Furthermore, the material the Diary was crafted from remained a total mystery.
It felt weightless in one’s grip, as if holding nothing at all.
Yet the moment Kazuha Tōyama let go, the Diary plummeted straight to the floor with a heavy crash, instantly seeming impossibly dense.
Testing a sudden thought, Kazuha summoned every ounce of her physical strength and hurled the Diary forward.
With a massive boom, the discarded notebook shattered the sound barrier, rocketing through the air like a streak of pure light.
The sheer velocity etched prominent Mach diamonds along its wake.
A deafening explosion tore across the terrain moments later.
A small knoll situated far down the shooting range looked as though it had just taken a direct hit from a heavy naval artillery shell.
With a single thought from Kazuha, the Diary vanished from the rubble and reappeared in her hand, utterly pristine without a single blemish.
She stared at the billowing mushroom of dust rising in the distance, murmuring in a hushed tone, “Incredible…”
“If used this way, it functions as an indestructible throwing weapon with destructive force rivaling an artillery bombardment.”
“This object is utterly miraculous.
I have no idea what scientific principles could possibly govern it.”
What Kazuha did not realize was that the physical Diary possessed a true mass of one kilogram, yet it registered as a mere 0.1 grams in the hands of the designated heroines.
If their baseline strength could throw a one-kilogram object at twenty meters per second, applying that exact same kinetic force to a perceived mass of 0.1 grams multiplied the resulting acceleration a hundredfold.
Consequently, Kazuha’s full-power toss had propelled the Diary to an astonishing speed of Mach 6.
Upon impact, the kinetic energy delivered was equivalent to a solid one-kilogram mass colliding with the target at Mach 6.
Such devastating output naturally matched the destructive payload of a heavy four-to-five-kilogram artillery shell.
…
Over in the Land of Shadows, Tsunade formed a scalpel of condensed Chakra across her fingertips, executing a rapid, relentless flurry of incisions across her Diary.
Her efforts failed to leave even a faint scratch.
“It truly is miraculous and indestructible.”
“For such an impossible artifact to fall right into my lap…”
“If that’s the case, then the entries recorded within this text must be the absolute truth.”
Tsunade’s gaze turned razor-sharp in an instant: ‘What did his final remark mean?’
‘Could there be some hidden conspiracy behind Nawaki’s death all those years ago?’
‘Fine then.
Whoever had a hand in my little brother’s death, I will uncover the truth and drag them to justice myself.’
She shoved her bedroom door open, barking a command toward the adjacent room: “Shizune, pack our gear immediately.
We are departing for the Land of Ke.”
Hearing the sudden order, Shizune gasped in surprise: “Tsunade-sama, the Land of Ke is the sovereign territory of the Hidden Cloud Village!
Isn’t infiltrating their borders far too dangerous?”
“It doesn’t matter.
We will slip in covertly so their sensory divisions never notice our presence.
I have an absolute reason to go there, and I must go!”
Seeing the unwavering resolve etched across Tsunade’s features, Shizune could only bow her head and comply: “Understood!”
Meanwhile, the petite Nezuko Kamado, biting down on her bamboo muzzle, tugged urgently at Tanjiro’s sleeve, shaking his arm back and forth while struggling to force syllables through her teeth: “Ke…
Ke…
Land of Ke!
Go…
go!”
Tanjiro blinked down at her, clearly bewildered: “Nezuko, are you saying you want us to head to the Land of Ke?”
“Why the sudden desire to go there?”
Transformed into a Demon, Nezuko could only manage fragmented vocalizations, unable to articulate full sentences.
She simply stamped her foot in frustration, whining urgently, “Go…
go!”
Tanjiro fell silent for a brief moment of contemplation, before a warm smile broke across his face: “Alright.
If you truly want to go there, then we’ll set off right away.”
He gently helped Nezuko into the wooden box, hoisted the straps across his shoulders, and began the long journey toward the Land of Ke.
