster, willpower lets you draw more strength from it, and experience… well, that tempers your spirit. It refines your soul."
He paused. "And you? You've got all three."
Yuuka fell silent for a moment, then gave a solemn nod. "If you ever need anything from me—just say the word."
"Well, I was planning to ask you for a favor this time," Veyron said, glancing east-southeast toward the sky. "But now… looks like that won't be necessary."
There—high above the clouds, almost invisible to the naked eye—a hairline crack split open in the sky. From the other side of the rift, a pair of curious violet-gold eyes peered down at the sunflower field below.
A gap.
A trademark of the Gap-Yokai, Yakumo Yukari— Manipulation Master of Boundaries.
The "boundary" she controlled wasn't just physical. It represented the conceptual line between all things: The surface of water and the lake it belongs to. The ridge of a mountain and the sky above it. The very things that separate the world into parts—without them, existence would be a single, indistinct whole.
And the "gaps" Yukari opened were physical expressions of those abstract boundaries. Through them, she could instantly travel anywhere she pleased.
Before Veyron crossed into this world, he'd done some digging.
From what he learned, Yukari's gaps didn't just let her traverse space. She could move through paintings, dreams, even stories.
In a straight-up fight, the gaps didn't offer any direct stat boosts—but in terms of utility? It all came down to how well Yukari herself used them.
If she didn't want to fight? She could just slip into a gap and vanish. Most enemies couldn't do a damn thing about it.
That's what made tracking her down so tricky. Before he could even think about "bothering" her, Veyron needed to find a way to make her show up.
He'd already swept Eientei and the surrounding areas with Observation Haki—no signs of her anywhere. That's when it hit him: the sunflower field.
Both times he'd come here—Yukari had shown an obvious interest in her old friend Kazami Yuuka.
It wasn't a coincidence. Not at all. She always seemed to be watching whenever Yuuka was involved.
So if he couldn't locate Yukari directly, asking Yuuka for help wasn't a bad backup plan. If anyone could find her, it'd be her.
But it turned out he didn't even need to go that far.
The moment that rift opened in the clouds, the situation changed completely.
"Looking for her?"
Yuuka noticed the rift the instant it appeared—of course she did. As someone who'd known Yukari for years, that gap in space didn't escape her for even a second.
Seeing that Veyron clearly had his sights set on that woman, Yuuka chuckled softly. "Didn't think this day would come so soon."
Not long ago, when Yukari had dropped Veyron into the sunflower field through one of her gaps, Yuuka had joked afterward that she'd be waiting for the day Yukari screwed up and got a taste of her own medicine.
And now? Not even half a year had passed, and the man Yukari once tossed aside like a nobody—just some "bonus baggage" behind a bigger threat—was standing here, flipping the situation on her.
How the tables turn.
"If you end up killing her, do me a favor—bring back her hat, her fan, maybe a piece of her dress. I'll build her a little memorial here in the field."
Yuuka waved lazily toward the rift in the clouds.
...
On the other side of the gap. Yukari could hear that.
"Seriously? After all the times I risked getting blasted just to drop by this field and catch up with you... and all I get is a memorial?" She let out a mental sigh.
"The world is going to hell, and yokai just aren't what they used to be…"
Yukari had no intention of clashing with Veyron right now. She quietly began to close the gap, retreating.
After all, once her plans kicked off, everything depended on how those two behind Veyron would respond. Would they help her? Help the other side? Or just sit it out? Their decision could decide everything.
But even aside from that, Yuuka's casual remark carried a weight that Yukari couldn't afford to ignore.
If Veyron were clearly weaker than her—or even just on par—Yuuka wouldn't have said something like "build her a memorial."
The fact that she did could only mean one thing: she believed Yukari might actually lose.
And if Yuuka had made that judgment, then out of respect for her instincts alone… Yukari knew she needed to back off for now.
That was the plan, anyway.
Just as she tried to fully shut the gap and slip away, Yukari suddenly realized something was wrong.
The rift wasn't closing.
"Huh?"
After all these years of opening and closing these gaps without a hitch, this was the first time one refused to obey.
"It's stuck, isn't it?"
Veyron's voice drifted through the rift, cool and steady.
He had forced his telekinesis into the gap to stop it from closing.
Under normal circumstances, that would've been laughable. With how stable space was, there was no way his 1.984 million tons of telekinetic force could hold a spatial rift open. Even if you multiplied that power by a hundred or a thousand, it shouldn't have mattered.
After all, not even a black hole tears space—it only bends it.
So what made the difference?
Simple: Yukari hadn't opened the gap using brute strength. She'd taken a shortcut using her ability to manipulate boundaries.
Well, that opened the door for someone like Veyron to interfere.
Yukari: "!!!"
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