Koji Hattori knelt on one knee, his right hand supporting his trembling body with the dimly glowing Blood Katana.
Blood poured from the wound on his left shoulder, his face as pale as paper, and fresh blood kept spilling from the corner of his mouth.
His breathing was so weak it was barely there.
Not far in front of him, Kenichiro Hattori stood in a daze.
The Kendo Sword in his hand had been snapped clean in half, the front half spinning through the air and embedding itself in the wall.
His right arm, from the forearm down, along with the broken blade, had been completely destroyed.
No blood gushed from the severed end—only scorched blackness, as if instantly carbonized by intense heat, with traces of crimson still dissipating at the edges.
The searing pain of his lost arm and the rapid drain of vitality finally extinguished his murderous rage.
The crimson in Kenichiro Hattori’s eyes faded swiftly, returning to human pupils.
They brimmed with pain and confusion—and, as his gaze fell upon his son kneeling weakly on the ground, a disbelief…regret and sorrow.
“Ko…ji….”
His lips trembled, releasing a barely audible syllable.
His body swayed.
Thud!
The once-mighty Dojo master collapsed face-first, falling heavily onto the cracked and bloodstained floor, losing consciousness completely.
The lingering murderous intent dissipated like the receding tide.
Deathly silence.
Only the whimper of the sea wind through the ruined Dojo doors, and Kokoro Hattori’s suppressed sobs.
The Police stared in shock at the scene.
The two members of the Dark Crow Unit reacted quickly, urging the medics waiting nearby to move in.
Jiang Jian Yue slowly lowered her raised hand, the ashen-gray flame at her fingertip silently extinguishing.
She walked to Koji Hattori’s side and looked down at him.
Koji Hattori struggled to lift his head, his face streaked with blood, sweat, and tears.
He looked at his unconscious father, then at the crumbling Blood Katana in his hand, and finally at Jiang Jian Yue’s cold face.
He forced a smile, trying to express “Mission Accomplished,” but the effort tore at his wounds, triggering a violent cough that brought up more blood.
“…La…dy….”
His voice was as faint as a mosquito: “I brought him… back…”
Jiang Jian Yue looked at him in silence for a few seconds, the bloody reflection of his battered but unbowed figure shining in her pupils.
Moonlight streamed through the shattered doorframe, slanting across the scarred wooden floor of the Dojo.
It also illuminated the dusty Shinai on the weapon rack in the corner and the giant, faded “Guardian” scroll hanging on the wall.
Koji Hattori gazed at the “Guardian” character, then back at his fallen father.
He gathered the last of his strength and, facing the Dojo that bore his childhood memories and now soaked in fresh blood, rasped:
“I… have returned.”
As the words fell, darkness swept over his vision, and he could no longer hold himself up.
He collapsed forward.
Jiang Jian Yue reached out, steadying his falling body, and gently laid him flat on the floor.
***
Night deepened, Police lights still flashing, painting the broken Christmas Eve of this seaside town.
The Dojo’s scars silently spoke of the madness and tragedy wrought by the Heart Worm.
Jiang Jian Yue stood at the edge of the coastal road, her ashen-gray hair fluttering in the sea breeze tinged with the scent of blood.
Meiguan made no sound in her mind.
“Heart Worms…are truly dangerous things.”
Jiang Jian Yue spoke in her mind, as if to herself, or to Meiguan.
Before this, whether learning that the monster Devourer G originated from mutated ordinary people or facing Ikeda Kou, Jiang Jian Yue had never truly felt the uncontrollability of the Heart Worm.
After all, as she had said before, Jiang Jian Yue was a rather indifferent person.
When things didn’t happen to her directly, she felt little.
But now, with Kenichiro Hattori’s Parasitic State side effect before her, the blood-soaked pain of someone close, Jiang Jian Yue was no longer a bystander.
No matter how cold her heart, it was finally stirred.
She even began to doubt the necessity of GSAC’s existence.
Deep down, she questioned herself—had she made GSAC too frivolous, its atmosphere too commercial and entertaining?
The Ability Users who could compete were lucky, unaffected by side effects.
But what about the unlucky ones?
Was their whole life wasted from the start?
Why had she ignored their pain and despair, dressing up GSAC as a grand festival?
Was it really necessary?
How did Masakazu Kinoshita feel when he was forced into a Devourer G by the Shock Core?
She didn’t know, but surely, it was utter despair.
He had done nothing wrong.
A student, at the prime of his youth… he hadn’t even started his life!
Confused thoughts swirled in Jiang Jian Yue’s mind.
She suddenly felt lost and sorrowful.
Everyone in this World possessed Heart Worms.
