"It's... all set... sending the files tonight."
"Just... guaranteed it, absolute... satisfaction..."
"Pleasure doing business... once it's done... tomorrow..."
"I knew... choosing your side wouldn't be a mistake..."
Amidst the jolting of the car and the static of Hermann's phone call, Gojo Satoru remained conscious while maintaining the outward appearance of being comatose. Listening to the call, he gathered Hermann was speaking with a representative from the Casino family. His tone was relaxed; he clearly thought everything was under his control.
Satoru hadn't actually slept long. Hermann had boarded the car shortly after he lay down, accompanied by a personal bodyguard. The information provided by the Six Eyes told Satoru that besides the muscle-head in the passenger seat, a commercial van filled with Hermann's eyes and ears was following closely behind.
Looking further out... Gin had somehow swiped a black car from somewhere and was trailing the van at a steady pace. Setting aside the legality of the vehicle's source, do you even remember you don't have a driver's license? And managing to find the organization's signature color even now—what a dedicated model worker.
Vermouth was absent, likely handling other matters. Or... perhaps she intentionally wanted to see if he could complete the mission perfectly.
After a boring twenty minutes of idle thoughts, the car slowed to a halt, and the engine fell silent. Satoru kept his eyes closed, showing no sign of being awake. He was picked up by Hermann in a bridal carry, hearing the man grunt. "Tch... he's surprisingly heavy. That shouldn't be right."
Fortunately, Hermann didn't overthink it. He parked at a private villa and walked inside, leaving seven or eight black-clad bodyguards bowing to see him off at the door.
Good grief, such a big production. Someone would think you're the boss of the Black Organization.
Perhaps this man's business was indeed successful enough to be scouted by both the Organization and the Casino family. But tonight, his ambitions and his future would be shattered by Gojo Satoru's own hands.
Hermann carried the "girl" into a room. After flipping the switch, he laid her gently on a large bed covered in blue irises. Admiring the girl's butterfly-wing-like white lashes and her obedient, harmless, exquisite face, he acted as if he were treating a priceless doll in a display window, tenderly lifting a strand of her hair to sniff it.
This was a masterpiece of God, identical to his ideal, making him willing to risk everything to have her immediately. Even though the girl on the bed remained motionless, Hermann couldn't help but talk to himself, his refined exterior peeling away to reveal a manic expression unlike that of a normal person.
"God must truly pity me. To make up for my regrets, He sent you to me just as I was about to flee this land."
"Hailey..."
Before the words fully landed, the girl's eyelashes fluttered as she woke up. Those eyes—which looked as if stars were streaking across the night sky with every blink—stared straight at Hermann, making him even more obsessed and frenzied. "Ah, these eyes... incomparable."
His hands trembled as he reached out to cup the white-haired, blue-eyed girl's face, only to be lightly dodged.
"Hermann, what are you doing?" Hailey no longer seemed like the girl whose thoughts could be read at a glance. Her tone was cold now, a calmness so eerie it felt wrong.
The man froze, then laughed instead.
"Poor child. You've just woken up and don't understand the situation. Do you think you're still the young lady of the Grace family? You belong to me now, my most precious collectible. Tomorrow, I'm taking you with me to America."
The girl didn't turn pale with fear as Hermann expected. Instead, her expression remained indifferent as she posed a strange question: "Do you really think God pities you?"
"Of course. Otherwise, how could I have met you?" Hermann shook his head. "Hailey, I know losing your mother was painful, but it's alright. I'll treat you well from now on. We can be together forever, my baby..."
As he spoke, he reached out to slide his hand into the girl's collar. However, halfway there, his hand was gripped tightly by a fair, powerful hand.
Gojo Satoru dropped the act entirely, sneering in his original voice, "There is no God in this world. Even if there were, He'd have sent me to kill you. Got it?"
Hermann shuddered. His brain cooled instantly from its state of extreme euphoria. He tried to pull his hand back, but it felt as if it were pinned under a thousand-ton boulder.
