The unsettling hum of the Vigilante's website still echoed in Shoji's mind, a phantom chill clinging to the edges of his consciousness. Days had passed since Taiga stumbled upon the social media post, days since Shoji heard Igor's cryptic warning in the Velvet Room, days since he'd felt that subtle, draining emptiness. Now, huddled in the cramped space of Shoji's room, the trio faced a reality far more disturbing than any monstrous Shadow.
"So, they're not just some cult hiding in the shadows of the Desert of Regrets," Minami stated, her voice quiet but firm, a stark contrast to the usual melodic lilt. Her fingers absently traced the enigmatic symbol on the torn armband, its cold fabric a constant reminder. "They're… here. In Minazuki. Doing… that."
Taiga, usually bouncing with restless energy, was uncharacteristically subdued. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his brow furrowed. "But how? And why? That website, man… it felt like someone was trying to scoop out my brain with an ice cream spoon. Who'd fall for that?"
Shoji knew the answer, or at least a part of it. He'd felt the subtle pull. Igor warned me about a 'false salvation,' he thought, the words echoing in his mind. This must be it. He cleared his throat. "Someone desperate," he murmured, earning a glance from both his friends. "Someone who just wants the pain to stop, no matter the cost." He remembered the testimonies on the site, the raw, aching desire for an end to suffering. The Vigilante wasn't offering strength to endure, but an escape from feeling.
"So, what's the move, boss?" Taiga looked at Shoji, a rare seriousness in his eyes. "We can't just charge into the Desert of Regrets blindly anymore. We don't even know what to look for when they're not around."
Minami nodded. "We need information. If they're operating here, in the real world, there have to be traces. People. Places." A crease formed between her brows, a sign of her deep concern. "We have to be careful. What they offer… it's insidious. It's hard to fight something that people want."
Shoji felt the weight of her words. He couldn't share Igor's specific warning, but he knew they needed to be vigilant.
"They're a different kind of enemy," he agreed. "Subtle. We need to understand how they work, how they draw people in. No direct confrontation yet. We just gather intel."
The next few days were a blur of discreet inquiries, blending into their normal school routines. It was a careful dance between looking for answers and not drawing unwanted attention. Each of them approached the task in their own way.
Taiga, ever the social butterfly, became their primary scout. During breaks and after-school clubs, he'd casually weave questions into conversations with friends and acquaintances. "Hey, you ever heard of a new group helping people with stress? My aunt's looking for something like that." He'd talk about mental well-being trends, local self-help groups, anything to seem innocuous. He managed to get a few vague leads – a friend of a friend who'd mentioned a "really calming session," or a flyer they'd seen for a "mindfulness workshop" that offered too-good-to-be-true promises. He even tried searching deeper online, beyond the obvious Vigilante site, looking for discussions in obscure forums or local community boards.
Minami, with her quiet perceptiveness, became their chief observer. She spent lunch breaks in bustling school corridors, and after school, she'd linger in busy public parks or shopping districts, her keen eyes scanning faces in the crowd. She wasn't looking for grand gestures, but subtle shifts: a new, unsettling placidness where there should be youthful anxiety; eyes that were too calm, too empty for the vibrant emotions of their peers. She'd quietly listen to snippets of conversations, filtering out the mundane to catch any whispers of "peace," "release," or "feeling nothing." Her sensitive nature made her particularly attuned to the absence of genuine emotion, a feeling that gnawed at her.
Shoji, quieter by nature, focused on intuition and his unique connection to the cognitive world. He paid close attention to the city's atmosphere, not just with his eyes and ears, but with a deeper sense. He often felt a faint, almost imperceptible chill, a subtle coldness in certain areas – not the physical cold of the Desert, but an emotional vacuum, like a dead spot in the bustling symphony of human feelings. These were the areas he instinctively felt might be linked to The Vigilante's presence, the subtle resonances of their "emptying" process. He kept these sensations to himself, unwilling to burden his friends with something they couldn't perceive.
Their efforts yielded fragmented whispers. Most people drew a blank, confirming The Vigilante's discreetness. Some, however, recalled vague, positive rumors, the kind that might surround any new, promising self-help trend. "Oh, yeah, I heard something about a new place that helps people really relax," a classmate might say, shrugging. "My mom saw an ad for some 'serenity workshops,' said it sounded interesting." It was all too generic, too easily dismissed as harmless. The sheer ordinariness of the rumors made the threat feel even more insidious.
