Chapter 154: The Shinjuku District Mass Gender-Swap Incident
Two days later, Kamihara Shinji held a picture in his hand. It depicted an adorable sprite, cleverly formed by intertwining the blue ♂ and pink ♀ symbols into a cute, whimsical creature. He had to admit, the sprite was charming, and the designer’s ingenuity in crafting it from just two symbols was impressive. He’d even questioned the designer—a slightly effeminate man who confessed to longing to be a girl since middle school, nearly undergoing gender reassignment surgery before age tempered his impulse.
Kamihara set the picture down and turned to his computer, where a game titled Fantasy Dream Dragon was open. It was a 2.5D RPG with a cute, anime-inspired aesthetic. His character stood by the gender-swap pool, now deserted. He’d ordered the game company to temporarily disable the pool’s function. Though the gender-swap sprite had vanished, the pool still held transformative power.
Tohsaka, now acting as Kamihara’s assistant, felt a pang of shame. He should have thought to take such measures sooner. His oversight meant the Gender-Swapper’s influence had spread further than necessary.
“What’s the situation now?” Kamihara asked.
“With the Metropolitan Police’s help, we’ve brought back many swapped individuals over the past two days,” Tohsaka replied, grateful to be learning from Kamihara’s investigative expertise.
Kamihara nodded slightly. “Any unusual cases among them?”
“Unusual?” Tohsaka echoed.
“Yes,” Kamihara said, his gaze steady. “Like someone whose charm skyrocketed post-swap.”
“Like you?” Tohsaka blurted, then quickly added, “No, most are just ordinary swaps.”
The police had been rounding up swapped individuals since the day before, filling the isolation rooms and forcing the department to repurpose more spaces. Twenty people crammed into each large room. Initially, some protested, but threats of force—and the realization that so many others shared their fate—silenced them. Even civilians knew something was amiss, and they cooperated with the investigation.
Kamihara had learned from the game company that the sprite vanished nine days ago. Where had it gone? He had a hunch but needed confirmation.
Then, Aokiji called. “Still not back to normal?” His tone was grave. “The Special Division just issued a warning: monitors should avoid skin contact with anyone.”
“What happened?”
“A mass gender-swap incident in Shinjuku District,” Aokiji said, noting Kamihara’s feminine voice. “From the reports, it’s similar to your case. The Division was about to send someone, but…”
“No need,” Kamihara interrupted, exasperated. “I’m already on it. I’ve got leads. If I need backup, I’ll report to the Division.”
“You’ve taken the initiative?”
“Of course! I’m not sitting around, trusting others to fix this.”
“Got it,” Aokiji chuckled. “I’ll inform the Division. Akane was eyeing this case.”
“What’s he meddling for?”
“That pervert wants to turn female,” Aokiji said, half-joking, half-serious.
Kamihara was speechless. He’d thought Akane was kidding, but apparently not. “Tell him to stay away from me.”
“Roger that,” Aokiji said, turning serious. “But wrap this up fast. It’s a minor anomaly, low risk, but it’ll disrupt society.”
“I know,” Kamihara replied coolly. “The Division should still gather the swapped individuals to prevent further spread.”
He knew, however, that Tohsaka’s early missteps made containment tricky. Japan’s small size and reliance on trains—especially in summer—made the anomaly’s spread alarmingly efficient.
“We’re on it,” Aokiji assured, sharing Kamihara’s concern.
After hanging up, Kamihara instructed Tohsaka, “Have the police isolate everyone who swapped nine days ago, then question them about any odd post-swap experiences.”
“Understood.”
The sprite had vanished nine days prior, likely tied to one of the swapped individuals. Why else would it leave the game? With no deaths, its rule was incomplete, so its disappearance was probably rule-driven.
Investigating this anomaly felt almost relaxing compared to his past cases. The Gender-Swapper’s rules were straightforward—he just needed to confirm his theory. Touching his sunglasses, he smiled wryly.
Half a day later, the police reported no useful intel from the nine-day swaps. Kamihara frowned. The anomaly’s disappearance should relate to a unique swap—likely someone exceptionally attractive post-transformation.
“Bring me the most handsome and beautiful among those who swapped nine days ago,” he ordered. “I’ll question them myself.”
Tohsaka complied, and soon, ten swapped individuals—five men, five women—stood before Kamihara. Even with sunglasses, his presence captivated them. “Like you, I’ve been swapped,” he said. “I’m sure you want to revert. Answer my questions truthfully, and there might be a chance.”
One pretty girl blushed. “Little miss, I don’t want to change back. This is fine, right?”
Several others nodded, intrigued by their new genders, reluctant to revert. For them, experiencing both lives was thrilling, especially since most were now attractive.
