Afterward, Hair made his way down to the first-floor kitchen.
The trio who had been bustling about inside instantly went rigid the mont they saw him appear. They hurriedly set down whatever they were holding, standing there looking utterly lost.
Chloe and Lunor especially.
After all, having just witnessed with their own eyes how the normally high-and-mighty Guild Chairman Royman had groveled and scraped before this deity—that image was still seared into their minds.
"Alright."
Hair didn't pay any mind to their expressions, which looked as though they'd just seen a ghost. He simply gave a casual wave of his hand.
"Since you've more or less finished tidying up, you should head back early."
"Just rember to show up on ti tomorrow morning."
"Yes! Kami-sama!"
At those words, all three bowed in perfect unison and made their exit.
With that, as the heavy front door swung shut once more, the hall—which had only just been bustling with activity—returned to silence.
Only the morning sunlight streaming through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows remained, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.
Hair stood in place, watching the three figures flee as though their lives depended on it until they vanished from sight. A helpless expression surfaced on his face.
"That's all it took to scare them?"
"Am I really that terrifying?"
As expected—the distance between Gods and mortals wasn't sothing that could be erased by attitude alone.
He had clearly been holding back. One could even say he'd been quite amiable and approachable. Yet after Royman's performance served as a cautionary example, they were still frightened off.
Fortunately, Hair didn't dwell on it. He shrugged, withdrew his gaze, and turned around. His eyes casually swept over the black tal briefcase Royman had left behind.
That thing.
"I'll just leave it here for now."
"It's not as if anyone would dare touch it."
Hair felt no urgency to examine the intelligence inside. After all, those secrets concerning the Dungeon's deep floors were rely tools for verifying hypotheses. There was no rush.
"Now then..."
The energetic, perpetually chattering children of his household had all gone off to the Dungeon to vent their excess energy. Hestia was upstairs, sound asleep.
The entire mansion was, for once, blissfully quiet.
This undisturbed window of ti was nothing short of a godsend.
Hair stretched, loosening up his body. Then he walked to the most open area in the center of the hall.
"Perfect."
"Ti to get down to business."
And so—
Hair's gaze sharpened slightly. The lazy, casual air about him vanished in an instant, reined in completely.
A thought flickered through his mind.
The system interface unfurled before him.
"System."
Hair issued the command in his mind.
"Lock onto world coordinates: G-404."
"Since the second world selected is this one..."
"Then let go take a look first."
[Command confird.]
Accompanied by the system's notification chi—
[Retrieving world coordinates...]
[World coordinates locked... G-404 — Black Bullet]
[Anchor point confird: Tokyo Area.]
[Detected that Host's Divine Power is in a sealed state...]
[Cross-dinsional transfer will consu system reserve energy...]
[Energy charging...]
[Transfer channel construction ready.]
[Countdown: 3... 2... 1...]
As the system countdown reached zero—
The space around Hair began to warp and fold.
A pitch-black vortex, as though leading to another dinsion entirely, slowly took shape and swallowed Hair's figure in an instant.
World G-404.
—Black Bullet.
The tiline fast-forwarded. Dusk had already settled.
Tokyo Area.
Inside an abandoned dojo.
"Haaah—!!!"
A fierce battle cry, accompanied by the sharp whistle of sothing slicing through the air, erupted without warning.
What followed was a flash of blade-light, swift as lightning.
That gleam was no ordinary silver-white. Instead, it carried a heart-stopping pitch-black quality, as though it could devour even the surrounding light itself.
"Shwing——!!!"
The blade-light flashed past.
In the center of the dojo, a heap of scrapped tal blocks stacked half as tall as a person was cleaved clean through in that single instant!
The cut was smooth as a mirror. There wasn't even a single burr.
The upper half of the tal hung suspended for half a second, as though it had only just realized what happened, before slowly sliding off and crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Hah... hah..."
Tendou Kisara held her post-strike stance, chest heaving violently.
Fine beads of sweat had already traced down her temples and along her cheeks, dripping onto the floor.
