Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

Since her first battle, Medu-chan had been handling the fights against the World Shadow without the slightest sign of danger. She sometimes forgot to cover her face, but when it came to the actual fighting, it was one-sided.
Being an avid fan of Invisible Titan, Medu-chan already knew that espers were fighting against amorphous black monsters. On top of that, she had experience in life-or-death combat in conflict zones against enemies who were out for her blood. She knew, and she was used to it. That’s why she could manage things smoothly.

Her basic ability growth hit its cap at twenty cycles, with a continuous use limit of thirty seconds. By simple math, that meant she could petrify ten times in a row, and with breaks in between, she could keep going for a few minutes.
Medu-chan wanted to get stronger in preparation for the inevitable final showdown with the World Shadow inside the Sanctuary. And since I enjoyed playing the role of mentor, I happily moved her into applied training.

Her petrifying eyes—turning someone to stone with a glance—were already quite powerful. The weaknesses were that it only worked on living beings, and she could only petrify one target at a time.
If the enemy’s entire body was covered by cloth or something, the petrification wouldn’t work. If surrounded by multiple opponents, while she was glaring down one of them, the others could pummel her into defeat.
The World Shadow didn’t wear clothes, so the ability itself would never be nullified. The real problem was fighting outnumbered. Which meant: if she could petrify multiple targets at once, she’d overcome her main weakness.

Medu-chan fought by wearing an eyepatch over her right eye and using her left to petrify. But whether with one eye or both, it still took three seconds to petrify.
If she were projecting some kind of imperceptible force from her eyes, then cutting it to one eye should halve the output and double the time—six seconds. Since that wasn’t the case, then in theory, if she could do the contradictory act of focusing on multiple targets at once, she could petrify them simultaneously.

We tried training with 3D picture books to practice focusing, or with colored contacts and tinted glasses, but the results were not promising.
Medu-chan pushed herself so much her eyes were red and watery all day, but there wasn’t the slightest sign she could petrify multiple targets at once.

However, there was an unexpected side benefit.
From overusing her eyes, her vision sharpened dramatically during ability use.

Medu-chan’s normal eyesight was 1.8.
The more she trained, the higher it went while using her ability—now it exceeded 6.0 and was still climbing.
I’d heard the Masai in Africa have vision of 12, so she wasn’t there yet, but she could already petrify enemies from distances impossible to detect with normal sight.
The ability didn’t really suit head-on combat. She’d be most effective moving unseen, concealing her presence—an assassin style. Unlike a sniper, there’s no trajectory or gunshot. If she developed night vision on top of this, she’d be a perfect assassin.

On the other hand, the drawback was how impractical the power was outside of combat. You couldn’t casually use it to make everyday life easier, cheat a little, or play around. Paralysis and petrification were too lethal. In that sense, it was a truly vicious ability.

Now then.
Her ability was battle-ready. Nearly two months had passed, so it was time to move on to the final stage of establishing the Middle East branch.

Medu-chan would get her happy ending by defeating the great Shadow behind the Marlstān conflict.
For that, the right battlefield and timing were essential.

The place of the final battle was already decided: inside the Sanctuary where the Shadow was sealed.
So I dug a secret underground passage in the mountains near Arinātaya and built a mysterious Arabian-style temple in the heart of the mountain. I didn’t bother with structural calculations or seismic reinforcement—it was all brute-forced with psychokinesis. I’d collapse it and bury everything in darkness once the event was over anyway, so there’s no need to sweat the details
Ruin sites were best left to collapse anyway—it made cleanup easy. I’d learned that back in Marineland.

The temple looked shiny and brand-new, but with Medu-chan, who’d dropped out of primary school, I could probably bluff it.
“Wow, must be some mysterious power keeping it in its original glory for thousands of years!” See? Psychic powers are amazing.

With the battlefield fabricated, all that was left was timing.
To end the conflict at the same moment as the Shadow was defeated, coordination with the adults who would bring peace was necessary.
That night, I took Medu-chan to a tavern in a back alley of Arinātaya.
Ending the war was up to the adults of Marlstān, and the future belonged to the children. Both sides needed to talk it out and make their plan. I’d just slip in my little charade without disrupting them.

The plan was for leaders of the revolutionary organization to meet here tonight. My job was to introduce them to Medu-chan.
The leaders already knew mysterious monsters had been appearing nightly in Marlstān, and their trusted Japanese advisors weren’t hiding their loyalty to an esper. Medu-chan’s story should go over smoothly.