Then, Minami spotted it. It wasn't a direct clue, but a pattern: the distinct, almost invisible symbol from the armband, subtly hidden within the decorative border of a faded printout on a local community center's bulletin board. It advertised a "Path to Inner Peace" seminar. The address listed led them to a quiet, unassuming residential area, a slightly rundown but otherwise unremarkable two-story building that had been converted into small office spaces. It was the perfect camouflage for an operation that thrived on blending in.
They decided on a quick stakeout, choosing a spot across the street behind a row of overgrown hedges. The late afternoon sun dipped, casting long shadows, and the air grew cool. They watched, debated, and tried to reconcile the mundane exterior with the chilling reality of what might be happening within.
"Think this is it?" Taiga whispered, his voice hushed, a rare sight for him. He adjusted his stance, peering intently at the building.
"It has the feel," Shoji murmured, his senses prickling. That faint, synthetic coldness he'd sensed before was stronger here, radiating from the very bricks of the building. It was like a perfectly air-conditioned room in a heatwave, unnervingly cool against the warmth of the city.
Just as dusk settled completely, a figure emerged from the building's main door.
They were dressed in perfectly normal, civilian clothing – a simple, unassuming suit that blended into the background, neither flashy nor memorable. They carried a sleek, professional-looking briefcase. For a fleeting moment, as they fumbled slightly with their keys, securing the door, they let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh of weariness, a breath that seemed utterly human, almost vulnerable.
Then, their eyes lifted, scanning the street, and landed directly on Shoji, Taiga, and Minami.
Shoji felt a jolt. This was it.
The figure approached them, their steps even, composed. The initial flicker of human tiredness vanished, replaced by an unsettlingly serene and vacant smile. It was a pleasant expression, utterly devoid of genuine warmth, the kind one might offer to a stranger in a waiting room, yet from this individual, it felt profoundly wrong.
"Oh, hello," the figure's voice was calm, smooth, almost too perfectly modulated, lacking the subtle imperfections of a truly human voice. "Are you... here for a session? I apologize, I might be running a moment behind. Have you already scheduled with us, or are you seeking guidance for the first time?"
Taiga's jaw almost dropped. Minami's eyes widened, a silent gasp escaping her lips. Shoji, recovering quicker, stepped forward, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, despite the adrenaline coursing through him.
"A session? No, we... uh... are you asking if this is your place? We were just... looking for something in the area."
The leader's serene smile barely flickered, but a swift, unreadable observation passed through their eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of their head – a gesture that seemed curious, yet subtly analytical, as if categorizing a new variable. Despite being caught slightly off guard, their professional facade held firm.
"Ah, my apologies. A misunderstanding. This is indeed our facility. We are The Vigilante, a community dedicated to helping individuals find profound serenity and release from the burdens of their past." The leader's hand smoothly dipped into an inner pocket of their jacket, producing a sleek, minimalistic business card. It was obsidian black, with the unsettling Vigilante symbol subtly debossed in the corner, and a clean, stark white website address beneath it. They extended it towards Shoji. "You can think of us like a counseling service, but a bit different. If you or anyone you know ever feels weighed down, please remember our services. Our methods are... quite effective."
With another placid, emotionless smile, the leader politely excused themselves and departed, their steps calm and measured, blending into the flow of evening pedestrians. They simply walked away, leaving the trio rooted to the spot.
Shoji clutched the business card, its cool surface feeling like ice in his palm. Taiga slowly let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his usual boisterousness completely absent. Minami just stared at the empty space where the leader had stood, her face pale, a deep unease settling in her expressive eyes.
"He… he just… talked to us," Taiga finally managed, his voice hushed. "Like… like a regular person."
"But he wasn't" Minami whispered, a shiver running through her. "Did you see his eyes? And that… that calmness. It wasn't human. It was… too perfect."
Shoji looked at the card, then back at the unassuming building. The Vigilante wasn't a monstrous anomaly confined to another world. They were here, mingling with the everyday, offering a polished, professional facade to lure in the vulnerable. The chilling realization settled over him: the enemy they faced was not one of raw power, but of insidious influence, quietly erasing souls in the heart of their city. This was a battle they hadn't anticipated, and it was going to be far more complicated than any Shadow encounter.