Her black Miwa Girls' Academy sailor uniform was slightly disheveled from the intensity of her movents. The pure black fabric was broken only by the vivid crimson ribbon at her chest—much like Tendou Kisara's own heart at this mont.
Like a fla of vengeance burning in the darkness, it was dazzlingly bright.
Click.
The crisp sound of the sword guard eting the scabbard rang out.
Tendou Kisara let out a long breath of stale air. She lowered her gaze to her own hands.
Hands that should have belonged to a sheltered young lady of the Tendou household—hands that had never known a day of rough labor—were now lined with thin calluses from years of gripping a blade.
But at this mont, what blazed in Tendou Kisara's eyes was the unmistakable excitent of soone who had finally glimpsed the dawn.
"I did it..."
"This strike..."
"I've finally touched that realm."
—A realm that transcended the mundane. One capable of cleaving steel, and even severing the heads of her enemies!
Tendou Kisara looked at the cursed blade in her hand—the one called [Killing Sword: Yukikage]—and the corners of her mouth curved upward in a wild, unrestrained arc.
She couldn't yet claim to have fully mastered it. There was still a long road ahead before she could reach the level of that man—Tendou Kikunojou.
But just now, in that single instant—
She had unmistakably seized the feeling.
The embryonic form of what was called [Tendou Sword-Drawing Art: Zero Style]!
It belonged solely to her.
—An absolute killing technique, born for the sake of revenge!
"As long as I have this..."
"As long as I can fully master this move..."
"I can fight my way back!"
"Every last one of those murderers who killed my parents... every piece of human garbage in the Tendou family who stole everything from ... I'll send them all straight to hell!"
In that mont, Tendou Kisara felt the heart inside her chest—a heart long since scorched dry by the flas of vengeance—begin to pound violently once more.
She was desperate to share this joy with soone.
And in this entire world, there was only one person she could share this feeling with unreservedly. Only one person who could understand her obsession.
That guy.
The one who was clumsy, who was poor, who was perhaps too much of a bleeding heart for his own good—but who had always stayed by her side. Her childhood friend.
—Satomi Rentarou.
With that thought, Tendou Kisara didn't even bother changing her clothes. She didn't even wipe the sweat still clinging to her face. She spun on her heel and sprinted out of the dojo, heading straight for the front office.
"Rentarou!"
Before she'd even made it through the door, her voice had already carried inside.
It was charged with a rare excitent.
"Are you there?!"
"Co out!"
"I have great news to tell you!"
"Just now, I—"
However.
When Tendou Kisara shoved open the rickety wooden door of the office and saw the scene within—
Her words died in her throat.
There, in the office.
The black-haired boy who should have been sitting at his desk processing paperwork, or perhaps fretting over the rent—Satomi Rentarou.
He was standing with his back to her, facing the window.
Hearing the commotion, Satomi Rentarou turned around.
On that still-youthful face, there was none of the smile Tendou Kisara had expected to find. Instead, there was only a complex expression, laced with obvious fatigue.
"Kisara-nee."
Satomi Rentarou looked at the breathless Tendou Kisara who had just burst through the door. His gaze lingered for a second on her still-trembling hand, and on the cursed blade that never left her side.
Then—
He let out a soft sigh.
"What's got you so excited?"
"Don't tell it's about that technique you've been going on about, Kisara-nee?"
It was phrased as a question. But his tone held no anticipation whatsoever.
It was like a bucket of ice-cold water, dumped straight over her head.
The smile on Tendou Kisara's face visibly stiffened. The fla in her heart was doused by more than half.
Even so, she swallowed that discomfort and strode forward, her eyes blazing as she looked at Satomi Rentarou.
"That's right!"
"Rentarou! I can feel it!"
"Just give a little more ti, and I can perfect this technique!"
"I'll have the power to truly fight back against those monsters!"
"And not just the Gastrea!"
"The Tendou family too!"
"I can finally see the hope of revenge!"
"Isn't that worth celebrating?!"
