Genbu Compared

The spark leaked out from within.

'Clan Genbu's Nineteen-Year-Old Hope Seriously Injured—Accidents Continue in Training Division?'

The clan had not made the incident public. But when one of the industry's largest clan's ace candidates disappeared from the front lines, there was no way to keep it hidden. A missed joint training session. Sponsorship deals put on hold. By the time news organizations began seeking confirmation, Genbu's PR department took a full day to respond.

In that single day, the internet finished verifying the story first.

'【Verification】 Genbu Ace's Accident Could Have Been Prevented by Following Shin's Course's Retreat Criteria'

The thread starter's method was simple. They arranged the incident's reported sequence of events chronologically, then pasted the archive of Lesson Fourteen of the course—the lesson on retreat criteria—beside it.

Report: Twelve minutes after combat began, they confirmed that the formation had broken down, yet the fighting continued.

Course: "A breakdown in formation is the first condition for retreat. You regroup after falling back to a safe area."

Report: Fell while moving across a rocky ledge in a fatigued state. Unable to protect themselves when they fell because combat was still ongoing.

Course: "On days when you're tired, place your heels down first. And don't fight anywhere you can't afford to fall."

【Stop giving the answer away】

【The free beginner's course is becoming a superior version of a major clan's training division】

【These retreat criteria are behind hundreds of survival reports since last month...】

The tide turned that evening.

【I've been wondering about this for a while. Kenjo Rei, Hidō Mio, Shishiōmaru, Yagarasu, and Shirose Kokoro. All five S-rank explorers came from Genbu's training facility, right?】

【And the period when all five of them were trained lines up perfectly with the eight years that former exclusive coach "Hiiragi Shinichi" served there.】

【So Genbu is the clan that treated the man who trained humanity's five strongest as a "parasite," cut him loose, and then even issued an official statement saying they had "no connection"?】

【The dots have turned into a line.】

"The clan that cut loose the man who trained humanity's five strongest."

By nightfall, that one line had taken the form of a headline and, for the first time, begun circulating beyond the internet.

◇

The next day, the press-conference hall on the first floor of Genbu headquarters had run out of chairs.

Onstage, Togakushi Gen stood with his back straight. He was the man who had made his name as an A-rank attacker and built the industry's largest clan in a single lifetime. When it came to the number of scrapes he'd survived, he considered himself second to no one in the room.

"Regarding this incident, we will devote every effort to supporting the injured member's recovery. However, there are no deficiencies in our training system of the kind some have alleged. Our clan's training program is scientific and systematic, developed in cooperation with specialized institutions, and—we are confident—it is of the highest standard in the world."

The prepared statement ended there. Then came questions. The first reporter he called on, from an economic newspaper, rose while flipping through the documents in his hands.

"You say it is of the highest standard in the world."

The reporter's voice was flat.

"Since its founding, your clan's training division has produced five S-rank explorers: Kenjo Rei, Hidō Mio, Shishiōmaru, Yagarasu, and Shirose Kokoro. All five were trained during the eight years when Hiiragi Shinichi served as their exclusive coach. Meanwhile, during those same eight years, not a single trainee who did not receive Hiiragi's instruction rose to S-rank—or even to A-rank. And in recent years, only the accident reports have increased. So I would like to ask: Is it your clan's training program that is of the highest standard in the world—or is it Hiiragi Shinichi, whom your clan recently declared to be "unrelated"?"

The press-conference hall fell silent.

Togakushi opened his mouth.

He opened it—and nothing came out.

He should have had material for a rebuttal. But what rose to mind was the mountain of documents piled on the desk in the chairman's office: the research team's complete record of that course. The more he read, the more that stack of papers became a catalog of everything Genbu had spent eight years cutting from its training facility.

And then—there was that man's slight back as he folded the notice in half and bowed, saying, "Well, yes, I suppose so."

The silence lasted five seconds. For a press conference, it was nearly an eternity.

"...We recognize that the results of training are attributable to a combination of factors..."

The flatness that should belong only to settled matters was gone from the voice he forced out.

At the back of the hall, Nagumo of the Strategic Planning Department silently looked up at the ceiling.

An hour later, those five seconds were clipped and uploaded under the title "Highest Standard in the World (Five Seconds of Silence)," and the view count reached eight digits by the next morning.

◇

As for me, I'd like to say it was another peaceful day—but this time, I really couldn't.

