They stood outside at the Loose Company. An enigmatic facility hidden in the heart of the city, known for handling the impossible—cases where objects became mysteriously fused to the human body.
The headquarters loomed like a monument to desperation. A monolithic structure of gleaming glass and black steel, it pierced the overcast sky, each window reflecting the dull gray clouds above. Sanichi gripped Zen'no's hand tightly as they approached the entrance.
The boy walked in silence, head down, his steps heavy. The weight of the crown on his head, unseen by many, was more than just physical.
Inside, the facility was cold, sterile. A low murmur filled the air—dozens of patients and their families seated in stiff rows, their eyes hollow with uncertainty.
The atmosphere was heavy, like the walls themselves absorbed the despair of every person who had walked through the doors.
At the front desk sat a woman in a crisp gray uniform, her dark hair tied in a tight bun. Her eyes were sharp and analytical, darting up from a terminal as Sanichi approached.
"State your case," she said curtly, fingers poised over the keyboard.
Sanichi stepped forward,
"Good morning, and may peace be with you. My concern was my son. A crown appeared on his head out of nowhere. No one can touch it. It injuries anyone who tries."
The receptionist arched a skeptical brow.
"A crown? Injuries? What kind of crown is that? Describe it."
"I'm with my son and he's by my side. Take a look at him." Sanichi said.
She stood up.
"Oh? Is that it? Strange… It looks ancient to me. Based on your testimony, it just appeared on his head and caused harm to anyone who touched it, correct?"
"Yes." He rolled up his sleeve to show the deep gashes etched into his forearm. "This is the result of that attempt. When I tried to remove it, it lashed out."
The woman leaned forward slightly,
inspecting the scars with a clinical eye. Then her gaze flicked toward Zen'no. The boy stood stiffly, but his mother held his hand, making him feel he was not alone.
She pressed a few keys, eyes scanning the screen.
"We've had anomalous fusion cases before, but reactive injuries? That narrows the field." Her voice dropped slightly. "Do you have any medical documents, incident logs, photographs?"
Sanichi shook his head.
"No, Loose Company is the sixth place we've come to. The others couldn't do anything—some wouldn't even let us in once they saw the crown. We're out of options."
The receptionist studied him for a moment longer, then finally reached into a drawer and slid across two visitor badges.
"You'll need to see Dr. Seijirou Kisaragi. Restricted wing, Sublevel Three. Follow the black line on the floor."
Sanichi nodded his thanks and led Zen'no down a hallway that felt more like a descent than a path. The white walls gave way to darker panels, the lighting dimmed, and the noise of the lobby faded into a ghostly silence.
Meeting Dr. Kisaragi
The door to the specialist's office was simple—black, unadorned, but labeled in chrome: Dr. Seijirou Kisaragi, Lead Specialist.
Sanichi hesitated before pressing the chime.
"Enter," came a voice from within, calm and precise.
They stepped inside.
The room was spacious, lined with banks of softly glowing monitors and shelves of peculiar instruments.
At the center stood a man in his early fifties, his dark hair shot through with silver. He turned, revealing eyes that were sharp but unreadable.
"You're the ones with the immovable crown, right?" he said without greeting, as if he'd been expecting them.
Sanichi nodded.
"Yes, and you are Dr. Seijirou Kisaragi?"
Dr. Kisaragi didn't reply; he just stepped closer, examining Zen'no with an intense gaze. Without making direct contact, he activated a sleek scanning device, passing it over Zen'no's head.
A holographic projection flickered to life, revealing an intricate network of veins, nerves, and—most importantly—the crown's deep integration into his head.
The doctor's brow furrowed.
"This is unlike anything I've seen before," he murmured. "It's not just attached to his skull. It's embedded in a way that defies biological logic. Attempting to force it off would be disastrous."
Sagira tightened her grip on Zen'no's hand.
"Is there any way around?" she asked, her voice trembling. "My son is exhausted. He's been moved from company to company, and none of them could help him. He's lost hope… and I can't bear to see him like this anymore."
She lowered her head, holding back tears.
"Please, help him. We'll do anything. Just… remove his crown. It weighs on him, along with the guilt. Please — can you take it off?"
Dr. Kisaragi straightened.
"Don't worry, ma'am. Problems always have solutions… There's a way. But it will require extreme precision. Follow me."
They entered the Operational Room.
They followed him to the operating chamber—cold, metallic, filled with blinking lights and the distant whir of automated tools.
The room was dominated by a surgical platform surrounded by robotic arms that hung from the ceiling, prepped for delicate procedures, each one calibrated for microscopic accuracy.
Zen'no stopped at the threshold. The sterile air, the scent of disinfectant—it all pressed down on him like a physical force. He gripped Sanichi's shirt, silent but trembling.
Sanichi crouched beside him, cupping his face gently, his voice a whisper.
"I know you're scared. We've come this far. This is your chance — the moment you've been waiting for. You've carried this guilt all the way here, even though I've already forgiven you. Starting today, forget everything that happened, okay? Let's settle this once and for all. May God make it easy for you."
Zen'no swallowed and gave a small nod.
He climbed onto the table, lying face-down as the head brace locked gently into place. His limbs were secured, but not harshly. The restraints were more about precision than force.
Behind the glass, Sanichi and Sagira stood with hands pressed against the window, their breath fogging the surface.
Dr. Kisaragi took his place at the control panel.
"Initiating extraction procedure."
One of the robotic arms descended, its joints clicking smoothly. A laser scalpel extended—a hair-thin blade of energy, hovering just above the crown's base.
The beam drew closer—
Suddenly, everything stopped.
Darkness fell like a curtain. The hum of machinery died, replaced by a suffocating silence.
Then the emergency lights flickered on—dim red strips that barely lit the room. The robotic arms hung frozen in place, the laser scalpel dead.
Monitors sparked and glitched. The air was thick with static.
"What's happening?!" Sanichi said.
Dr. Kisaragi stood motionless, his face had gone pale.
"This… isn't a power failure," he said quietly.
"Something interfered."