Yuki ate his lunch with steady, deliberate haste, emptying his bento container far quicker than his usual casual pace while the device in his pocket continued its persistent, low vibrations.
Sitting at a desk away, Kawai Ritsu paused.
She looked up from her lunch bag, her large eyes blinking through her bangs as she took notice of his unusual rush.
“Um… Sato-kun?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.
“Is everything alright? You are eating rather quickly today.”
Gulp.
Yuki swallowed his final bite, smoothly slid the plastic lid back onto his container, and packed his empty bento into his school bag in one fluid motion.
He looked over at her, forcing a perfectly normal, reassuring grin onto his face.
“Nature’s call, Kawai-san!” he answered back smoothly, offering a brief wave.
“My stomach has been acting up since the morning lecture.”
Before she could process his words or ask any further questions, Yuki slid out of his chair and bolted through the classroom door, vanishing into the crowded hallway.
The moment he was clear of his classmates’ line of sight, he took his smartphone from his uniform pocket and checked the screen.
Looking at the time, he had exactly twenty-five minutes left before the afternoon class bell rang and forced everyone back to their seats.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, keeping his hand on it as he walked at a remarkably fast, disciplined pace down the corridors.
He bypassed the bustling groups of students heading toward the cafeteria, his footsteps light but urgent as he moved from the second-year wing down toward the first-year territory.
According to the radar on the app, the white marks are inside the Class 1-4 area.
He maintained a casual, steady stride along the hallway, pretending to just be another student stretching his legs, while his sharp eyes meticulously cataloged every detail inside the room.
As he glided past the first open doorway, his gaze swept across the front rows of desks.
He kept moving, tracking his target area by peering through the large interior hallway windows that lined the classroom’s boundary.
Finally, he reached the second open rear door, lingering for a fraction of a second to get a complete, unobstructed look at the back section of the room where the tracking blips were placed.
Inside, the environment looked entirely ordinary.
A group of first-year boys was laughing over a handheld gaming console, and a few girls were tidying up their desks.
Right in the center of the pulsing radar grid, Honda Tohru was smiling warmly, though her expression was strained as she frantically waved her hands in an attempt to play peacemaker.
Standing right in front of her desk were two male students, completely locked in a fierce, escalating argument that threatened to shatter the room’s peaceful atmosphere.
One of them was a remarkably elegant young man with sleek, silver-gray hair that framed his strikingly handsome, refined features.
He stood with an effortless, aristocratic poise, his cool violet eyes narrowing with deep disdain.
The other was a fiery, athletic youth with vibrant orange hair and a fiercely sharp gaze, his shoulders tense and his fists tightly clenched as he leaned forward aggressively, his entire posture radiating an explosive, unbridled temper.
“Don’t get cocky, you damn prince!” the orange-haired teen snarled, his voice a harsh, angry bark that drew nervous glances from the surrounding students.
“Must you always be so loud and incredibly crude?” the silver-haired boy replied smoothly, his tone dripping with an icy, calm mockery that only served to fuel the other’s rage.
“Your complete lack of decorum is honestly exhausting.”
“Please, you two! Calm down, let’s not fight in the classroom!” Tohru pleaded verbally, her voice frantic as she stepped between them, her wide, worried eyes darting back and forth in a desperate bid to prevent a physical brawl.
Standing out in the hallway, Yuki subtly looked down at his phone screen.
The two white dots on his radar were pulsing, pinpointing the exact location of the silver-haired and the orange-haired youth.
The system logs showed that the localized reality fluctuations weren’t coming from an object or a curse on the building.
The two teenagers themselves were the literal anomaly.
Yuki stood outside the door for a few more seconds, his eyes memorizing the distinct features of the silver-haired boy and the orange-haired youth.
He glanced down at the digital clock on his screen.
With only a few minutes left before the afternoon lecture, he pocketed his smartphone, turned around, and began walking back toward his own classroom at a measured, quiet pace.
As his boots clicked softly against the corridor floor, the immediate thrill of discovery evaporated, and a sudden, freezing thought hit him right in the chest.
His initial instinct was purely administrative.
I’ll just track them, he thought, his fingers lightly brushing the smartphone in his uniform pocket.
I can use the radar function to follow their movements from a distance, map their daily routines, and figure out when they are isolated from civilians.
Then, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Yuki stared blankly at the empty hallway wall ahead of him, his breath hitching as the absolute, crushing weight of reality finally crashed down on his intellect.
echoed ruthlessly inside his head.
How the hell was he actually going to contain them?
He stood completely frozen, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.
He was O5-1, the Reincarnator.
He had successfully summoned twelve of the brilliant, dangerous minds across the globe and bound their souls to a cosmic boardroom.
He had given them indestructible hardware and a grand manifesto.
But as he stood in the middle of a regular Japanese public high school, reality hit him like a physical blow.
He had absolutely nothing.
He didn’t have a secure facility.
He didn’t have reinforced concrete containment cells or localized reality anchors to suppress those Hume spikes.
Heck, he didn’t even have a single subordinate, an extraction agent, or a highly trained Mobile Task Force (MTF) squad standing by to execute a tactical breach.
If those two first years suddenly mutated, transformed, or tore a hole in the local fabric of space right next to Tohru, what was he supposed to do?
Tackle them with his school bag?
Throw them in a cleaning locker?
Realizing he was lingering in the middle of the corridor and drawing curious glances from passing students, Yuki forced his legs to move.
He continued walking toward his classroom, his boots striking the floor in a rhythmic thud as his mind raced frantically to solve the logistical nightmare.
I’m an Overseer with an absolute monopoly on data, but zero boots on the ground, Yuki thought, his teeth gritting as he turned the corner into his hallway.