Kamihara’s expression remained stony. “Sure, if you don’t mind staying in isolation forever.”
His words paled their faces.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter 155: Nagai’s Grim Gender-Swap Life
“Both of you, stay,” Kamihara said, pointing to the most handsome boy and the most alluring woman among the ten. The boy, with a sunny, masculine face, exuded quiet strength, answering only when prompted. Given the proportional beauty rule, he’d likely been a stunning girl pre-swap. Kamihara had observed that swaps reflected personality: a quiet, pretty girl became a soft-featured man. This boy, likely once a lively girl, now stayed mute—odd.
The woman, a sultry twenty-something, oozed charm, hinting at a playboy past. Police records confirmed her pre-swap promiscuity. Kamihara’s earlier questions yielded frustratingly mixed truths and lies. His spiritual pressure discerned deception, but the group’s evasiveness—emboldened by numbers and novelty—irked him. Most enjoyed their swaps, resisting reversion.
He’d isolated these two for their consistent dishonesty. The woman, in particular, had flirted shamelessly, testing his patience. Once the others left, Kamihara approached them, his tone icy. “I’ll ask questions. One lie, one strike.”
Tohsaka, handing him an iron rod, pitied the pair. Monitors were notoriously temperamental, and Kamihara, desperate to revert, wouldn’t hold back. He’d been gentle earlier, hoping for cooperation. Now, with just two, resistance meant pain.
“Sure,” the woman, Tani Yu, purred, winking. “A kiss per answer.”
A former sex worker, she’d continued post-swap, thrilled by dual-gender experiences. Arrested and isolated, she was instantly smitten by Kamihara, his aura an irresistible lure.
Kamihara’s laugh was cold. He swung the rod at her face. Thwack! Tani screamed, spitting blood and teeth, collapsing unconscious. It was his first face strike, but he’d pulled it—otherwise, she’d be dead.
“Drag her out,” he ordered.
Tohsaka, trembling, complied. “Your turn,” Kamihara said to the stunned boy, Nagai. “You both lied through every question. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but if you lie again, I won’t be merciful. If you want to live and enjoy life, think carefully and answer truthfully.”
Aokiji had mentioned the anomaly’s spread, his casual tone belying concern. Mass swaps could spark panic, toppling Japan in days. Summer trains were petri dishes for skin-contact contagion. Kamihara had delayed action, waiting for the police to gather the nine-day swaps. Now, with Nagai and Tani— the most attractive among them—he pressed forward.
Nagai shivered, eyes wide with fear. The goddess’s brutality—one strike to the face—left him shaken, the blood on the floor making his heart race. “A-ask,” he stammered.
“Did your charm surge post-swap nine days ago?”
“Y-yes…” Nagai admitted, though he’d denied it earlier.
“Tell me about any odd post-swap experiences.”
“Well…” Nagai glanced at Kamihara, cautious. “After swapping, I was upset, but things got weird.”
Kamihara gestured for him to continue.
Nagai spilled his story. Post-swap, he’d adjusted in two days, then noticed strangers’ stares—both men and women—unnaturally intense. Women’s gazes made sense, given his handsome form, but men’s too? Alarmed, he confided in his girlfriends, seeking advice.
Instead, they… assaulted him, imprisoning him. Kamihara’s gaze softened with pity. Even exceptional beauty shouldn’t drive sane people to such extremes. In the age of filters and makeup, stunning looks were commonplace, immunity built.
“Days later, my girlfriends all turned male,” Nagai said, eyes haunted. “They still tried to confine me, but suddenly, they snapped out of it.”
“Snapped out of it?”
“Yeah,” Nagai mused. “It was like they’d been charmed by me, but five days ago, they returned to normal.”
Five days ago? Kamihara’s heart skipped. That was when Hisaike infected him. He asked more questions, and Nagai answered honestly, the earlier strike casting a long shadow. He even thought Tani was dead.
“Thanks,” Kamihara said, rare kindness in his voice. “Go rest.”
“I… can leave?”
“Yes.”
“I have a small request.”
Seeing Nagai’s courage, Kamihara nodded. “Speak, as long as it’s not unreasonable.”
Nagai’s swapped days had been grim. “Can we exchange emails?”
Kamihara’s face turned to ice. He pointed at the door, wordlessly commanding Nagai to leave. As Nagai slunk out, dejected, Kamihara approached the mirror, removing his sunglasses. He stared into his clear, pool-like eyes.
So… are you nested in my eyes or my soul?
Recommended Light Novel: I, the Affable, Don’t Want to Bite the Dust
A lighthearted, comedic xianxia farming tale packed with elements. If you enjoy breezy reads, give it a look—it won’t disappoint!
(End of Chapter)
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