Ultraman cubs begin to wreak havoc.

"and you...."

"Lord Uub!! Ya!!"

Hong Kai wanted to ask Yuan Mao why he had looked at him with that kind of gaze just now, when a very excited shout came. Everyone looked up and saw a guy in a white suit with a bandage on his head being pushed in a wheelchair and rushing towards them.

"This is a cosmic being residing in a human body."

Subaru only glanced at him before recognizing Aizen Makoto's true form, but seeing his extremely fanatical state, he didn't immediately attack. He turned to Kai and whispered:

"Then I'll leave the rest to you, senior."

"Are you leaving now?"

Hong Kai instinctively tried to stop him, but then, realizing something, he looked at Gen Subaru and whispered:

"Have you found the whereabouts of that primordial creation?"

"To be precise, it is the spacetime energy fluctuation of this type of primordial creation, and I have already made a fairly good summary here."

As he spoke, Gen Subaru casually waved his hand, restoring the house that Misaki Saki had destroyed. Then, without giving anyone any chance to stop him, he disappeared into the void.

As Gen Subaru said, he had already grasped the pattern of tracking these Primal Messengers. After these two encounters, he realized that the Primal Creatures that were causing trouble must have separated from the same entity. Therefore, it was not difficult to track them down from this starting point.

This is.....

Soon, Subaru made a discovery, but the timing of this discovery made him raise an eyebrow. This particular timeline wasn't unfamiliar; it was the location of another Nexus. However, he hadn't expected that they too had fallen victim to the enemy's machinations. This timeline... had been altered to be completely incomprehensible...

On the other side, the photograph on the table belonged to a man. He had a long face, and intelligent eyes behind his glasses were intently focused on the camera. At first glance, he also appeared to have a healthy complexion. Even when told that he had disappeared just months after the photography session ended, it was hard to believe.

"This must be your father, Mr. Matsunaga Yoichiro."

"I can confirm," Jun Himeya said, and then Hazuki Matsunaga nodded. Jun Himeya then compared the photograph to the girl sitting upright in front of him.

Matsunaga Hazuki was clearly a "good child" who had always been loyal to her parents' instructions since childhood. Her father, who was over fifty and dressed in a neat and well-fitting jacket, was remarkably similar to her. How could her parents not love such an honest child? In the past month, the living room of the Matsunaga family had been theoretically kept tidy by her own two hands, but because she cleaned so meticulously, it felt somewhat distant.

After I put the photo back on the desktop, a business logbook was immediately placed next to it.

“My father was writing business logs before he went missing.”

"Oh. This is it."

Although he wasn't being begged by a charming woman with tears streaming down her face, the fact that the conversation was being pushed forward so calmly made him uneasy.

I started writing this log on January 4th of this year, the day I started work. Since then, the page has been divided into two sections, recording my daily tasks. However, only the start and end times are recorded. The next page is the same, and so is the following one.

"Ever since we transferred him from sales manager to a subcontracted factory through a transfer of ownership, he's been like this all along..."

Matsunaga Hazuki calmly told him the truth. The contents of the business log, recorded in neat regular script, would remain the same every day for a month.

Start work at 8:30.

I leave work at 17:30 PM.

There are only these two lines.

Jun Himeya works at a publishing house and is a registered employee of a magazine. Because he is also a company employee, he can imagine how painful it must be for Yoichiro Matsunaga, who can only go to work and come home repeatedly with nothing to do. In a company organization, there is no pressure of having no work and being unappreciated.

He read through the log page by page and began to find it unbearable.

"Your father was working in the sales department before, right?"

"I feel the company is also in a difficult position. Several people who worked with my father at the same time have resigned."

According to Matsunaga Hazuki, she seems to have transferred her emotions to the company that demoted her father. Based on the business card obtained, she herself works in the human resources department of a large corporation.