What are the others doing right now?
Aside from O5-13 The God of Wisdom, whom he had correctly deduced to be Iwanaga Kotoko and the careless Shinomiya princess, he didn’t know the true identities of the other silhouettes sitting at his table yet, nor did he know their exact real-world capabilities.
He could only guess based on their grandiose titles.
For all he knew, The Legendary Hitman might have an entire underworld syndicate at his beck and call, The Eccentric Inventor could be building automated containment units in a private high-tech lab, and Best Hacker could probably gaslight entire governments to hide a security breach.
Iwanaga Kotoko herself had a whole hidden network of supernatural yokai under her thumb.
But here in Gifu Prefecture…
He had nothing.
He couldn’t build reinforced containment cells out of high school textbooks or clear a threat using a student ID.
He slid back into his classroom just as the loud, electronic chime of the afternoon bell began to ring, signaling the start of the next lecture.
He sank into his desk, his face slightly pale.
Kawai Ritsu offered him a quiet, polite nod from her chair, but Yuki barely registered it.
His focus was entirely locked on the terrifying logistical void staring back at him from his pocket.
He needed to figure out how to build the Foundation’s physical teeth, and he had to do it before the anomalies right down the hall decided to break reality.
…
Yuki leaned back against his chair, his mechanical pencil moving across his notebook to mimic the actions of a diligent student, while his mind remained entirely submerged in the dark logistics of the Foundation.
With his author royalties completely tied up in supporting the orphanage, he was forced to find another way.
He couldn’t buy a facility, and he couldn’t hire security.
Hiding his phone beneath the edge of his wooden desk, he secretly booted up the custom dashboard to dig deeper into the system’s infrastructure, desperately searching for anything he might have overlooked that could help him navigate his current physical limitations.
He tapped back into the historical data logs of the global tracking network, his eyes scrolling down past the newly minted containment files until he hit the direct messaging history from earlier.
He zoomed in on the file O5-6 Twilight had questioned him about, the vanishing psionic signal in Western Europe.
Yuki’s eyes widened slightly as he realized the text interface had completely shifted.
The system had finalized its background analysis, updating the telemetry with cold, absolute precision.
___
DESIGNATION: SCP-____ (Anya Forger)
OBJECT CLASS: PENDING
LOCATION: Berlin, Germany
DESCRIPTION:
SCP-____ is a human female of approximately 4 to 6 years of age, measuring 99.5cm in height, characterized by distinctive light-pink hair and a pair of unusual, comical black hair ornaments worn over her ears.
The subject possesses an active, passive telepathic capability.
This anomalous ability operates on a variable localized radius, continuously and automatically pulling the short-term cognitive wavelengths, hidden intents, and direct thought patterns of nearby human subjects directly into her conscious awareness. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
___
After reading the SCP name, a vivid image of a smug, wide-eyed, pink-haired little girl flashing a notoriously mischievous expression materialized instantly in his mind.
Like a grand puzzle violently snapping its pieces into place, the truth hit him.
“05-6 Twilight… is Loid Forger,” Yuki muttered under his breath.
But the thrill of solving the identity of the world’s greatest spy was immediately crushed by a massive, agonizing conflict of interest.
According to standard SCP Foundation doctrine, Anya Forger was a humanoid anomaly.
She needed to be actively contained, transferred to a secure research sector, and locked up inside a sterile laboratory environment for continuous, invasive scientific mapping of her psionic wavelengths.
But would Loid Forger ever hand his adopted daughter over for organization experimentation?
Would Yor Forger, a lethal underworld assassin, allow a shadowy organization to lock her child in a cage?
Absolutely not.
Trying to enforce standard containment would turn one of his most competent O5 council members into the Foundation’s most dangerous enemies.
Yuki’s thoughts began to spiral into a hyper-speed panic.
And it didn’t just stop at Berlin.
Now that the floodgates of his memory were completely unlatched, his mind violently pivoted toward the far end of the council table.
O5-13 The God of Wisdom, Kotoko Iwanaga.
She actively commanded an entire invisible network of supernatural yokai, spirits, and folklore creatures as her personal retainers and informants.
By strict Foundation definitions, every single one of those spectral entities was a sentient, unregistered anomaly.
No wonder my phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since this morning, Yuki thought, his chest tightening as a cold sweat broke out over his uniform shirt.
Completely overwhelmed by the sheer, absurd weight of the logistical nightmare, Yuki brought his hands up to his face, aggressively scratching his messy hair as a heavy, profoundly exhausted sigh escaped his lips.
He slumped low in his desk, slouching forward while continuously rubbing his temples and pacing his fingers erratically across the wooden surface, looking exactly like a man undergoing a massive psychological breakdown.
The sudden, dead silence of the room finally penetrated his frantic thoughts.
Yuki stopped moving, slowly lowering his hands from his face.
He blinked, looking up from his desk, only to find the entire classroom completely frozen.
The teacher had stopped writing on the blackboard, chalk hovering in mid-air, while every single student was staring directly at him with wide, completely bewildered eyes.
Trapped in his own head, he had been visibly groaning, mumbling classified anxieties, and performing utterly bizarre, frantic physical actions right in the middle of a quiet afternoon grammar lecture.
***
Author’s note:
Ok…
so our MC is having some ‘slight’ problem…
Extra information about his notifications…
He gets all the notifications from the other members and the global one…
But the others only get what’s assigned to them, and the ones they found are not shared with other members…
Hmmm…
I think that’s good enough…
Did I miss something in the previous chapters?…
I don’t know?…
Now that I think about it…
It hasn’t been 24 hours since he got the app…
And we are already at chapter 19…
Oh, this might go for the long run…
Hehe…
^^ fuck…