Chapter 63
The Hunter Bureau's headquarters had always been the beating heart of order in Japan's chaotic world of gates and monsters. Today, it looked like the morgue of a dying nation.
Bloodied hunters leaned against the sterile walls, clutching broken arms or wounds that leaked through torn uniforms. Emergency lights cast the corridors in harsh red hues. The smell of antiseptic mixed with iron and smoke, the scent of triage where reception desks had been replaced with stretchers and operating tables. Groans of the wounded echoed through the stairwells.
On the war room's top floor, the air was still. Analysts hunched over glowing monitors, casualty counters rising with every refresh. 10,000 confirmed dead. Then 15,000. Then 22,450. The numbers refused to stop climbing.
And then the President spoke once more
Kenzō Matsuda The president of Japan spoke with the composure of a surgeon about to dissect a body. His black suit was immaculate, his hair combed with surgical precision. His hands remained folded behind his back as though even gravity bowed to him. The Minister of Defense and the Chief Cabinet Secretary followed, aides trailing behind with tablets displaying disaster reports and live feeds of carnage.
The moment he spoke silence fell.
After all he was the president of the most powerful nation
The Bureau Director bowed stiffly, voice cracking under the weight of exhaustion.
"M-Mr. President, the situation is..."
Matsuda's voice sliced the air.
"What is the solution?"
Not why. Not how bad. Only what next.
The Director faltered, eyes darting to his staff. He found no answer.
The Minister of Defense interjected.
"Mr. President, five colossal gates manifested across Tokyo simultaneously. Our instruments detected no anomalies prior. No spikes, no warnings. They… simply appeared."
Matsuda's eyes did not blink.
"You assured this government Tokyo was safe. That your technology would detect disaster before it struck. Were those assurances lies?"
The Bureau Director swallowed, sweat glistening.
"No, sir. We believed the system flawless. This event defies all known gate theory. It should not have been possible."
"And yet it happened," Matsuda said softly, his words colder than steel.
At the edge of the room stood Arisa, the S-rank hunter. Her coat was still torn, blade stained. She had defended the Bureau itself during the chaos, cutting down wave after wave of beasts that spilled into the streets. Her eyes met the President's without flinching.
"Arisa," he said. "You were present. Report."
Her jaw clenched, voice steady.
"The creatures or magic beasts were unlike anything in the archives. Organized, disciplined, led. It was strange as if they were prepared for this moment. Their average strength exceeded A-rank. Many fought at S-rank levels. Civilians had no chance. Even for hunters… most didn't survive."
Matsuda tilted his head, gaze unreadable.
"And the humanoids ?"
The Bureau Director tried to respond, but Arisa spoke first.
They said they were generals of a king and it was
Confirmed. Each gate contained an entity far beyond SS-rank. Their mana was oppressive, crushing. Without Takeda in the western district, the death toll would have doubled."
A minister broke the silence, voice trembling.
"Mr. President… this is no longer a national matter. Five simultaneous colossal gates in the capital? We cannot contain this alone. I urge we declare an emergency session with the United Nations."
Gasps rippled through the room. Some ministers nodded, others looked horrified.
Matsuda's cold gaze turned on the speaker.
"You would parade Japan's weakness before the world?"
The man swallowed.
With all due respect Mr president but this is all over the news sir all around the world, This is not weakness, sir. This is survival. If the phenomenon spreads, the entire planet is at risk. We must involve the UN."
The silence was suffocating. Then Matsuda's lips curved not into a smile, but into a blade.
"Very well. Draft the request. But until I stand before them, this remains Japan's affair. Find the cause. Find who breached our defenses. And above all… find the solution."
With that, he turned and strode out, leaving behind a room of trembling men and women.
Tokyo – The Ashes
Outside the Bureau, Tokyo was no longer a city. It was a wound.
Helicopters hovered low, their loudspeakers blaring evacuation orders. Reporters stood in rubble-strewn streets, their cameras shaking as they broadcast to the world.
Reporter (live, voice breaking):
"Shinjuku district is gone. Entire blocks collapsed under dragon fire. Casualty estimates exceed thirty thousand in this ward alone. Hospitals… hospitals can no longer take patients. People are being treated in schools, subway stations, anywhere with space…"
The camera panned burned-out cars piled like corpses, children crying as nurses applied bandages, soldiers dragging debris from collapsed buildings.
Hospitals overflowed. Hallways crammed with stretchers, blood dripping onto tile floors, doctors shouting over the chaos. A surgeon, hands red to the elbows, screamed for more saline. A nurse wept as she tried to resuscitate a child whose chest no longer rose.
Across the city, families searched frantically through shelters, clutching photographs of missing loved ones. "Have you seen him?" "Please, my daughter—she's only eight—"
Grief mingled with fury. Crowds gathered near the Bureau gates, shouting, demanding answers. Police struggled to hold them back.
An unknown man screamed at the camera where were the hunters
They promised us protection
This isn't protection !!!!
Within the Bureau's upper halls, the ministers regrouped with the President.
The Minister of Health wiped sweat from his brow.
"Mr. President, hospitals are breaking. We lack blood supplies. We lack beds. We lack—"
"Then requisition schools. Stadiums. Tents. This is war," Matsuda replied coldly.
The Chief Cabinet Secretary adjusted his glasses.
"International media is already swarming. CNN, BBC, Al Jazeera — they demand access. They're calling this 'The Night of Five Gates.'"
The Minister of Defense's face was gray.
"If more gates appear, Japan cannot survive. We must request allied forces—"
Matsuda's hand snapped up, silencing him.
"No foreign boots in Tokyo. Not until I say. Draft the UN request, but remember — we are not beggars. We are Japan."
The ministers fell silent.
Only Arisa spoke, voice low but firm.
"Mr. President. With respect… the world will come whether we ask or not. Today wasn't just a tragedy. It was a message."
The President's gaze lingered on her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Then, cold and calculating, he said:
"Then let the world come. And let them see: Japan will not bow. Not to monsters. Not to gods."