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📢| Note: From this chapter onwards quite a few chapters will have Chinese related stuff and like racism and stuff, and also one of the chapters it feels like full on xianxia vives. I have removed most of the unnecessary things but I did left a few stuff, because of the type of situation in that 'exact' chapter. There are many times where it was racism stuff between Japan and China and also Honk Kong. Anyways that's all I wanted to say. ✌️
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Chan Ho-Nam lay sprawled on the ground, utterly dazed.
At first, when they'd been ambushed, he thought it was a rival gang making a move. After all, he had just risen to power not long ago, and plenty of people wanted to use his head as a stepping stone.
But then, when Ryuji beat them all down and extorted them of every cent, everyone was dumbfounded.
These days, even petty thieves knew better than to mess with gang members. But this stranger didn't care in the slightest—and worse, he had just beat up dozen men all on his own.
"You're not… a Big Circle boy, are you? Boss, if you really need money, why don't you just join us?"
Holding his swollen face, Ho-Nam looked at Ryuji, who was calmly counting the cash he'd taken, and couldn't help the thought of recruiting him.
He had no choice. Ryuji's strength was frightening, and his manner clearly showed he wasn't a local. No Hong Kong gangsters carried themselves with such reckless arrogance.
"Join your gang? Hah. Unless you've got a stockpile of machine guns and rocket launchers, I'm not interested."
Ryuji spat in contempt. Even if he wanted quick cash, he'd rather rob a gold shop or a bank than play gangster games. What could a gang really do? Bullying ordinary people, that's all. Did they dare demand protection money from the Governor himself?
Besides, in this era, what triad didn't have some politician—or worse, some British big shot—pulling the strings behind them?
If it weren't for his current mission, he'd already be planting explosives at Government House.
Li Ka-shing, the Governor… a pack of parasites. A bunch of banana men swaggering on stolen ground—feeding on the sweat and blood of their compatriots while groveling to foreigners and stomping on their own people. Later, when the local economy grew, things improved.
And the triads? They were just tools for those above to play tyrant with. Ryuji would have to be truly degraded to join such men—especially when every one of these groups was already in bed with the upper echelons.
Everyone knew: each triad branch paid its cut upstairs. Every gangster film made that clear.
Ryuji wasn't about to be anyone's dog.
"You bend the knee to bosses and big guys behind them, bullying civilians while calling yourselves 'heroes.' And you think I'd stand beside you?"
He sneered coldly, then casually kicked Chan Ho-Nam into unconsciousness. Without another word, he walked off under the frightened stares of the thugs and found a random black-market hotel to spend the night.
The conditions were, of course, garbage. Ryuji didn't care. He'd slept in worse places before. At least there was a television, which was something.
But after flipping through the news channels—even checking Japanese broadcasts—he still found nothing unusual. Pulling out his pocket watch, he saw the needle still shifting erratically, which only deepened his confusion.
Was it pointing toward his mission target? A teammate? Or perhaps one of the women he might want to sleep with in this world?
Whatever the case, the constant movement turned him into a headless fly chasing after nothing.
At least he had prepared for such nonsense. After all, if the Demon Slayer world could be invaded by Cthulhu horrors, then nothing was off the table anymore.
So he gave up brooding and gazed out the window at the cityscape.
The dazzling night view made him sigh.
"If only I had a storage device…"
With a proper space-storage item, he could've hauled tanks and aircraft from Japan, even slipped in some incendiaries for that ridiculous "toilet shrine." Using his fire abilities directly was far too conspicuous—bombs and grenades would be more appropriate.
A stray thought crossed his mind:
"Maybe I should cosplay as the Japanese Gunman?"
But he quickly dismissed it. He had practical reasons to keep this world intact. Sure, some worlds demanded an absurd amount of energy for travel—maybe due to distance, difficulty, or instability—but many others were cheap and easy to cross into.
Making a scene here would only complicate things.
"So I can't just run wild after all…"
He sighed again.
"Still, normally the landing point should have some connection. Why… haven't I found anything?"
He frowned, puzzled. And then the television switched to another broadcast.
"Joketsuzoku…"
"Hm?"
Village of Women Heroes?
Ryuji blinked, cracking open a bottle of Coke as he kept watching. The next moment, he nearly sprayed it all over the screen.
On the broadcast, rows of women marched in neat formation, all dressed in old-style green military uniforms. Their clothes looked dated, but their spirits were blazing high, every face glowing with pride.
