Rei Hoshino watched the three teenagers disappear around the corner, the crisp Minazuki evening air carrying faint echoes of their surprised murmurs. He allowed himself a small, private smile, a flicker of something almost akin to amusement that barely touched his eyes. He'd extended the business card as a matter of routine, a pleasant dismissal. Yet, the way they'd reacted – the boy's quick recovery, the girl's wide, observant eyes, the larger one's stunned silence – it was… interesting. Most people, when offered The Vigilante's path, were either desperate or dismissive. These three seemed neither.
Hmm, he thought, securing the door to the discreet facility behind him. Those kids. They look interesting.
He dismissed the thought quickly. Interest was an emotion, a distraction. His focus had to remain on serenity. True serenity, not the fleeting kind people found in temporary fixes, but the profound, permanent stillness born from absolute eradication of regret. This conviction was the very bedrock of The Vigilante, the philosophy he had meticulously forged from the crucible of his own past.
Rei Hoshino had once been a highly respected spiritual guide and therapist, a beacon of empathy for those lost in the labyrinth of their own sorrow. He had listened to countless tales of regret, of pain, of the crushing weight of what could not be changed. For years, he had offered comfort, guidance, and strategies for acceptance. But eventually, a profound, personal tragedy of his own had shattered his faith in conventional healing. He saw how people, even with the best intentions, would fall back into cycles of despair, how confronting their past was an agonizing, never-ending battle. He concluded that true peace was not to be found in processing pain, but in its absolute removal.
It was during this period of intense disillusionment, during a desperate search for answers beyond the known, that Rei first glimpsed the true nature of the Desert of Regrets. Not just a place where human sorrow manifested, but a vast, churning ocean of raw, unaddressed emotional energy. Guided by his newly awakened Persona, Metatron – a stern, judging presence that whispered of ultimate order and purification – he began to experiment.
He discovered that the Midnight Hour, when the veil between Minazuki and the Desert was thinnest, wasn't just a time for Shadows to slip into the real world; it was also a time when the deepest regrets of individuals could be drawn forth, the manifestation of their sorrow vulnerable to manipulation. He realized that the Shadow, the physical embodiment of that crushing regret, could be severed completely from its source in the cognitive world.
But Rei was a philosopher, a guide, not a technician of the soul. For the precise implementation of his vision, he needed others.
The Architects of Oblivion
He found Mika Kurokawa, a brilliant but disillusioned social psychologist and data analyst. Mika had spent years submerged in the endless, messy data of human behavior. She meticulously charted patterns of distress, cataloged societal vulnerabilities, and dissected the intricate webs of human neuroses. Her research led her to a stark conclusion: humanity was inherently flawed, constantly trapped in inefficient cycles of pain. She viewed emotions, especially negative ones, as chaotic variables, an unnecessary burden on what could be an optimized, perfectly functioning psyche. When Rei presented his philosophy of absolute emotional eradication, Mika saw not cruelty, but efficiency. It was the ultimate psychological optimization.
The final, brutal, and necessary component of The Vigilante's "cure" was found in Jin Akatsuki. Jin was a former special forces operative, forged in the crucible of conflict, where he had witnessed humanity's endless capacity for inflicting and enduring pain. He saw kindness as a weakness, emotion as a liability, and order as the only true salvation. When Rei offered a path to eliminate the very source of chaos – human feeling – Jin embraced it with fervent, cold conviction. He was the one who would ensure the "cure" was absolute.
The Operation: A Client's Journey to Stillness
The Vigilante's "cure" was a meticulously synchronized process, a chilling ballet of manipulation and execution.
Take, for instance, a new client, Mrs. Hamasaki. A middle-aged woman, her face etched with perpetual weariness, haunted by a deep-seated regret over a failed business venture that had cost her family dearly years ago. She had stumbled upon The Vigilante's discreet online presence, drawn by the promise of genuine peace.
The Counseling Session (Rei Hoshino):
Mrs. Hamasaki sat across from Rei in the tranquil, tastefully sparse counseling room within The Vigilante's Minazuki facility. Sunlight filtered gently through blinds, casting soft lines across the polished floor. Rei's voice was a low, soothing balm, utterly devoid of judgment.
"Mrs. Hamasaki," Rei began, his serene smile unwavering, "you carry a heavy burden, don't you? This... regret over the business. It consumes your thoughts, burdens your days, even haunts your sleep."
Mrs. Hamasaki nodded, her eyes welling. "It does. I can't shake it. The shame, the guilt... I feel like I've failed everyone."
"And you yearn for release from this cycle?" Rei pressed, his gaze piercing, yet somehow comforting in its unwavering placidness. "To simply... let go?"
