“We’ll set the trap here,” Kiroumaru said.
I looked where he pointed and saw a hole in the rock three or four meters across.
“This was probably a tunnel made a thousand years ago. The good thing is that it goes on without branching for a kilometer and a half before exiting aboveground.”
“Why is that good? We’ll only have one way to escape,” Satoru said, grimacing in pain.
“It’s easier to calculate their distance to us when there’s only one route they can take. But there are enough complicated curves throughout the tunnel that we can try to stay ahead and out of sight.”
His remaining green eye glinted unpleasantly from his mud-covered face. Rain and sweat were starting to wash off muck.
“Still, although it doesn’t branch, there are still a number of small paths leading off from it. They are all dead ends though, so make sure not to go down any of them.”
“How do we tell the paths apart from the main tunnel?” I asked uneasily.
“They look completely different. They’re much narrower than the tunnel and are not rounded. You won’t get lost as long as you follow the main tunnel.”
His tone of voice suggested that he found it quite pitiful that I had no sense of direction.
“…but is this really the best place to do it?” Satoru asked.
“For our purposes, this is the only place,” Kiroumaru said confidently. “This wind is our greatest advantage.”
There was a breeze coming from up ahead. For some unknown reason, there were constant breezes criss-crossing through underground Tokyo, creating complicated airstreams.
We would be heading straight into the wind and the fiend would be downwind from us. That way, when we broke open the psychobuster, only the fiend would be infected.