Not only that—the streets behind them were full of cars and modern infrastructure.
"This doesn't make sense…"
Wasn't this the 1990s? This aesthetic didn't fit at all.
Ryuji glanced out the window at the bustling Hong Kong streets. The locals wore modern clothes, stylish and up-to-date with the times. But when he compared that to the footage on TV—showing his home country—he saw a completely different picture. People there still dressed in the old, almost rustic military uniforms of decades past. It looked outdated… and yet, the cities, the roads, the buildings—everything was properly developed, keeping pace with modern standards.
It didn't make sense.
And the leaders on television? Ryuji didn't recognize a single face.
"What the hell is going on here…? Sure, every world is different, so I can't expect it to line up exactly with my memories. But this… this looks like something out of an anime caricature. Could this really be another manga world?"
The thought unsettled him.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and strode out of the cheap hotel. The moment he stepped into the street, he spotted a gangster—dyed yellow hair, cocky attitude—finishing a bowl of noodles.
"Boss, pack me two more to go. And remember, I'm with Big Brother B now. You know what that means, right?"
The shop owner instantly broke into a flattering smile.
"Of course, of course! I wouldn't dream of charging you…"
Before the man could finish, Ryuji seized the gangster by his bleached hair and slammed his head onto the table. A sharp slap followed, and before the thug could even process what happened, Ryuji dragged him into a nearby alley.
The gangster opened his mouth, ready to curse—only to double over in pain as Ryuji's boot drove into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
Then came the click of metal.
From under his coat, Ryuji pulled a heavy revolver—one fine-tuned by Kiri herself—and pressed the cold barrel against the gangster's temple.
"I ask. You answer."
The gangster swallowed hard, his bravado gone in an instant.
"Y-yes, sir!"
Ryuji's eyes narrowed.
"Our country. What's the deal with it?"
"What… what do you mean?"
"I'm asking about benefits. The welfare system."
"Oh, that! I, uh… I heard it's pretty good. Jobs are guaranteed, housing is provided, no need to worry about food or medical bills. Sure, you can't make much money, but you don't have to worry about food either. And, um… recently they even allowed private business. For us little guys it doesn't matter much, but for the big bosses it's pretty sweet."
Ryuji exhaled slowly. At least that made some sense.
"Then why the hell are you out here playing gangster? Why not go to your hometown and start a business?"
The thug stared at him, bewildered.
"Boss, if I had the money or brains for that, do you think I'd be a gangster?"
Ryuji glanced down at the man's pants pocket, where a pornographic magazine stuck out, and the condom that had fallen to the ground when he kicked him earlier. Yeah. Ambition wasn't exactly this guy's strong suit.
"…Forget I asked. Next question. What's this 'Joketsuzoku' I keep hearing about?"
The punk blinked.
"Joketsuzoku? Oh! The tribe of warrior women near Jusenkyō. They've got some crazy martial arts, I hear. But the real weird stuff is the springs—Jusenkyō itself. They say if you fall in, you get cursed. Like, if you fall into the Spring of Drowned Girl, you turn into a girl whenever you touch cold water! There's one for ducks, pigs, you name it!"
Ryuji froze.
Jusenkyō? Spring of Drowned Girl? Joketsuzoku?
That was… Ranma ½.
The realization hit him hard.
Before he could digest it, the punk went on, sneering, "But who cares about martial arts? They've never produced anyone impressive. Honestly, what's the point? These days, a handgun does the job. Our country already cracked nuclear fusion! Instead of training fists and kicks, people should be studying the books, using their brains, becoming scientists! Don't you agree, boss?"
He forced a grin, though it was twisted from the pain in his gut.
Smack!
Ryuji's palm connected with the thug's face, sharp and merciless.
The punk reeled, clutching his cheek in confusion.
"B-boss! I answered! Why hit me?!"
"You dare talk about studying hard, becoming a scientist—while you waste your life playing gangster?" Ryuji's eyes were cold. "Sounds like you're just bullshitting me."
Another crack as his hand whipped across the punk's face.
Tears welled in the punk's eyes. "I swear, boss, I'm not lying! If I were smart enough, if I had the grades, do you think I'd be out here on the streets?"
Ryuji's lips curled. He gave the kid another slap, making his snot fly out.
"You admit you're dumb, and you still didn't even try to study harder?"
Ryuji truly despised these gangsters—especially the kind who knew their path was wrong yet still chose the underworld.