Tendou Kisara stepped forward again, reaching to grab Satomi Rentarou's shoulders.
"Now, as long as Rentarou gets stronger too, we can join forces—"
"We can definitely—"
"Kisara-nee."
The very next second—Satomi Rentarou actually stepped half a pace backward, avoiding Tendou Kisara's hand entirely, cutting her off mid-sentence.
"Enough."
"Huh?"
Tendou Kisara froze.
Her hand hung suspended in midair, motionless.
As though an invisible giant hand had suddenly seized her by the throat.
Tendou Kisara stared at this boy she knew better than anyone, disbelief written across her face.
"What did you... just say?"
"I said enough."
Satomi Rentarou lowered his head, averting his gaze from Tendou Kisara's searing stare. He turned to look out the window at the street beyond.
"Stop obsessing over that hatred, Kisara-nee."
"The Tendou family is a colossus."
"It's not sothing the two of us alone can topple."
"And even if you really do master so technique—even if you really do kill every last person in the Tendou family—"
"What then?"
"Your aunt and uncle won't co back to life because of your revenge."
"Your kidneys won't grow back."
"Your body won't get better because of it."
"On the contrary—it'll only drag you deeper, make you more extre, more and more unlike yourself."
Having said this, Satomi Rentarou paused. He turned his head, his complex gaze settling on Tendou Kisara once more.
"Kisara-nee."
"Can a skill honed solely for the purpose of killing people really bring happiness?"
"Give it up."
"Whether it's the revenge, or that swordsmanship that only hurts yourself."
"That endless cycle of vendetta, and that sword art that does nothing but destroy you from within."
"We... should look forward."
"When does an eye for an eye ever end?"
"Why can't you just let go of all that hatred and live a normal life?"
Silence.
Deathly silence.
Inside the cramped office, the air seed to have solidified entirely.
Tendou Kisara simply stood there.
Her black sailor uniform made the color draining from her face all the more conspicuous.
She stared fixedly at Satomi Rentarou. As if she were seeing this person for the very first ti.
The light in her eyes faded, point by point, until all that remained was a sheet of cold, dead ash.
"Give up?"
"A normal life?"
After a long while, Tendou Kisara tugged at the corner of her mouth. A short, cold laugh escaped her.
"Are you joking?"
In that mont, the suppressed fury finally erupted.
"My parents died right in front of ! Have you forgotten what that looked like?!"
"My kidneys are gone! You lost a hand and a leg! Turned into... this!"
"And now you're telling ... to give up?"
"Those were my parents, Rentarou!"
"How... how can you say sothing like that?!"
By the end, Tendou Kisara's voice was trembling.
It was the agony of being stabbed in the back by the person she trusted most.
She had always believed that even if the entire world opposed her—even if the entire world called her a lunatic, a demon—at the very least, Satomi Rentarou would stand on her side.
Would support her unconditionally.
And yet...
Even he...
"I'm tired, Kisara-nee."
Satomi Rentarou's voice now carried a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.
"This revenge with no end in sight... it's just too exhausting."
"And besides—"
"I've already decided."
"I've officially passed the Civil Security Officer exam."
"IISO is about to assign a starter Initiator."
"I hear she's a good kid."
"From now on..."
"I'll probably need to put most of my energy into that."
Having said his piece, Satomi Rentarou lowered his head. From his pocket, he produced a crumpled docunt—one that had clearly been clutched and worried over for a long ti—and placed it on the desk.
Tendou Kisara stared at that thin sheet of paper lying on the desk.
In that mont, she felt like a joke.
While she had been over here—for the sake of revenge, for the sake of both their futures—pushing her broken body to its absolute limit, grinding away at her swordsmanship day and night without rest...
"For the money..."
Tendou Kisara murmured under her breath, and a wave of absurdity crashed over her.
"Of course."
"After all, the current has nothing to offer you besides this hatred."
"I can't even pay my share of the rent..."
"I'm just dead weight, aren't I..."
"Kisara-nee, that's not what I—"
Satomi Rentarou seed to sense sothing deeply wrong in Tendou Kisara's tone and tried to explain.
