Kuroda guided us to where Honda was. The place was a kind of abandoned skate park, neglected to the extreme. The ramps were cracked, the benches broken and covered in graffiti, and empty drink cans were scattered everywhere as if the wind had dragged them aimlessly.
There he was.
Honda was sitting at the top of a ramp, with the arrogant attitude of a king on his improvised throne. Next to him rested Miyu's umbrella.
"Honda, that umbrella belongs to Miyu," I said, raising my voice firmly. "Give it back right now."
He responded with a guttural laugh that echoed off the concrete walls.
"HAHAHAHA!"
But something about that laugh wasn't normal. It sounded distorted… like two voices overlapping: one was his, the other deeper, rougher, unnatural.
From above, he jumped to his feet. He grabbed Miyu's umbrella and held it with both hands like a baseball bat.
"You want it?" he asked, tilting his head with a crooked smile. "Then come and take it… if you can."
I didn't move. I took a step forward, without taking my eyes off his.
"Miyu," I said quietly, without looking at her. "Step back. Leave him to me."
I yanked off my coat, letting it fall to the ground. From one of the pockets, I pulled out my dark red combat knuckles.
Honda roared like a hungry beast and charged downhill. He came running at full speed, holding the umbrella aloft like an improvised club, aiming straight for my head.
Shit, he's coming in fast!
Mochi reacted immediately. She stepped forward and threw a straight punch. Her fist and the umbrella collided with force, sparks flying.
CLANG!
Honda was pushed back, staggering.
"Surrender!" Mochi shouted at him. "Give the umbrella back!"
"SHUT UP! SHUT UUUUP!"
Honda couldn't believe it. He expected his blow to shatter the girl's arm like a dry twig. But no. She had stopped him. And not just that—she had pushed him back.
"Damn you!"
With a furious cry, Honda launched another attack, this time from a side angle.
Mochi turned quickly and blocked with another punch.
He's strong! Really strong… and I…
Damn it! He's too hard to fight. This is my first serious battle, but he's used to fighting all the time. There's a huge gap between our skills. Just blocking his attacks takes all my focus. Forget about trying to counter.
"What's wrong? Didn't you want this umbrella back? Come on, come get it!"
Blow after blow, Honda forced Mochi to retreat. She clenched her teeth tightly. Each impact was a challenge. Blocking required all her concentration. She could barely think, let alone look for an opening.
"What's wrong, don't you want it? COME ON, TAKE IT!"
A final blow made her stagger. Mochi stepped back twice, gasping for air.
Honda grinned maliciously and launched another strike, this time aiming lower.
"Got you now!" Honda shouted.
The next attack was aimed at her legs. Mochi saw it coming, but her stance was open—she couldn't block it with her arms.
I don't have time! I have to take the risk!
I lifted my right leg and kicked the umbrella.
My foot made direct contact. I didn't knock him back like before, but at least I managed to stop the blow.
The impact was harsh but effective. Mochi staggered back, limping slightly.
I looked down. There was a dark bruise on my leg, right where the umbrella had hit… but I could still stand. I managed to block the blow without using my weapons. Maybe… I do have a chance against him.
"Yaaaah!"
Mochi charged forward and threw a punch straight at his face. But Honda used the closed umbrella to defend himself; sparks flew once again on impact. Then he stepped back, creating some distance, and swung another side attack.
But this time, I raised my left forearm and blocked it completely.
Agh! That hurt. That hit is going to leave another bruise… but this is my chance.
Honda was exposed for a moment. I wasn't going to waste it. Mochi twisted her torso and launched a right hook straight into his ribs.
I felt them crack under my fist.
Honda let out a choking sound and dropped to his knees, clutching his side in pain.
"This is your end!"
Mochi threw an uppercut straight to his chin.
Honda's body convulsed and then collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
He was completely unconscious.
Everything went silent.
My knuckles were trembling slightly. I was breathing heavily. The echo of the fight still buzzed in my ears.
My first real fight… and I won.
I looked down at my knuckles. They still emitted a faint dark glow, as if the ether pulsed within them.
"Miyu, I won!" I turned to her, an involuntary smile on my face.
Miyu came running over, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.
"Mochi-sempai, you were amazing! I knew you could do it!"
I smiled, tired but happy.
I bent down, picked the umbrella up from the ground, and handed it to her.
"Next time, don't take your eyes off it," I said kindly.
"Yes, I promise!" Miyu said, hugging the umbrella like it was a lost treasure. "I'll never let it go again."
Then she looked at me with concern.
"Senpai, are you okay? Does anything hurt?"
"Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine," I lied, as the pain in my leg and forearm began to settle in strongly.
"And what's going to happen to him? Will he go back to normal?"
"About that… I'd better ask Haruka."
I took my smartphone out of my pocket and dialed her number.
While the call rang, I added with a calm smile:
"Oh, don't worry. I won't tell her about all this… at least not right away."
When Haruka answered the call, I asked her what would happen if a normal person became corrupted by one of our weapons. The first thing she asked was if I had lost my knuckles.
I had to clarify that it was just a hypothetical scenario… though her silence told me she wasn't fully convinced.
Finally, she answered calmly:
"As long as you take the weapon away, their body should return to normal over time. There's nothing to worry about."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. But you'd better get out of there before he wakes up."
And so we did. Miyu and I left the park at a quick pace. By the time we exited the construction zone, the sky was already tinted with the colors of sunset.