But what the thug had just said caught his attention.
"You said nuclear fusion has already been developed? You're a local, you should know better than me!"
The thug looked on the verge of tears.
Ryuji's fluent Mandarin made him seem like a native. How could he not even know something as major as this? Still, the thug had no choice but to answer.
"Y-Yeah! Boss! They're even planning lunar development lately. A lot of factories were dismantled—to protect the land from pollution, they said…"
Ryuji nodded. If this world was that advanced, there was no point wasting time with him. He glanced at the terrified gangster—who looked about ready to wet himself—and casually asked,
"Then what's been happening in Hong Kong lately? And anything big in Japan?"
He didn't expect much; it was just idle questioning. Now that he knew this was Ranma's world, all he had to do was find Ranma and check out how the main character was doing.
The thug swallowed hard and stammered, "Hong Kong hasn't had any major news lately… but I heard the Global Psychic Competition is going to be hosted here. As for Japan, uh… I think some 'savior of the Japanese police' went missing. And they're planning to build a… 'Third New Tokyo City' or something."
Ryuji: "..."
Wait. Crossover?
His mind buzzed. He instantly grabbed the thug's collar again.
"This world has Angels?!"
He was genuinely shocked. Sure, his strength was decent now—but fighting Angels? That wasn't something he could just get involved in! Those battles were preordained for someone else entirely!
"A-Angels? I-I don't know what you mean, boss!"
The thug, staring at Ryuji's terrifying expression, finally lost control and pissed himself.
Ryuji grilled him with more questions before finally confirming—this world wasn't EVA's stage. The Antarctic and Arctic were untouched; no First Impact or Second impact, nothing like that. "Third New Tokyo City" was just because Tokyo had already been destroyed twice by unknown forces…
Relieved, Ryuji released the thug. He pulled out three thousand Honk Kong dollar from his wallet and tossed it at his face.
"Buy yourself some new clothes. And listen—there's no future in being a gangster. If I ever catch you running with them again, I'll beat you down every single time."
Having said that, Ryuji turned and headed back to his hotel.
"Now the question is… do I head to Japan first, or take a look around the home country?"
He was extremely curious about the state of China in this world. If they'd really developed nuclear fusion while still maintaining the natural environment…
Honestly, Ryuji was dumbfounded.
"But if my life really were a novel, written by some author, wouldn't this kind of plot get the whole book banned?"
He muttered a dry joke to himself, then decided against the idea of traveling immediately.
After all, he didn't even have an ID card. If he went, it'd only cause more trouble.
"I need to figure out a way to get proper identification first."
He stroked his chin, gaze drifting toward the bustling night market. His eyes soon locked on a group of obvious gangsters. If his guess was right, they might have a way. And even if they didn't, they could definitely point him toward someone who did.
Plus—they had money.
"My senior transmigrators never lied!"
Leaving the hotel, he followed the gangsters into a dark alley. But before he could make a move, two men suddenly burst out—one looked about eighty percent like Stephen Chow, the other about eighty percent like Uncle Tat—being chased by a group of people.
"Help! Uncle Tat! Didn't you say they wouldn't actually use machetes?!"
The sudden appearance of yet another "main character" made Ryuji stunned for a moment. And in that single moment of hesitation, the two men were already gone.
Before he could regroup, the gangsters he'd been tailing suddenly found themselves blocked by a young man wielding a pair of nunchaku.
Ryuji hadn't even had time to recognize him before the stranger introduced himself with a shout:
"Listen up! I, Wang Xiaohu, am not afraid of the likes of you!"
Dragon Tiger Gate?
Ryuji stared blankly as this self-proclaimed Wang Xiaohu dispatched the thugs in just a few strikes, then strode off with an air of righteousness. His head was spinning.
"I need to get my thoughts straight…"
By day, there had been no clear leads. Now, one after another, protagonists were popping up in front of him. Still dazed, he found a barbeque pork rice stall and sat down, only for an arrogant voice to interrupt his thoughts.
"Of course you mix it all together and make Beef Balls, idiot!"
Turning his head, Ryuji saw—unsurprisingly—yet another Stephen Chow. He turned back and, sure enough, there was a man speaking with fiery passion:
"I've waited three years for this chance! I don't need to prove I'm great. I just want everyone to know—whatever I've lost, I'll take it back!"
Ryuji: "…"
He drew a deep breath. Just then, the barbeque pork rice he'd ordered was placed before him. The stall owner approached awkwardly.