"You—you're not Hailey! Who are you?!"
The previously harmless girl... no, the boy, narrowed his eyes at him, evoking the image of a dangerous apex predator. It was a complete departure from his previous fragility.
Crack.
Satoru effortlessly snapped the man's left hand. Hermann let out a blood-curdling scream.
"You're German, right? Ever heard of Kaiser beer?"
The man's pupils dilated, and sweat poured down his forehead.
Kaiserwin—the famous German dark beer. How could Hermann not know it? More terrifyingly, he finally realized where that nagging sense of wrongness came from. That terrifying organization that used liquor names as codenames was something he had never forgotten. Yet, he never imagined they would send a boy in drag to play a role and strike at his specific weakness.
"No... impossible! How could you be from that organization?! You're... you're Hailey, my most precious collectible, not some Kaiser—"
"Shut up. You're disgusting."
Gojo Satoru tossed away the long wig and tore off the cumbersome skirt. Bored, he kicked Hermann to the floor, stepping hard on his head until blood stained the ground. This bastard made him feel physically ill from head to toe.
Realizing he couldn't fight back, Hermann gave up resisting and began to beg.
"Cough... don't kill me... don't kill me. I'll give you money. Twenty million... no, fifty million... AAAAAAH!"
The sniveling, snot-covered man was so pathetic he wasn't even worth mocking. Satoru delivered another kick to his face, sending a few teeth skittering across the floor.
Seeing that the other was unmoved, Hermann slurred, "Are... aren't you afraid of my men coming in?!"
Satoru caught the scent of Gin approaching the villa and grinned.
"You have people? Well, I have people too."
Nice job, as expected of a model worker. He had originally planned to settle it himself.
Hermann heard the sounds of fighting erupt outside. As his hired experts went silent one by one, despair filled his heart.
"Kaiser... Lord Kaiser." He used all his strength to grab Satoru's shoe, pleading, "Please, ask that gentleman to forgive my transgressions... I'm still useful. I can be a spy for the organization within the Casino family... I—"
The response was a gun pressed against his temple. He went silent instantly. However, Satoru suddenly thought of something and slowly lowered the pistol.
Wild joy flared in Hermann's eyes. "You agree?"
The white-haired, blue-eyed boy put away the gun and pulled out a cold, gleaming dagger from somewhere. It was the MAD DOG PANTHER he had won in the sniping contest with Gin; he had used it for years.
"No." He hauled the bloody man off the floor, twirling the dagger in a beautiful arc. "Let's play a game."
"Wha... what?" A sense of impending doom washed over Hermann.
The boy flashed an innocent, child-like smile, but those blue eyes that were once mesmerizing now chilled him to the bone. Satoru handed the dagger to Hermann's still-functional right hand and said, "Shall we give it a try?" Then, he stood less than ten centimeters away, pointing to his own heart. "Stab me here."
What is this guy thinking? Is he insane?! Or does he enjoy toying with prey, watching their final struggles?
Hermann trembled, not daring to move, but the constant pain in his body was unbearable. Satoru's next words caused a bead of sweat to drop from his brow.
"My people are outside. Even if you escape this room, you have nowhere to go. But if you have the skill to finish me... maybe there's a sliver of hope."
"Huff..."
Hermann's eyes were bloodshot. His once-dignified appearance was now a wreck. Faced with a life-or-death crisis, he lost all reason. He slowly aimed the dagger at Satoru's heart. The boy just smiled, without a trace of fear. Satoru spread his arms wide, indicating he had no protection.
Is this kid actually crazy? Dissociative identity disorder? Regardless of his schemes, if I don't bet on this chance...
"Then go to hell!!" He lunged with all his strength, driving the blade toward the boy's vitals.
[Ding! Danger detected. Conditions for ability unlock met...]
[Ability Panel Upgrading... Passive Limitless Technique: Unlocked! Note: The system has automatically activated the passive technique. The host may deactivate it at any time.]