Anyone she knew could, like Kenichiro today, have their family and friends forced into deadly struggle, or die in agony…
Today it was Kenichiro.
Tomorrow?
Morita Aoya, Akimoto Miki, Shima-sensei, every employee in the apartment whose name she remembered, her caring homeroom teacher, even the black-haired class president whose name she couldn’t recall—could they be next?
Their families—could they be next?
Why was this damned World like this!?
“Not everyone is like you.”
Meiguan’s voice was softer than ever.
“Learn to be as cold as you once were. If such things are unavoidable, you have to face them.”
“Think of those living in war and famine. Was it their fault?”
“But someone always survives after the war, after the famine, don’t they?”
“When faced with something vast, being powerless is completely normal.”
Once, she enjoyed seeing the reactions of those crushed by greater forces.
Now… Jiang Jian Yue hated the naive self she once was.
She parted her lips—not echoing in her mind, but speaking in her first language:
“How can I destroy all the Heart Worms in the World?”
No stuttering, no choosing words—just spoken.
Even if her sentences crumbled, she would still say such things.
Meiguan did not answer—or rather, the lasting silence was her answer.
“I will create a World without Heart Worms.”
Jiang Jian Yue pinched a lock of her hair, blown astray by the sea wind, her tone calm.
“Even though an ordinary World still has famine and war, I have never doubted that one day, united humanity will overcome them.”
“The prerequisite is that humanity is not subjected to unknown and uncontrollable influence by ‘Heart Worms.’”
“Tell me, Meiguan, everything you know—”
“No.”
Jiang Jian Yue froze, then lowered her head, her eyes void of sorrow or joy.
“Do you realize how insane what you’re saying is?”
Meiguan’s voice carried a hint of anger.
“Idiot! You’re not that kind of person! After work, locking yourself in your room, playing games and doing nothing—that’s the real Jiang Jian Yue.”
Jiang Jian Yue shook her head slightly.
“You don’t understand me.”
“I do. You rely on Dawn Resources Group, have grown up privileged for years, your perspective has changed, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs—you’re after self-actualization now?”
“Want to save all humanity? Ridiculous! I’m telling you, you’re just blinded by Kenichiro’s case. Go home, take a bath, sleep, and you’ll be back to normal tomorrow!”
“Will you help me or not?”
“No!”
Meiguan stubbornly refused, then her tone softened.
“Living a peaceful life with that little pet isn’t bad either. Actually, I find him kind of cute now. Making those around you happy is enough, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this—for the happiness of those around me!”
Jiang Jian Yue snapped back, then asked, “Tell me, is Koji Hattori happy now?”
Meiguan couldn’t answer the obvious question.
“In the future, everyone I know, and their families, could be killed by Heart Worms. No amount of money can buy peace. Tell me! What should I do?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?!”
Bang!
The girl kicked a roadside post, snapping it in two.
Half the post flew onto the road, rolling with a crash.
She clenched her silver teeth, eyes red, her body trembling with emotion.
Meiguan fell silent again.
The raging sea wind could not dispel the anger in the girl’s heart at this *World.
At last, Meiguan spoke, breaking the silence.
“Your power, and that of Dawn Resources Group, aren’t enough to support your goal. Talk again when the time comes.”
Jiang Jian Yue did not reply.
She pressed both hands to her face, distorted by emotion.
After a long time, she calmed somewhat.
She didn’t directly ask Meiguan for help, but asked,
“In the real World, does investigating Chongzhong help my goal?”
“Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t.”
“…Useless.”
Meiguan snorted in grievance and then didn’t speak for a long while.
Jiang Jian Yue stood alone on the coastal road, letting the sea breeze blow over her.
Finally, a message came from the Dark Crow Unit.
Koji Hattori was sent to a major hospital in Fukuoka.
His current condition was poor—but as an Ability User, he wouldn’t die easily.
Kenichiro was still alive.
Of course, Koji Hattori could never bring himself to kill his own father.
However…
Both Jiang Jian Yue and Koji Hattori, who had read the Heart Worm system data, knew the truth.
With Kenichiro’s side effects, maintaining a stable Heart Worm would be nearly impossible.
He could become a Tunjiti at any moment.
All the Special Response Team could do was contain Kenichiro Hattori, keeping him in a long-term medically induced coma under humanitarian principles to delay the process of Devourer transformation.
Of course, considering costs, not everyone received such treatment.
This was only possible because DRG paid for it.
Jiang Jian Yue didn’t rush back to Tokyo.
After finishing her business in the small town, she made a special trip to the hospital in Fukuoka to check on Koji Hattori.
Outside Koji Hattori’s operating room, Jiang Jian Yue saw Koji Hattori’s younger sister—Kokoro Hattori.