Jun Himeya turned to a page in the diary. There was still no record of any work, only the date had changed to February. The reason he had become interested in Hazuki Matsunaga's letter in his magazine submission was because of this diary, and the fact that Yoichiro Matsunaga had disappeared while still leaving his wallet at home.

Although there are many disappearances in Tokyo, it's quite unusual to find someone who hasn't taken any money, essential for survival. Furthermore, a little investigation uncovered a rumor about several other middle-aged or elderly people similar to him who vanished without a trace. This long-awaited discovery of potentially valuable material fueled my insatiable curiosity.

As soon as I turned the page, I found a record on that page.

"Eh?"

As if knowing what Jun Himeya had seen, Hazuki Matsunaga muttered, "That was two or three weeks before he disappeared; he started writing strange things."

"weird stuff?"

Without hesitation, he turned his gaze back to the business log. Matsunaga Yoichiro's meticulous regular script clearly indicated that this was the first time he had recorded something outside of work.

On February 16th, I ran into Eisuke Wakura, who had just resigned. I heard the legend from him.

"That legend?"

He assumed the answer was just ahead on the page, so he naturally turned the page. At that moment, an overwhelming sense of something foreign startled him so much that he wanted to curl up into a ball.

The page was covered with colorful circular marks, like a primary school student's doodles, arranged alongside various shapes such as pentagons and binary forms.

Below the strange notice that read "Delivery Person's Symbol" was an underline. That was the strange object that had intruded into Matsunaga Yoichiro's dull life.

"I figured someone from the magazine might know about this. So I..."

Jun Himeya was brought back to reality by Hazuki Matsunaga's words.

"Um, can I borrow this book for a while?"

"Well, please."

Unable to contain his interest, Jun Himeya flipped through the pages again. The records were no longer a blank canvas; wondrous figures danced across the page.

Matsunaga Yoichiro's handwritten notes, which began to change on February 16th, ended in less than a month. The last entry consisted of only one line.

—March 5th, went to the amusement park.

The following day, Jun Himeya visited the factory where Yoichiro Matsunaga had worked before his disappearance.

Dark, gloomy clouds crowded together in the sky, threatening rain, enveloping the towering buildings like a gloomy prison. The factory, located a twenty-minute walk from the station near the elevated highway, had not a single tree in sight. It's said that most visitors to Tokyo are surprised by the lack of greenery. Strolling along the road, which, despite being April, had not a single flower in bloom, the noise of a production line drifted from somewhere across the street.

"Bullying? That doesn't sound good if word gets out."

In the reception area of ​​the office, separated only by partitions, the young factory director, barely in his thirties, frowned.

"Even if we were to do that kind of thing, this gentleman is a guest from headquarters, so we must treat him well."

"That's not what I meant. Wouldn't it be incredibly painful for someone who sees work as the meaning of their life not to do work?"

Himeya Jun peered through the partition from his sofa at Matsunaga Yoichiro's seat. The man who had once risen to the position of sales manager was here, writing that tedious business log. The factory production line ran endlessly, its monotonous hum urging everyone on. At the top of the whiteboard on the office wall, next to Matsunaga Yoichiro's name, was a blank page. Perhaps, no scheduled work had ever been filled in there.

"Isn't it a matter of personal preference? If I encountered something like that, I'd be overjoyed."

The director began scanning the documents with his eyes, silently lamenting how busy he was.

"One last question. Are you familiar with Mr. Eisuke Wakura, who resigned before Minister Matsunaga Kazuo?"

Upon hearing Jun Himeya's question, the director, still holding the documents, dramatically turned his head.

"Wakura Eisuke? Oh, you mean the guy who switched jobs to work for a security company?"

The director raised his voice, as if trying to drown out the noise of the factory production line. It had only been a month since his disappearance, and Matsunaga Yoichiro's desk was already overflowing with files.

A month and a half before Jun Himeya visited Hazuki Matsunaga, Yoichiro Matsunaga was writing a business log in the factory office where he had been temporarily transferred.

February 15th, start work at 8:30.

