Ranpo seemed perplexed. “…What?”
“A skill user,” repeated Fukuzawa. Even he still wasn’t exactly sure what he was saying. “The reason you’re special is because you’re a skill user. Your skill awakened when your parents died. That’s…that’s precisely it.”
“A skill user…? Why?”
Ranpo’s eyes darted about in abject confusion. This was essentially the first time Fukuzawa had experienced something like this in his life. More precisely—he had never spoken so impulsively.
“It’s all because of your skill. You can see the truth with nothing more than a simple glance. They spoke about it in the play, right? There are people in this world who possess supernatural abilities. And skills don’t always make the possessor happy. Yours is the reason why you’re in pain and why everyone seems like a monster.”
“…???” Ranpo was at a loss. He blinked in silent confusion.
“You have to control your skill.”
Fukuzawa gave thanks to his daily training. He had no idea what he was saying, but his heart was racing, and cold sweat dripped from his palms. Nevertheless, his expression was completely still. It was as if he were reading the newspaper just as he always did. Any hesitation in a fight with real swords could lead to death. The enemy must never get the chance to observe your eyes and predict your next move. That was why Fukuzawa was naturally able to keep a straight face, even if he was feeling anguished or terrified. Put simply, Fukuzawa was playing cool.
“You are a skill user, therefore you’re special. To prove that, I’ll teach you how to control that skill. You’ll be able to freely utilize it with the help of a certain item. And with that item, you will l
earn how to control this skill that brings you such pain.”
“…?? A ‘certain item’? Like what…?”
Leaning forward, Ranpo tilted his head to the side.
I haven’t thought that far yet.
Fukuzawa’s eyes wandered around the room in search of a hint.
Anything will do. Is there nothing here? There has to be something that can make Ranpo focus. Something…
His hand lightly brushed against his pocket.
That’s it.
“This.” Fukuzawa whipped something out of his pocket.
“What the…? Glasses?”
“It was a gift given to me by a well-known noble in Kyoto.”
I lied. It was dead stock from the neighborhood general store.
“When you wear these, your skill will be activated, and you will be able to immediately see the truth. On the other hand, when you’re not wearing them, you will no longer care about how foolish those around you are. Here, they’re yours.”
“…Okay…” Ranpo accepted the black-framed glasses as if he had no idea what was going on. “These look like ordinary cheap glasses to me…”
He’s got that right.
“Of course they would, since you didn’t even know that skills existed until earlier today.” Fukuzawa quietly took in a deep breath.
“Uh-huh… So do I put them on?”
Ranpo unfolded the temples, then lowered his head and started to put on the glasses when—
“Haaah!”
—Fukuzawa let out a battle cry, and Ranpo immediately lost consciousness. It was an energy blast, as before, but the scale and directionality were different this time. It was a chi attack normally used in life-and-death battles, but Fukuzawa had utilized it to knock Ranpo out. Even a highly trained martial artist’s head would go blank and lose control of their body in the face of such an attack, so a teenager like Ranpo stood no chance.
Ranpo was unconscious while still holding the glasses to his face. He collapsed into his chair, and the impact caused the glasses to completely latch around his ears.