I'd turned off notifications. Even so, the commotion outside seeped in through the cracks. The streaming site's management forwarded twenty-three interview requests, and the Association called once, politely and indirectly asking me to "be careful with my comments."

My routine hadn't changed, though. I cooked rice, leafed through my notebook, and prepared for the night's stream.

That night, Lesson Twenty-Seven began as announced.

"Good evening, I'm Shin. If there are any first-time viewers, let me say the usual thing. This is a course for beginners. I won't be covering flashy techniques or talking about the strongest gear. It's dull. Probably shockingly dull. —Lesson Twenty-Seven: 'How to Draw a Map.'"

【Here it is, the map lesson I had a feeling would become legendary】

【A map lesson from the man who "only gave us a map"】

【Teacher, the press conference...】

【Stop. It's lesson time.】

"As I said last time, getting stranded doesn't begin when you get lost. It begins the moment you stop keeping records. So today's lesson isn't about whether you're good or bad at drawing. It's about developing the habit of stopping at a fork and writing down three things: the time, the direction you've traveled, and the landmark you can see when you look back. ...The way home isn't something you search for when you're heading home. It's something you draw on the way in."

I taught the usual forty-minute lesson. The only unusual things were the viewer count and the hints of another topic mixed into the edges of the comments.

"And now, the question corner."

I had a feeling it would come. The first question I picked was that one.

'What do you think about Genbu's accident and today's press conference, Teacher? There's also been an analysis saying it could have been prevented if they had followed your retreat criteria.'

The comments began to race faster.

【You really going to ask that?】

【No, but this is what everyone wanted to hear】

【Tell them, Teacher. You can say "serves them right."】

"Well, first—"

I set down my teacup.

"I hope the injured person makes a full recovery. They're nineteen, right? That's an age when an explorer's body can still be rebuilt and strengthened in any number of ways. I hope they won't rush themselves."

【...】

【Teacher, that's not what we meant】

"As for that analysis, I don't know whether it could have been prevented. You can't know the atmosphere at the scene unless you were there. Thinking you understand everything just by watching a recording from the outside is the most dangerous habit an explorer can have. Make sure you don't do that."

【That hits close to home】

【People in the verification thread, you alive?】

"But there is one thing I want to say. —Blaming an accident won't improve anyone's skills. That applies no matter whose accident it is. If you have time to assign blame, pick out only what you can learn. What you can take from this incident is Lesson Fourteen's retreat criteria and today's lesson on maps. When the formation breaks down, fall back. Draw the route back while you're on the way in. ...If you remember only that and take it home with you, then that accident will have saved someone's life. As ways of using the news go, I think that's the best one."

The comments fell silent for a little while.

【...That's exactly the kind of thing Teacher would say】

【I came here hoping to see him get what he deserved, and now I'm ashamed of myself】

【"Blaming an accident won't improve anyone's skills." I'm framing that.】

【I'm gradually understanding, piece by piece, why all five of them were trained by this person】

【Seeing this on the same day as the press-conference clip really hits hard...】

【Teacher...! I'll draw my maps properly...!】

【Hina-chan, do your assignment first】

【Are you Teacher now?】

That night, two clips were spread side by side. One showed the chairman falling silent for five seconds; the other showed a course that blamed no one.

I wasn't the one who put them side by side. The world has always been a quick editor.

◇

After ending the stream, I began preparing for the next one.

There was one topic that had been steadily accumulating votes in the request box: 'How to Walk Through a Snow-Mountain-Type Dungeon.' Reports of people getting stranded in snow-mountain-type dungeons never stopped, regardless of the season, and it was about time to do that lesson.

I pulled the snow-mountain volume from the cardboard boxes by the wall. The date on the cover was six years ago. When I opened it, I could almost smell the cold air of the training ground before dawn rising from between the painstaking diagrams and equations.

How to read magical residue on snow surfaces. Controlling incantations in a whiteout. The decline in magical circulation under hypothermia. —Half of this notebook was what I had observed and put into words.

And the other half was what the very person who had let me make those observations had demonstrated in the deserted training ground before dawn—more quietly and more precisely than anyone else.

A specialist in snow-mountain-type dungeons. The only mage in humanity to have successfully cleared the deep levels of a snow-mountain-type dungeon alone.

—Hidō Mio. It was Mio's specialty.

"...Though Mio probably isn't watching."

I muttered to no one in particular and turned to the rest of the notebook.

On the other side of the screen, I remained unaware that the icon of a small hand-sewn pouch was glowing in a corner of the likes section, as it did every night.