"Uh, sir… these gentlemen are asking to share your table."
"Sure," Ryuji answered without looking up.
Only after they sat down did he realize who they were.
Three bitter faces.
One was Stephen Chow. Another was Andy Lau. The last was Uncle Tat.
And the three of them sighed in unison as they took their seats.
"…"
Ryuji eyed their long faces and cautiously asked, "The three of you… troubled by love?"
"That's right!" all three spoke.
Tricky Brains?or All's Well, Ends Well?
The thought flickered through Ryuji's head. He shook it away. No point overthinking. Better to calm down with his late-night meal.
But before he could take another bite, Jackie Chan walked past. Ryuji blinked. Then from the opposite direction came Jet Li.
"… … …"
Setting down his chopsticks, Ryuji watched the three men at his table descend into a petty argument. He rubbed his temples, sinking into heavy thought.
So who the hell is the actual protagonist here?
Just moments ago, he'd felt surrounded by leads. Now he was back to chasing shadows like a headless fly. Maybe it was his own luck that was cursed.
"How the hell am I supposed to find the main plotline… or the real protagonist?"
His scalp itched as though his brain were straining to grow a new wrinkle.
If this were only filled with anime characters, the choice would be easy—head to Japan, track down the leads there. But here in Hong Kong, it was flooded with protagonists from films, variety shows, comics, everything. Who among them carried the fragment of the world? And who is the true invader of this world? Where is is now?
Watching the three men bicker before him, Ryuji sighed helplessly.
"If only I could just kill them all."
If they were monsters, he wouldn't hesitate to start a massacre.
Unfortunately, they weren't.
But then a spark lit in his mind.
"…Actually, maybe that's another approach. If I make enough noise, anyone abnormal will be forced to come looking for me. Not a bad plan."
Better than flailing in the dark like this, at least.
"In that case… first step, wipe out the gangs."
Ryuji inhaled deeply. If he was going to stir trouble, then he might as well make it big. And really, what could be safer—morally and practically—than eradicating the gangs and street thugs? No guilt, no hesitation.
"That settles it. I was never suitable for such complicated task."
Hand brushing the gun at his waist, Ryuji paid for his meal and left the stall, heading toward the neighborhood where he'd last seen Chan Ho-Nam and his crew.
He wasn't sure if Chen Ho Nam belonged to Hung Hing or some other syndicate—but it didn't matter. A gangster was a gangster, and their hands were stained with blood. That was reason enough to start with him.
The truth was, Ryuji had once admired Chen Ho Nam. But thinking about it now, hadn't the man been deep in drugs since youth, with never the slightest thought of repentance?
Such people… their deaths were well deserved.
"Sorry, but killing you won't weigh on my conscience. In fact, I'll sleep easier."
Bloodlust flickered in Ryuji's eyes. Since arriving, he had seen too many gangsters oppressing the innocent. The atmosphere of this place sickened him.
Since these gang member valued loyalty so much…
…then naturally, they could join their "brothers" in the afterlife.
The leads were too many, the clues too scattered. Here in this place, with no ties and no allies, Ryuji knew he couldn't hope to unravel everything piece by piece. So instead—he would make the story come to him.
He, Ryuji, has long been a lawless madman.
And this wasn't Earth.
With a single kick, he blew open the doors of the bar. Ryuji swung the M16 from his back into his hands and opened fire on Chan Ho-Nam's crew.
The one called "Chicken"—or was it "Chiu "?—was the first to die, his skull bursting like a rotten tomato. Chan Ho-Nam, however, Ryuji spared—barely. A burst of fire shattered one of his arms and a leg, dropping him to the ground, screaming.
Chaos erupted in the bar. Ryuji cut down a few more gangsters in bursts of gunfire, then he used his observation haki, and walked calmly toward the fallen Chan Ho-Nam.
"Well, well. Kid, if you want to keep breathing, you're going to tell me where the other gangs keep their hideouts… and where your boss's sworn enemies operate. Don't say I forced you to betray your brothers—I'm giving you a way out, yeah?"
Ryuji grinned, tapping Chan Ho-Nam's face with the hot barrel of his rifle. The metal sizzled against skin, drawing spasms of pain. After a long silence, under the weight of the gun, Chan Ho-Nam finally opened his mouth. He spat out a few rival hideouts—but nothing about his boss's enemies.
"Hmph. Clever little rat."