The dagger stopped firmly in front of Satoru's chest, unable to advance even a fraction of a millimeter. It was as if an invisible barrier was blocking all external harm.
"What is this?!"
Hermann never imagined a scene violating the laws of physics would happen before his eyes. No matter how hard he swung, the dagger's speed seemed to slow down the closer it got, eventually stopping entirely—like Achilles in the paradox, never able to catch the tortoise.
"Impossible... why won't it go in?"
After hundreds of useless attempts, the man fell to his knees in despair, the dagger clattering to the floor. His heart was now filled with a fear of something that existed beyond human understanding.
The unlocking of Limitless was within Satoru's expectations. The reason he invited Hermann to stab him was to place himself under extreme threat—the unlock condition he had guessed based on the original Gojo's experiences. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered if the gamble failed. The physical stats of the Six Eyes were strong enough to kill the opponent before the blade hit a vital organ.
"In that case... you're useless now. Go to hell, scum."
"Help... someone... help me..."
Hermann's eyes bulged in disbelief. His features contorted in pain, and a "he-he" sound escaped his throat like a broken kite. The white-haired, blue-eyed boy's face was splattered with blood, yet he looked hauntingly beautiful.
Looking at the mess in the room, Satoru sighed. Oops. I hated this guy so much I went a bit overboard. The scene is a disaster. I should have just used the gun.
Now he'd have to rely on Vermouth and the others to handle the clean-up.
He wiped his face, put the wig, skirt, and weapons into the system inventory, and pulled out a set of black casual clothes to wear. The inventory capacity was huge; it could hold almost anything. He had experimented on the isolated island before—live animals couldn't be stored, only inanimate objects.
Wait... Satoru suddenly had a bold idea. Could he put Hermann in there?
He tried to put the man into the system inventory. It actually worked. Hermann vanished, leaving behind only the traces that couldn't be erased. When he pulled him back out, there was no change in his state.
With this, as long as he had the system inventory, no one would ever find any evidence. Wasn't this a perfect crime? But he was a handsome, kind-hearted person, not some terrifying dark force.
Looking at the bloodstains on the door, "Kaiser" rubbed his chin. Better let the Organization people handle this; he'd ignore it for now.
"Tch..."
Since unlocking the technique, his eyes were receiving even more information, causing a slight stinging sensation. For example, even looking at an unremarkable vase, his eyes would provide a detailed analysis of its material, age, whether it could be used as a lethal weapon, and even pick up on the emotions others felt toward it—like tension or affection.
Sounds like I'm suited to be a detective. I can commit the perfect crime and analyze cases. I'm basically a combination of Holmes and Moriarty.
Speaking of cases...
Satoru closed his eyes and sensed the entire villa. There was a basement in the house, and inside were several signs of living people, though their presence was much weaker than a normal person's. He couldn't determine the specifics yet. Recalling Hermann's mention of "little pets"...
He had to investigate.
Leaving the room, Satoru first headed to the main hall. As expected, it was filled with the bodies of bodyguards. Gin was on the side making a call, seemingly contacting Vermouth. He looked lethal, half of his pale face illuminated by the moonlight while the other half remained hidden in the grim darkness.
"Solved?"
"Yeah, I made a bit of a mess. Needs some hands to clean up," Satoru said. "I have something else to do. Wait for me."
Gin asked nothing, simply replying, "Understood. Don't be too long."
Satoru waved his hand and walked toward the direction of those faint presences. Shortly after, he found the basement entrance hidden under the stairs on the second floor.
Stone steps led downward, flanked by flickering wall lamps that cast long shadows. The air was thick with a damp, moldy smell. Halfway down, however, his path was blocked by a locked door.
He considered breaking it down but worried it might trigger a sensitive reaction from whoever was inside. Satoru checked the not-yet-cold Hermann and found something on him. Sure enough, in his shirt pocket... was a key.
Satoru took out the key and turned it in the lock.
Click.
The door opened.