The outside world generally misunderstands Adachi District, believing its public safety is atrocious.
In reality, public safety in Adachi District is decent; residents only have about a ten percent chance of encountering theft, robbery, or harassment from drunkards.
After dinner at home, Aozawa changed into a clean long-sleeved T-shirt and casual pants.
He donned a duckbill cap and a black, shark-patterned face mask, then strolled through Adachi District.
Aozawa wanted to find a suitable subject for Hypnosis to test its limits—or rather, the limits the human body could reach.
It's said the human body has a limiter, protecting people from exerting strength that would cause self-injury. Could Hypnosis break this physical limiter? For instance, if he hypnotized someone, commanding them not to die until they had killed thirty people, could that person actually kill thirty others before succumbing? Or, say, make someone jump from the first floor to the second without any tools? Whether Hypnosis could unlock these physical limits was the question Aozawa currently pondered. According to the information he had, his Ability was strongest during the first week. In the second week, new Superpowers would emerge, and existing Abilities would rapidly decline. His Telekinesis, for example, was so strong in the first week he could treat steel like modeling clay; now, he struggled even to lift his own body. What experiments would be best to conduct in the first week, before applying Hypnosis to himself? Could he turn himself into a sports prodigy or an academic genius? But first, he definitely needed to find a few "test subjects" to experiment with the upper limits of his Hypnosis Ability.
...
Beyond the dazzling neon lights, in the darkness, a faulty, flickering streetlight cast an eerie glow over a silent bridge and a soundlessly flowing stream, creating an eerie atmosphere.
Iwaai Takehiro paid no mind to the horror movie-like scene, the kind he usually feared most. He stood by the bridge, gazing into the river as if something within it captivated his gaze, his very soul.
Go down. Go down, and everything will end.
A voice called from deep within, urging his limbs to climb the bridge's railing, ready to embrace the river.
"Are you trying to commit suicide?"
A gentle voice suddenly came from behind him.
Iwaai Takehiro was surprised; he hadn't expected anyone on this small path at this hour.
He turned his head. Someone was approaching from one end of the bridge—about 1.8 meters tall and not heavy-set. His face was hidden by a black, shark-patterned mask, revealing only a pair of bright eyes.
"Can you tell me why?"
Whether it was the words or the eyes, an inexplicable sense of calm filled Iwaai Takehiro's heart. He replied subconsciously, "Because I committed an irreversible wrong. I deserve to die. If I hadn't racked up a huge gambling debt at the Pachinko Parlor in Kita-Senju—a debt I couldn't repay—Kiku wouldn't have been taken by those beasts, toyed with, and then driven to suicide."
He remembered Kiku staring at him with desperate, wooden eyes as she drew the blade across her neck. Her blood had sprayed onto his once-proud and dearly cherished Snowy Mountains. This tormented Iwaai Takehiro with self-blame more than any words could, making him want to commit suicide to join her.
But Kiku probably wouldn't want such a powerless man by her side. He considered going out, finding some place to end his life, and becoming a lonely ghost—a fitting end for a man like him.
"How can this be your fault?" Aozawa activated his Hypnosis Ability and said in a deep voice, "It wasn't the Pachinko that tempted you, nor those people who got you hooked on gambling, that made you this way. Kill them. Only by killing all those people can you find peace. Only then will you have the courage to face Kiku. You cannot die until you've killed the bastard who destroyed your home and family!"
"Yes, you're right! I'm going to kill them!"
Iwaai Takehiro's deadened heart ignited like dry tinder meeting a flame. He couldn't die like this! He had to avenge Kiku! He had to finish them off!
Aozawa's eyes sparkled with excitement. After wandering for an hour and a half, he'd finally found the perfect subject for Hypnosis. Now, all that remained was to see if this person could break the limits of the human body.
...
Japan prohibits gambling. However, Pachinko isn't considered gambling; it's merely selling steel balls. Conveniently, there's often a shop next door where these balls can be used to buy small figurines and other goods. Then, other shops allow people to exchange those goods for cash. After all, the law can't prohibit people from buying and selling goods, can it?
It's akin to horse racing: people claim that out of love and care for horses, they're willing to spend money to look after the "poor creatures." How could such a "loving" act ever be equated with something as harmful as gambling?
Thus, in Japan, where gambling is forbidden, Pachinko and horse racing are legal activities. Pachinko Parlors can operate openly in prime locations. Horse racing organizations even advertise themselves, funding anime series to glamorize the industry and lure more young people in as easy marks.
Aozawa arrived outside a Pachinko Parlor in Kita-Senju.
He took off his mask, bought a bottle of orange juice from a vending machine, popped the tab, and leaned against a wall, observing the Ishino Financial Company building next to the Pachinko Parlor.
It was 8:51 PM, and the streets were bustling.
Kita-Senju is Adachi District's most vibrant area. While not on par with the sleepless streets of Kabukicho, it certainly wasn't deserted at eight or nine in the evening.
Aozawa quietly sipped his cold orange juice.
Then, Iwaai Takehiro appeared on the street.
He had a slim build, the kind that immediately marked him as the studious type. His eyes were bloodshot. He hurried toward Ishino Financial Company, one hand gripping a machete hidden inside his coat, like a heavily panting beast.
Passersby instinctively sensed something was wrong with him and steered clear, though many cast curious glances. Japanese people generally ignore outlandish attire, but someone clearly in a disturbed state could still pique their curiosity. Especially given the direction Iwaai Takehiro was heading.
Many young people stopped in their tracks, watching discreetly.
Two menacing-looking Yakuza were coming down from the second floor. Upon seeing Iwaai Takehiro with one hand tucked inside his coat, they grew vigilant. "Who are you?" one of them demanded.
The other Yakuza pulled out a spring knife, brandishing it menacingly.
In their line of work, fights and revenge were commonplace. Many gamblers who'd lost heavily, or debtors who couldn't pay, thought they could summon their courage and reenact scenes from gangster movies—one man taking down an entire crew. However, movies were just movies.
"You bastards who killed Kiku! I'm going to kill you!" Iwaai Takehiro roared, flinging open his coat. The machete in his hand slashed through the air like lightning.
The nearest Yakuza instinctively raised an arm to block. The blade sliced through flesh and struck bone. "AH!" The intense pain made him scream.
The other Yakuza, furious, pulled out his spring knife. "You're looking for death!" he roared, lunging forward with the blade.
Iwaai Takehiro ignored the knife stabbing at his body; his free left fist smashed hard into the man's nose.
CRUNCH. The sound of his nose bridge shattering rang out. Tears, snot, and blood instantly blurred the Yakuza's vision. He was so dazed that he forgot to exert any force with the knife that had already stabbed into Iwaai Takehiro's body.
Then, Iwaai Takehiro wrenched his machete free and slashed it across the Yakuza's neck. A torrent of blood sprayed onto the nearby wall.
Like a Demon God, he ascended the steps.