"More than anything," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Rei leaned forward, his voice dropping to an almost hypnotic whisper. "Excellent. We can offer that. Not simply coping, but true, profound release. The past is but a thought, a construct that can be dissolved. Tonight, you will listen to this." He presented her with a sleek, unbranded pair of wireless earbuds and a small, smooth pebble-like device. "Begin this audio at precisely 11:45 PM. Lie down in a quiet space. Allow the frequencies to guide your mind. Allow your regret to surface, to become clear, but do not cling to it. Simply... prepare to release it."
He didn't explain how, only that it would happen. Mrs. Hamasaki, desperate for the promised stillness, simply nodded, clutching the device like a lifeline. Rei's notes on her deepest regrets, her precise emotional state, and even subtle details about her current thoughts were meticulously logged, then sent to Mika.
The Profiling (Mika Kurokawa):
Back in her stark, data-filled office, Mika Kurokawa received Rei's encrypted report on Mrs. Hamasaki. Her fingers flew across a specialized keyboard, entering the raw emotional data into a complex algorithm. She wasn't processing a person; she was analyzing a target. The details of Mrs. Hamasaki's regret – the specific shame, the guilt, the self-blame – were categorized, quantified.
Mika's cold, analytical mind processed the information. She understood how these specific emotional wavelengths manifested as a Shadow in the Desert, and crucially, how they tethered to the client's cognitive "door." Her algorithms predicted the exact coordinates, the specific "signature" of Mrs. Hamasaki's regret-Shadow. She then prepared a precise digital manifest for Jin: the Shadow's unique identifier, the predicted location of its manifestation, and the exact time it would be most vulnerable to extraction and destruction. No wasted movements, no unnecessary variables. Just efficiency.
The Eradication (Jin Akatsuki):
As midnight approached, the Desert of Regrets shimmered under a moonless sky. Jin Akatsuki, clad in his dark, tactical uniform and featureless mask, materialized within the desolate landscape. In his hand, a heavy, void-infused pistol.
His earpiece crackled with Mika's cold, synthesized voice. "Target: Hamasaki, Shadow Manifestation Epsilon-7. Coordinates: 34.78 N, 135.50 E. Prime vulnerability window: 00:00 to 00:05."
Jin moved with silent, brutal efficiency. The landscape here was a familiar, distorted reflection of Minazuki, twisted by collective sorrow. Following Mika's precise instructions, he navigated the shifting terrain until he found it: a shimmering, ephemeral doorway, flickering with the chaotic energy of Mrs. Hamasaki's regret. Through it, he could see a faint, agitated form, the manifestation of her shame and guilt.
As the clock struck midnight, the Shadow of Mrs. Hamasaki, a grotesque, amorphous blob writhing with tendrils of self-loathing, was pulled entirely through its cognitive door. It screamed, a silent, guttural sound of pure anguish, as it recognized its fate.
Jin raised his pistol. There was no hesitation, no emotion. His Persona, Cronus, manifested briefly behind him, a dark, consuming presence. A beam of pure, annihilating energy lanced forth from his weapon, tearing through the Shadow. It shrieked, its form twisting, but Jin continued the relentless barrage. The Shadow didn't just burst; it disintegrated, its essence tearing apart, leaving behind only a hollow, lifeless husk that crumbled into dust. The air where it had been felt cold, empty.
The Path to Pure Serenity
This systematic approach, fusing psychological manipulation with precise cognitive realm eradication, became their "cure."
Their chilling conviction stemmed from a profound, shared delusion that they were truly "saving" humanity. They saw the traditional processes of grief, therapy, and acceptance as a painful, endless cycle, a "slow poison" that perpetuated suffering. Rei would calmly articulate that emotions, particularly negative ones, were merely parasitic burdens, hindering humanity's true potential for serene existence. Jin viewed his work as a necessary "culling," a surgical removal of weakness for the greater good of absolute order. Mika believed it was the ultimate, most efficient form of human psychological optimization, ridding individuals of their "bugs" and "inefficiencies."
The resulting emotional tranquility and often vacant demeanor in their "cured" clients was not seen as a side effect, but as a desired outcome. They referred to it as "attaining true equilibrium," "shedding unnecessary weight," or "achieving pure serenity." To them, the subtle lack of genuine emotion was not a flaw, but a sign of successful purification—a client finally free from the messy, inefficient burden of human feeling. They genuinely believe they are benefactors, delivering a necessary, albeit unconventional, "salvation."
Rei looked out his office window at the twinkling lights of Minazuki. The city, oblivious to the hidden cleansing taking place beneath its surface, continued its endless cycle of hopes and disappointments. He paused, his gaze momentarily unfocused. Shoji and his friends… they were a variable he hadn't accounted for. A small ripple in the otherwise perfectly orchestrated current of their work. He considered them for a moment longer, a flicker of that unsettling "interest" returning. Then, with a faint, internal shift, he turned back to the quiet hum of his office, his focus returning to the path of pure serenity.