"What?"

"Nope, wrong!"

*Bang!* A shot rang out, and Mr. Nobody was finally killed.

At least, he pretended to be.

"Ghaa... Why, Mr. Nobody?! Why did you kill me?!"

"Huh?"

A little boy with skin noticeably fairer than most around here and clear blue eyes looked puzzled at his toy gun.

He cleared his throat and looked again at the one who had been "killed."

"Ahem, don’t worry, that was just a warning. I won’t kill you just yet."

"S-so, you’ll spare me?"

"Heh-heh, that depends on..." The boy smirked haughtily and reached for his belt. "Can you even see Nobody?"

After that, awkwardly moving his hands, he pulled a white plastic mask with an elastic band over his face.

The boy continued to laugh haughtily, aiming the toy gun.

"Haa?!" He opened his mouth in surprise. "No way, so that wasn’t your real face?! Looks like you really are Mr. Nobody—the coolest mercenary, the terror of the streets, and the worst nightmare of wolves in suits!"

"Heh-heh, you’ve finally figured it out. But that means you’re nothing more than a dead man now..."

Just as the boy was speaking, he abruptly drew his revolver and spun it on his finger.

*Click* The barrel of a real gun was pressed against the boy’s head.

"Huh?" The masked boy stared in shock at the cold steel.

"But Mr. Nobody’s main weapon is a revolver." He smiled. "And do you know why?"

"W-why?"

"Because it’s damn cool."

Then he demonstratively spun the revolver on his finger and tucked it into his pocket.

"Wow..." the boy whispered admiringly.

"..." The cat watched this interaction as if she wanted to roll her eyes.

The boy timidly removed his white mask and revealed his face again. He was dressed in light clothing, including a colorful shirt.

This confirmed that the warmth emanating from the sun in the sky at this spot was real.

"What’s your name, kid?"

"Um, Damian! Damian Moreno!" exclaimed the boy, who looked to be about 8 or 9 years old.

At that moment, they were surrounded by a group of boys and girls cheerfully humming a tune.

"Ding-ding-dong, ding-ding-dong, Nobody’s at your door."

"Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock-knock, Nobody wants you more."

"Tip-tip-tap, tip-tip-tap, Nobody’s coming in."

"Tip-tip-tap, tip-tip-tap, Nobody owns your soul."

"..." He scratched his cheek with an awkward smile and glanced at the cat.

"Identify yourself, stranger!!!" The children shouted with smiles and pointed their toy guns at him.

One of the boys nudged the first boy and whispered something in his ear.

"G-give us the password to get in!"

"Password..." Mr. Nobody thought for a moment, then replied in a whisper.

"Uh... fuck Big Brother?"

"Yes! Fuck Big Brother!" Damian exclaimed joyfully.

"Fuck Big Brother!!!" The kids shouted in response.

’This is insane...’ Looking closely, Mr. Nobody confirmed once again that each of these children had a Neodeca in their temple.

Nevertheless, even he was afraid to say it out loud, but the children weren’t.

It was madness, but the fact was that nothing happened to the children. None of them had suddenly vanished, and they were unlikely to vanish if they wandered into a dark alley.

Such was the Southville underground—a place without a single surveillance camera.

"Tsk, kids these days are swearing more and more." He shook his head.

"That’s not true!" Damian protested. "It’s just that my dad isn’t working today, and we decided to guard this entrance! Today was the first time I ever said a bad word!"

"Yeah!"

"We don’t swear!"

"Yeah, right." He glanced toward the bar’s entrance. "And why isn’t your dad working today?"

"He said that since Mr. Nobody isn’t coming, there’s no point in this at all!"

"Well, I see..."

After looking the boy over from head to toe once more, he sighed heavily. It seemed this really was the son of his broker and closest friend—Marcel Moreno.

"Hey, mister, what do you think?" One of the little girls approached him. "We were arguing about who’s cooler, Ghost or Mr. Nobody."

Before he could answer, the children erupted into a commotion.

"Ghost won’t even have time to figure it out before Mr. Nobody takes him out!"

"Yeah! Mr. Nobody will take on the appearance of Ghost’s best friend, get close, and... Boom!"

"That’s not true! The bullet won’t even have time to fly before Ghost burns him with a snap of his fingers!"

"Then Mr. Nobody will just set a trap in advance and blow Ghost up! You heard the news about how one of the bases was blown up right in Concord two weeks ago? I swear, Mr. Nobody blew it up! Ghost could never pull something like that off."

"He could easily! He just didn’t want to!"

"That’s why Mr. Nobody is cooler! Besides, Ghost went missing recently, and everyone thought he was dead... Wasn’t it Mr. Nobody who saved him?"

"All right, all right, kids, please calm down." He pressed a hand to his face and stepped forward. "You’re all talking about those two... but isn’t there someone cooler?"

"WHAT?!" The children shouted in unison, shocked.