Ryuji said no more. He didn't bother finishing him off. Chan Ho-Nam was already done for; even if an ambulance arrived this very second, it couldn't save him.
Ryuji moved on, straight to the next place. And sure enough, he ran into familiar faces—Louis Koo lookalikes, the usual celebrities of Hong Kong movies. He didn't bother sorting out who was who. What mattered was that he found a few actual bosses.
The machine gun roared again, mowing down the obvious killers among their underlings. Then, pressing his weapon against the foreheads of the surviving leaders, Ryuji forced them to give up their rivals' locations. And once more, he hit those places hard, burning them down.
By the next day, Ryuji was on every wanted list in Hong Kong.
He had killed more than twenty men. The whole island was on lockdown, the police in a frenzy, the SDU on standby for deployment.
But Ryuji had anticipated this.
Back in the Demon Slayer world, he had learned how deeply worlds favored their "protagonists." He'd seen Tanjiro and Nezuko conveniently show up during the Corps' internal collapse, even serving as vessels for the world's will to descend and interfere.
The invading monsters, too, had played strategically—splintering and weakening the Demon Slayer Corps first, though the Corps had been ants before them.
It was clear. Plot, destiny, "fortune"—call it what you liked. It carried power.
Disturb that order, and you could lure things out.
Ryuji didn't believe in "destiny." In the Demon Slayer world, he could have butchered Tanjiro and Nezuko with a single careless swing. If someone without knowledge of the plot had been there, Nezuko would never have survived.
If fate truly existed, where did that leave him, Ryuji?
No—he rejected such notions. But he understood this: once a world's natural order was disrupted, the response—be it from native forces or outside invaders—would come.
The world itself might not care. Ryuji had glimpsed its power once, and he held it in awe.
But the invaders?
They would never give up such an advantage. Especially not after Ryuji's "random" killing spree. They would be forced to act. And once they did, he would find them.
So, after killing several gang members in the plot, Ryuji vanished, resting in the shadows. He had no intention of facing the full brunt of Hong Kong's modern armies. He would wait, watch.
If it really doesn't work, he would go to Japan.
It wasn't ideal, but better than wasting decades chasing every protagonist and subplot one by one. And if his theory proved wrong, the process itself would eliminate false leads.
Staying still, or knocking on every "protagonist's" door—both were the acts of a fool. He had to break the cheeseboard itself.
And indeed, his gamble paid off.
"As expected, there is a benefit to doing this."
Under the shadow of an overpass, Ryuji sat with his eyes closed, quietly resting. Then, he suddenly sensed a strange, subtle aura—an aura of world power. It was rushing toward him at great speed, and mixed within it was a familiar sensation, the same warped presence he had once encountered back in the Demon Slayer world.
A distorted world power.
"So, it finally came."
But the twisted power wasn't coming directly for him. Instead—
"I hate it… I hate it so much!!"
The souls of the gangsters Ryuji had killed earlier were suddenly pulled together by the dark and twisted world power. Before long, a man cloaked in shadow appeared on the street. It was the gangster called Crow the villain of the Young and Dangerous series—the very one Ryuji had killed. His body healed rapidly, scars vanishing.
But then, his form began to grotesquely mutate. In mere moments, he had transformed into a half-fish, half-human monster.
"Power! More power!! AHHHH! I'll kill you all!!"
The revived Crow had lost all reason. He remembered the man who killed him. He remembered the taste of being alive. But now, staring at the living humans around him, no longer feeling the warmth of his own existence, his rage exploded. He wanted them to taste death as he had.
He lunged at a stunned thug nearby. With a single swipe, he cleaved the man in half, stuffing the mangled corpse directly into his mouth.
Ryuji leapt onto the bridge, his gaze fixing on the distant crow. The corners of his mouth curved into a faint smile.
"You sure took your time. After searching for me all this time, only to spawn your monster right in front of me—did you finally figure out who I am? Interesting. Let's see if the monsters you summoned can actually put up a fight."
He chuckled lightly, drew his handgun, and aimed it at the crow. If the creature was nothing more than a weakling that could be taken down with a pistol, then it wouldn't even be worth his serious effort.
Once he finished it off, he could claim its World Power. From there the purified World Power would naturally reveal more information.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Just as Ryuji was about to step forward and claim his prize, five dazzling beams of light shot down before him. Out of those lights emerged five striking figures, each striking a dramatic pose in front of the crow that was about to rampage.