He had no work to do today either. He had no idea that the meaning of those empty records would change starting tomorrow. If he had known then, he might not have disappeared for the next month.

Matsunaga Yoichiro closed his notebook, which was filled with too many blank spaces, and greeted the factory manager. His voice was mixed with the sounds of the production line running. He called out three times before the young site manager finally noticed him.

"No need for you to come; please leave it to the people on site."

The director beckoned to a female clerk, and although Matsunaga Yoichiro hadn't asked for tea, it was immediately placed on his desk. He took a sip and immediately found it tasteless.

The factory's vibrations constantly and faintly shook the office walls. Matsunaga Yoichiro had been transferred here for a month, and even in the quietest places, he could hear the slight noises. This sense of emptiness, of something slipping through his fingers, a feeling of valuelessness, prompted the former sales manager to sigh.

Once a promising young man on the path to success, Matsunaga Yoichiro should have been among the best of his peers. Now, all he does is write "Work?" and "Leave work?" in his daily log. Even so, he doesn't resign, not just because work is his means of survival, but also because he can't change his lifestyle from work to his interests or personal pursuits. For him, the only thing he can rely on for survival, the only thing he understands and can trust, is his work.

-- Same as before, I leave work at 17:30 PM.

Nothing was done today; that's all I wrote in my log. The factory was running, and the other employees were busy working, but Matsunaga Yoichiro would only be a hindrance if he were there. He greeted the supervisor, who was speaking rapidly and fluently on the phone, and glanced in his direction for a second.

The February sun sets very early. On the horizon, opposite the cold wind, the red glow of dusk is slowly igniting the bottom of the night. The aroma of curry wafts from the windows of the residential street, and he suddenly craves something warm.

Twenty years ago, when his wife was still alive, his daughter, Matsunaga Hazuki, would be overjoyed if he made curry for Mother's Day. Shiro, for the first time in a long time, went to the supermarket and decided to cook dinner. He peeled potatoes, stir-fried meat, and chopped onions and carrots, reminiscing about cooking during his student days. Then, as the kitchen filled with the nostalgic aroma of curry, the phone rang. It was Matsunaga Hazuki calling from work.

"I'm going to a farewell party for people retiring at the end of this month, so I'll be back late today."

It was only then that he realized that his once cheerful daughter was now a proper adult.

"Don't come back too late. It's very cold. Dad made curry."

"I'll eat it tomorrow morning. Sorry, I have to hang up now."

The phone call ended, and Matsunaga Yoichiro was left alone in his home, where the mortgage had just been paid off. He felt a deathly loneliness, so he sat down in front of the Buddhist altar. Before his wife's portrait, her pay slips were laid out.

Because, ever since Matsunaga Hazuki first started working and received his salary, he had been arriving here on payday with his hands clasped together. As if checking his child's contact list, he disdainfully opened the thin statement of accounts. Unbeknownst to him, Matsunaga Kazuro's salary had already been surpassed by his daughter.

—February 16th

The next morning, Matsunaga Yoichiro arrived at the company and, without even noting "start work at 8:30," closed his work log. A sudden sense of futility overwhelmed him, and he could no longer bear to look at the desert-like blank space.

He was a dispensable person. His daughter was also working, and they were financially self-sufficient. Even if he quit his job, neither the company nor his family would be in a difficult position. Although no one considered Matsunaga Yoichiro essential, he had no interest in finding someone who would consider him essential in the future.

Outside the window, the sky was clear and blue.

Matsunaga Yoichiro couldn't help but sigh deeply. This evening, he had made a promise with Wakura Eisuke, who had joined the company at the same time. The thought of these two equally exhausted men talking face-to-face about the glory days that could never be regained made him quite depressed.

However, after meeting Eisuke Wakura and returning home, he opened his business log, suppressed his excitement, and began to write notes with a ballpoint pen.

On February 16th, I ran into Eisuke Wakura, who had just resigned. I heard the legend from him.