Mr. Nobody motioned for them to watch him.

"Look." He took the cat off his shoulder and held it up for everyone to see. "What is that?"

"..." She remained silent, barely reacting at all. Only her eye twitched ever so slightly... It seems habits can be contagious.

"That’s..." About eight pairs of surprised eyes stared at the cat.

"A black cat in a damn black cape. And this is...?"

He snapped his fingers in Damien’s direction.

"D-damn cool??"

"Spot on. This is what true cool looks like."

For a moment, the kids blinked in amazement... Then they burst out laughing.

They laughed so hard they had to hold their stomachs.

"Hahaha, mister, are you an idiot?!"

He couldn’t help but smile.

"Well, welcome to the real Southville, kitty." He exchanged a glance with her. "I think you’ll like it here."

"Meow..."

...

Mr. Nobody moved along the well-lit street alongside a boy — Damian. The other children stayed near the bar’s entrance.

The women and young people they passed were initially surprised by the unfamiliar face, but then waved cheerfully.

He even knew some of them, though they couldn’t recognize his face now.

It wasn’t for any real precaution, but every time he came to the Southville underground, he always wore a different face.

He always felt easier with the mask.

"There it is! This is the place I was talking about!" Damian exclaimed with a happy smile.

Mr. Nobody smiled again, looking at the boy.

’I thought Kuronuma was cute, but this kid is something else entirely... I can just imagine how happy the old man is.’

"Meow." The cat meowed and looked in the direction the boy was pointing.

The next moment, the smile on his face twisted into a crooked smile.

"What’s up Danger!" read the sign.

It was a small fan café dedicated to Mr. Nobody.

"This is where they serve the best coffee!"

A smeared, dripping orange smiley face was painted across almost the entire front door—the very same symbol he used to cover up surveillance cameras and images of Big Brother.

Surprisingly, it seemed this place was quite popular.

"And right across the street is the place that serves the best pasta in the world! By the way, my mom cooks there—it’s the restaurant Marta’s."

"Hah, well, figures."

Upon entering, he was surprised to find that the place was packed despite having so few seats, and a line had formed in front of the only person behind the counter.

He was even more surprised to see that there were not only women and children here, but also a couple of men.

The condition of men in Southville was one of the reasons he had such a complicated relationship with this place... But here they were intently looking over notes and graffiti on the walls, sipping black coffee.

The café walls were painted with various scenes depicting Mr. Nobody’s "exploits."

The most vivid scene showed a man in a dark cloak with a "blurred" face fighting a metallic beast with red eyes.

Next to it was a scene where, in a defiant pose, he was giving the middle finger to Big Brother, and in another, he held a finger to his lips at people in suits who were brought to their knees.

"Is it even okay for kids to be in a place like this..."

"Good afternoon, what would you like? If this is your first time here, you should try the classic."

Before he knew it, it was his turn, and the girl with light brown hair behind the counter called him over.

"Oh." He was surprised, having recognized a familiar face. "One Americano, one glass of milk, and one milkshake. All to go."

"Just a couple of minutes." The girl behind the counter smiled happily, looking at the cat with interest.

"..." At the same time, the cat’s gaze became rather intimidating.

A couple of minutes later, he paid for the order and handed the milkshake to Damian.

"Thanks!" the boy replied with a smile and ran back outside.

He smiled back and offered the milk to the cat.

"Goodbye, Francesca," he said, turning away.

"Thank you, and come back aga... Huh?"

Looking up, the girl saw neither the man nor his cat. It was as if they had never been there at all.

...

Mr. Nobody chuckled quietly, sipping his Americano with relish.

"Thanks for showing me the way, Damian." He ruffled the boy’s hair.

"You’re welcome, it’s one of my two favorite places! Now come on, I’ll show you where they make the pasta..." The boy’s voice trailed off, then gave way to a joyful cry. "Mom and Dad!"

With a happy smile, Damian ran toward the two people coming out of the restaurant across the street.

"Oh, my little rascal, what are you doing here?" A surprised Marcel embraced his son.

"I met this weird, really cool guy!"

"A-a stranger?"

"W-weard?"

"Yes! He is just... wait, where is he?"

The three of them looked around, but saw only emptiness, with only an abandoned cup of half-drunk coffee.

...

In the shade of a narrow alley,

"... Paymax, how much time do I have until the scheduled meeting with Noir?"

He pulled at his mask, wiping the sweat that had appeared on his forehead.

"Two days..."

"I need the exact time."

"39 hours, 56 minutes."

*Click* He lifted his mask, snapped his fingers — and a cigarette lit up between them.

"Meow..." She looked up at his face.

"...Sorry, kitty. Looks like I only belong in the shadows."

"..." She said nothing and rested her head on the top of his head.

After putting out the cigarette, he moved on to what he came here for in the first place.

Only here did he have a chance to find something that would allow him to reach the First Step before the suicide mission... He had only 39 hours left.