But—
"Get out."
Tendou Kisara's head snapped up. That slender hand pointed straight toward the front door.
In those long, narrow eyes—eyes that had always held a smile and occasionally a hint of girlish coyness whenever they looked at him—now there remained only a sheet of ice.
The eyes of soone who had gone mad.
"Kisara-nee—"
"Get out of my sight!"
"GET OUT!!!"
With that, Tendou Kisara snatched up the docunt folder beside her and hurled it at Satomi Rentarou with every ounce of strength in her body.
Crash——!
Papers exploded into the air, scattering like snowflakes, carving an unbridgeable chasm between the two of them.
Satomi Rentarou didn't dodge. He let the docunts strike him, then watched them slide weakly to the floor.
He looked at Tendou Kisara—on the verge of complete, hysterical collapse—and his lips moved, as though wanting to say sothing to salvage the situation.
But in the end, Satomi Rentarou said nothing.
He only gave Tendou Kisara one deep, lingering look. That gaze held countless shades of helplessness.
Then he turned around.
Pushed open the door.
And walked out.
BANG!
The door slamd shut with trendous force. The thunderous sound crashed against Tendou Kisara's chest like a physical blow.
Inside the empty office—
In that instant, the entire world seed to have been walled off.
Leaving only Tendou Kisara. Alone. Standing amidst the wreckage.
In the lingering echo of that door slamming shut, it was as if every last drop of strength had been drained from her body. Her once-straight fra crumpled in an instant.
She opened her mouth. Wanting to call after that retreating figure.
Wanting to say it was just a mont of impulse.
Wanting to say don't go.
But her throat felt stuffed with cotton. Not a single sound would co out.
And worse still—
"Ugh——!!!"
A violent, organ-rending agony suddenly erupted from Tendou Kisara's abdon.
Her body—stripped of functioning kidneys—had finally gone on strike after that extre emotional upheaval.
"Ngh..."
Tendou Kisara's body shuddered. Her legs gave out, and her knees hit the floor.
She doubled over in agony, the sword slipping from her hand with a sharp clang as it struck the ground. Both hands pressed desperately against her abdon, her entire body curling into a tight ball.
Cold sweat quickly soaked through her back. The black sailor uniform clung to her fra, tracing the outline of a slender body wracked with uncontrollable trembling.
Yes.
This was the price.
For the sake of revenge, she had forsaken her healthy kidneys. For the sake of this ultimate killing sword, she had overdrawn a body that was already broken beyond repair.
Now... the bill had co due.
"Hah... hah..."
Tendou Kisara gasped for each ragged breath, every inhale feeling like swallowing shards of glass.
Her vision began to blur. Consciousness scattered amid the waves of agony.
She reached out with one trembling hand toward the direction of the door. Her fingertips quivered.
Instinctively—even in her most vulnerable mont—Tendou Kisara still called out that na.
But now, the office was completely empty.
Only the sunset streaming through the window remained, casting a long, solitary shadow.
Despair. Like a rising tide, it surged in and swallowed Tendou Kisara whole.
At last, two lines of clear tears fell unbidden from those phoenix eyes—eyes that remained defiant even in the depths of suffering.
They struck the floorboards, splashing into tiny droplets.
"Anyone..."
"Save ..."
"I can't die yet..."
Tendou Kisara's consciousness was about to sink into darkness.
It was at that very mont.
Hummm—
Inside the office, which had been completely empty just a second ago—
Space suddenly rippled with strange distortions.
A pitch-black vortex materialized out of thin air.
Then—
A slender, powerful hand reached out from the vortex.
And from within it stepped a young man with black hair and black eyes, handso as a descending god.
—It was none other than Hair, having crossed the boundary between worlds.
However.
The mont Hair's feet touched the ground—before he even had a chance to take in his surroundings—his gaze was imdiately drawn to the black-clad figure crumpled on the floor.
[High-Potential Candidate]
[NO. 1]
[Tendou Kisara]
____
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