And then, he heard a line:
"In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"
Ryuji: "…"
Sailor Moon?!
What the hell was going on in this world?!
His eyes instinctively trailed down to their long, pale legs and the curves of their hips beneath the ultra-short skirts. After a quick, thoughtful inspection, he came to a conclusion.
Their outfits wouldn't suffer any wardrobe malfunctions.
Sure, they were miniskirts, but they were really just stylized leotards—gymnastics uniforms with built-in underwear.
"…Practical, at least. Still, why the hell is there Sailor Moon? Just how many secrets does this world have? Don't tell me Doraemon's going to pop out next!"
His brain buzzed with the absurdity of it all—only to be further derailed when two elementary school girls suddenly dashed past him, shouting excitedly in Japanese.
"Sakura! Are they magical girls too? Do you know them?"
"I don't know them, Tomoyo!"
Ryuji turned his head, and sure enough, one of the girls was clutching a staff topped with a bird-shaped head.
"…Wait a minute."
The first Moe Queen herself, Sakura Kinomoto?
Cardcaptor Sakura?!
What kind of insane crossover was this world turning into?
But when he saw Sakura practically bouncing with excitement, eager to fight alongside the high-heeled magical girls, Ryuji calmly stepped forward and placed his hands firmly on the two little girls' heads, stopping them in their tracks.
"This has nothing to do with you two. It'd be best for you to leave. I don't know why you came running over here, but this is an adult matter."
He had no intention of letting elementary schoolers get dragged into a battle on this scale. Even if that staff-wielding girl really was Sakura Kinomoto, and even if she might be able to overpower him at full power, this was still his responsibility. After all, the monster had been drawn here by him.
However, before he could finish speaking, a figure suddenly appeared in his perception, brazenly pointing a hand directly at his head.
Without a hint of hesitation, Ryuji spun around and delivered a sharp kick, sending the intruder's hand upward—and with it, whatever they were holding.
"What…?!"
The newcomer shouted in shock, but the next moment, Ryuji's foot struck her stomach, sending the beautiful woman crashing to the ground.
Ryuji extended his hand, catching the object that had been kicked away—and only then did he realize it was nothing more than a completely fake toy gun.
"You're bold," he said casually, "but… have you recognized my identity?"
His gaze finally fell on the woman he had just kicked. Without a doubt, she was beautiful, exuding the presence of a mature, confident woman, though there wasn't any immediately recognizable feature.
As for why she had aimed a gun at his head, Ryuji instantly understood everything when he saw the concern in her eyes for the two children. Without hesitation, he shoved the two elementary school kids toward her.
She didn't hesitate either. She scooped up the children, hiding them behind her, all while keeping a wary eye on Ryuji.
Ryuji offered a simple explanation.
"Think what you want. I only kill scum. Since you care about these kids, just take them somewhere safe. That was my plan anyway."
He had no particular desire to converse with the woman. If Sakura Kinomoto had been a high schooler, he might have tried to approach her—but these were elementary school kids!
If she was worried about the girls, she could take them. As for him—
Ryuji narrowed his eyes, staring at the sky.
Moments ago, the sun had been shining bright, but now the sky had darkened significantly. Countless angry and unwilling spirits of underworld gangsters were being absorbed into Crow's body, transforming him into a grotesque monster. His original form was long gone; all that remained was a fish-headed, humanoid figure with sharp claws and fangs.
And the magical girls?
Watching the five of them attack with no coordination and clearly inexperienced techniques, it was obvious they were going to fail.
Taking a deep breath, Ryuji gripped the hilt of his sword. The cloth that had been concealing his massive blade ignited instantly in golden flames, revealing the heavy blade beneath.
The woman's eyes widened in shock as she watched him swing the sword, sending a wave of golden fire in her direction.
She immediately shielded Sakura and Tomoyo behind her. The flames burned like hell, forcing her to scream in pain—but then, to her astonishment, the pain completely vanished.
She looked at Ryuji in disbelief. He just smiled faintly, preparing to face the monster head-on.
After all, Crow had grown tentacles and was radiating immense fury. If he didn't act now, the title of "Magical Girls" might soon carry a new, tragic suffix: "slain."
But just as Ryuji rushed forward, his eyes caught a nameplate on the woman's chest.
The name was: Misato Katsuragi.
Ryuji nearly stumbled.
"Wait a damn second… this is actually EVA?!"
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P.S. I might change the cover pic.
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