"That's a shame… it's a bit late to go to a café now," Miyu said, her tone filled with sincere disappointment. "Mochi-sempai, I promise to treat you to dessert next time we see each other. I swear."
"Don't worry," I replied with a tired smile. "Today was exciting enough."
We said goodbye with a hug and went our separate ways. I returned to Haruka's house. She was already there, waiting for me. We had dinner together in silence. Then I went to change for bed, but…
"What's that?" Haruka asked suddenly, her brow furrowed.
She stared intently at my bare arm, then looked down at my leg. Dark bruises, visible even in the dim light of the lamp.
"What happened?" Her tone grew more serious. "Who did this to you?"
I swallowed hard.
I tried to change the subject, but her expression made it clear there was no escape.
I sighed.
"Alright, I'll tell you everything…"
* * *
Later that same night.
In a secluded area of the district full of bars and nightclubs, a woman walked alone under the neon lights. The streetlamps cast her silhouette over the stained and dirty sidewalk. She wore a low-cut, tight-fitting dress that shimmered under the artificial lights. She walked unsteadily, as if she were drunk.
The laughter of some passersby faded into the nighttime bustle. No one paid much attention.
Then, three figures approached from a side alley.
It was Honda and his friends.
"Hey, beautiful…" Honda said with a twisted smile. "What are you doing walking alone around here?"
"Wanna come have some fun for a while?" added Kuroda, laughing maliciously.
"We'll take good care of you, don't worry," Shōma finished, winking at her.
The three of them surrounded her. The woman barely reacted. She didn't seem to resist. Some pedestrians saw them, yes… but quickly looked away. Here, everyone knew when not to get involved.
Laughing with obscene murmurs, the three dragged her into a dark alley. The neon lights didn't reach there. Only shadows.
"Honda, you start. We'll cover the entrance," Kuroda said as he turned to keep watch.
"Yeah, hurry up because I want to go next," Shōma added.
Honda pushed the woman against the wall, chuckling between breaths. She said nothing. Her body barely moved.
"Come on, don't make this boring…"
Then, it happened.
A stream of warm blood splattered on Kuroda and Shōma's backs.
"Hey! What…?"
Both turned around immediately.
And what they saw chilled them to the bone.
Honda was facing away from them. His body stiff, as if frozen. Through his torso—from his back to his chest—pierced a thin arm, covered in blood. The woman's arm.
She had stabbed him as if he were paper.
Honda's body collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud. Blood spread across the concrete, forming a thick, dense pool.
The woman, now standing in front of the two, calmly stepped over the corpse. Her heels crushed Honda's chest without the slightest hesitation.
Her eyes shone with an intense golden hue. Unnatural. Fierce. Like a predator's.
Kuroda took a step back. Shōma couldn't even breathe.
"What… what the hell is that?"
The woman smiled.
And took another step toward them.
Both took several seconds to react. When they finally understood what they had just seen, they let out a scream of panic and tried to turn to run from that woman. But they weren't fast enough.
She lunged at them with inhuman speed, reaching Shōma in the blink of an eye. She raised her arm and with a precise slash from her long nails tore his lower jaw clean off.
Blood spurted like a fountain.
Shōma fell to his knees, eyes wide open as he tried to scream. He only managed a horrible gurgle before collapsing completely.
Kuroda tried to run, but the woman chased after him. She caught him in a second, grabbed him by the shoulder, and slammed him against the wall with such force that the concrete cracked.
She held him immobilized there, using only one hand.
He struggled with all his might, unable to believe what was happening. He was strong, big, used to imposing himself. But that woman, slender and looking drunk, had him completely at her mercy.
"What… are you?" he groaned, eyes wide with terror.
She didn't answer. She only smiled wickedly, showing a row of sharp fangs.
Then, with a sudden movement, she dug her claws into his throat. With a sharp pull, she tore his trachea out clean.
Kuroda fell to the ground, writhing as he choked on his own blood, making horrible, convulsive sounds.
She ignored him completely. She took a few steps, wiping the blood off her hand as she muttered with growing hatred.
"Damn cat…" she spat through clenched teeth. "I swear I'll make you pay for what you did to me. When I catch you, when I have you in my claws… I'll make you wish for death."
Her eyes shone with rage, pure resentment. She hated that girl with every fiber of her being. That girl who had reduced her to this humiliating existence.
After being crushed on the sidewalk, her original body suffered severe damage. Repairing it would have cost a huge amount of energy and time—two things she didn't have. She knew that if she stayed there, the hunters would arrive soon. And that would be the end.
She had no choice left.
If she wanted to survive, she had to abandon her body and find a substitute. But the area was deserted. The streets were empty. There were no available bodies… humans, at least.
So she chose what she found: a rat. A filthy, disgusting street rat.
She spent hours crawling like an animal through the sewers. Literally.
Her consciousness, trapped in that gnawed body, writhed with rage and humiliation. The mana she had was barely enough to keep her conscious. And when she thought all was lost… she found her.
A completely drunk woman, sitting alone on a bench, unable to stay awake.
She was her salvation.
Possessing that body consumed almost all her remaining energy, but she managed it. Now she occupied a human body, but she was far from her former power. She could barely use a few minor spells. Nothing compared to what she had been.
It didn't matter.
She swore to herself that she would regain her power.
And when she did… that girl would pay. She would make her suffer like no one before. She would make her beg for death.