The tavern was bustling, filled to capacity with drink and laughter. The small shop, about the size of a convenience store. It was remarkably brighter than just two months ago.
Logistics, which had been sluggish due to liberation movements by citizen revolutionary organizations across the land, had started moving again. Thanks to this, people could now enjoy luxury items like alcohol.

I pulled out my wallet to buy Medu-chan a drink, but she instead offered me a pouch with both hands.

“Lord Sago, please. There’s enough for tonight’s enjoyment.”
“Don’t spoil me.”

Being treated to booze by a fourteen-year-old girl would be a shame I’d never live down. That’s what gigolos do.
I shoved a few high-denomination bills into her pouch and handed it back, despite her flustered refusal.

She should just enjoy herself like a child—it made me happy to provide. After all, I was earning plenty…
*…Actually, was I?*
With Ama-no-Iwato closed for relocation, I had zero income.
*Which meant—I was handing my wife’s allowance to a foreign girl as pocket money…!?*
*No, stop! Don’t think about it! Best to drink and forget!*

I ordered the strongest drink at the counter. Two seats over, Medu-chan had barely sat down when a drunk uncle started bothering her, foam on his mustache from too much beer.

“Gyahaha! This ain’t no place for brats! Go home, eat your mama’s cooking, and sleep!”
“My mother is dead.”
“Whoops, my bad! Want some milk?”

He shoved his half-finished mug of milk at her. A little kind, in a way.

“Thank you. Who are you, uncle?”
“Uncle here’s a bigshot in the revolutionary group!”

Medu-chan nearly spit milk everywhere, coughing violently.
Yup. Good reaction.
That man was Hishām, head of the Arinātaya branch of the revolutionary group. A good-natured man who could get drunk off the smell of alcohol. He had no special skills himself, but people followed him for his warmth.

While Medu-chan fumbled through awkward small talk, I grinned. At the same time, the man beside me whispered in Japanese without making eye contact.

“Boss. The tavern is secured with our people. Two snipers posted outside. No interruptions.”
“Good work.”
“Yes.”

That was Fushimi (25, married), of the Japanese Former-Terrorist Volunteer Corps.
I had my own barrier up in case of a sudden earth-penetrating bomb, but his attention to detail was welcome. It was such planning that fueled the revolution’s success.

“Fushimi.”
“Yes.”
“How are things?”
“Good. And Her Majesty Lonalia, is she well?”
“Yeah.”

Maybe ask about your wife too, huh?
Then again, when I checked on her yesterday, she was cleaning her gun barrel and asked me the exact same thing.
What kind of training had Baba put them through?

Other patrons cast glances at the two mysterious Asians whispering in a foreign language, but no one could understand.

Two men muttering cryptically in a strange tongue at a bar—it really had a secret-society vibe. Talk about exciting.
Let’s make it even more mysterious. Heh heh.

“Fushimi.”
“Yes.”
“What about that matter?”
“…Sir?”
“Huh?”
“What matter? Could you be more specific?”
“…Forget I said anything.”

He looked genuinely puzzled.
Conversation failed. There was no ‘that matter.’

Trying to drown the vague awkwardness in sake, I listened to Fushimi recount the situation again while snacking on roasted chickpeas. Then I noticed the tavern was suddenly buzzing with excitement.
Looking over, I saw Medu standing on a chair, gesturing wildly as she chattered away to the drunken crowd cheering her on.
What’s happening…? She was speaking the local language, so I had no clue.

“Fushimi, do you understand her?”
“Yes. I’m not particularly fluent in Pashto, but I can make it out.”

He listened a moment, then said uncertainly:

“She’s giving a speech about the greatness of Invisible Titan.”
“She’s what?”
“Yes. She’s praising Invisible Titan. Though he has unmatched power, he’s never arrogant, and always extends a hand to their feet soles…no, footland, ah, hometown—Marlstān in its time of need. Ah—she says he kindly gives out candy with a different flavor every day.”
“…………”

*Medu-chan…*
*My face is burning, Medu-chan…*
*Why would you do that…?*
*Why proselytize with such fervor—right in front of the person himself…?*

“Fushimi.”
“Yes.”
“Stop her.”
“Understood.”

Fushimi slipped behind Medu-chan and swiftly put her in a sleeper hold, knocking her out.
Carrying her limp body back, his eyes were full of gentle pity.
*Don’t look at me like that! What’s wrong with giving out candy!? Everyone likes candy! I just thought they’d get bored if it was the same flavor every day! It’s not a crime!*
*Why am I being humiliated like this…!?*

Looking away from him, I asked Hishām about the arrangements, and when he said the meeting was finished, I hurried out carrying Medu-chan on my back.

The decisive battle would be the day after tomorrow.