…
Within the Nation of Japan, at Tokiwadai Middle School.
The Railgun, Mikoto Misaka, sat behind her laptop, her slender fingers a blur across the keyboard.
After several uninterrupted minutes of data mining, she snapped the device shut with a defeated sigh.
“Not a single shred of data on this Hayashi Rin guy exists anywhere in the municipal registry.
Looks like I’ll have to travel to the Land of Ke to investigate in person.”
Right at that second, Kuroko Shirai ambushed her from behind, wrapping her arms tightly around Mikoto’s torso: “What has my beloved Onee-sama lost in thought to the point of spacing out like this?”
Mikoto tapped the corner of the Diary resting on the desk, asking casually, “Kuroko, do you see anything sitting right here?”
“There’s nothing there at all, Onee-sama.
The desktop is spotless.”
“Were you trying to suggest that there’s a speck of dust on the table?”
Mikoto marveled inwardly at the fact that Kuroko was completely blind to the book’s presence.
She held unconditional trust in Kuroko Shirai.
Naturally, she parted her lips, fully intending to explain the circumstances surrounding the mysterious tome.
Yet the instant she began to speak, an overwhelming, primal terror gripped her entire soul.
It felt as though an omnipotent, invisible force had clamped down over her throat.
If she dared utter a single detail regarding the Diary’s contents, that terrifying presence would instantly erase her from existence.
A cold sweat broke out across Mikoto’s forehead.
Forcing a casual tone, she managed, “It’s nothing…
I just thought the desk looked a bit dusty and needed wiping down.”
“Also, Kuroko, could you help me submit an official leave request to the school administration?
I have personal business that requires me to travel to the Land of Ke, and it might take a week or two.
Please cover for me.”
“Understood, Onee-sama!
Has a troublesome situation arisen?
Kuroko shall accompany you as your faithful protector!”
…
Meanwhile, at another location.
Eri Kisaki and Yukiko Kudō were seated opposite each other in an upscale café.
A subtle, confident smirk played on Eri’s lips, and she was clearly in high spirits.
Her radiant mood stemmed from the fact that when she deliberately pulled out her Diary and laid it flat on the tabletop, Yukiko Kudō had not batted an eye, behaving as though the space were entirely empty.
When Eri extended an elegant, manicured finger toward the book, asking, “What is this right here?
Do you see a Diary?”
Yukiko had merely looked at her in mild confusion: “There’s nothing on the table!
Where would a Diary come from?”
“What has gotten into you today?
Did you really call me out here just to ask bizarre, nonsensical questions?”
Hearing Yukiko’s answer, Eri offered an imperial smile, radiating the undeniable grace of a reigning queen basking in absolute victory.
That smug expression grated heavily on Yukiko’s nerves, exuding the distinct condescension of a lifelong rival looking down from a position of absolute supremacy.
Yukiko could not stop the indignant thoughts from flooding her mind: ‘Why is this woman suddenly brimming with unearned confidence?
What delusional accomplishment makes her think she has bested me?’
She scrutinized Eri’s face.
In terms of raw facial beauty, Eri had no clear advantage over her.
Her gaze shifted downward.
In terms of figure and proportions, Eri held no ground over her either.
She evaluated Eri’s overall bearing and aura.
Her personal charisma was entirely on par with her own.
Reflecting on their respective career achievements over the years:
Their public milestones were evenly matched.
The more Yukiko analyzed it, the less sense it made, fueling her inner indignation: ‘Where does she get off acting so smug?
If we tally things up objectively, I am clearly the one ahead!’
‘My marriage with Yusaku is blissful and romantic, celebrated far and wide as an ideal, legendary partnership.’
‘Meanwhile, how many years have you and Kogoro spent living in mutual separation?’
‘On top of that, I gave birth to a brilliant son, while you raised a daughter.’
‘No matter what metric we use, my standing is clearly superior to yours!’
‘What on earth possessed this woman to summon me out here just to gloat without context?’
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