(That cold sense of powerlessness, which almost froze his convictions, lasted only for a brief moment.
Kuchiba Hiro snapped his head up, the original confusion and wavering in his eyes replaced by a sharper, more determined light. He stared into Makima's golden-ringed eyes, which seemed capable of swallowing all emotion, and refuted her clearly, word by word.
"Your 'correctness' is merely a 'correctness' you've imposed on yourself."
Makima tilted her head slightly, that faint, all-knowing smile still playing on her face. She didn't seem surprised by his rebuttal; instead, she appeared more interested.
"Oh?"
"For the sake of a so-called 'greater probability of survival', you can arbitrarily decide whose sacrifice is 'necessary'? Whose life can be used as fuel to maintain your 'correct' world?" Kuchiba Hiro asked, his voice not loud, but carrying a decisive weight. "Who gave you this power? Who allowed you to play God and decide who lives and who dies?!"
He leaned forward, his gaze burning like a torch, as if trying to pierce through her calm facade.
"My father, and those who were silenced—they aren't cold numbers, not just variables in a probability model! They were living people! They had families, friends, and lives they wanted to protect! Their deaths are just a necessary price to maintain order in your eyes, but to me, they are an eternal wound and a blood debt that must be repaid!"
Makima listened quietly without interrupting, though the interest deep within her eyes seemed to intensify.
"You say the ark is for the 'masses,' and I'll take your word for it for now," Kuchiba Hiro said, his tone shifting to become incredibly heavy. "But that doesn't mean your methods are right! You use fear and slaughter to keep secrets, sacrificing some to trade for the survival of others. What's the fundamental difference between you and those financial conglomerates and Transcendents you loathe, who make the dark rules? You've just put on a more dignified face while exercising the same cruel 'divine authority'!"
He slowly straightened up. His shoulders, once tense with anger, relaxed slightly, but the resolve in his eyes was like tempered steel, even more indestructible.
"So, I've changed my mind."
"I'm no longer obsessed with finding and blowing up that 'ark' which might carry hope."
His gaze locked onto Makima with an unprecedented, clear sense of purpose.
"My revenge has taken a new form, a new target."
"What I want to challenge is you! It's the 'divine authority' you represent, which can arbitrarily decide the life and death of others and weigh human lives on a cold scale!"
"I will tear off your hypocritical mask of 'for the greater good' and make you and the cruel rules you've established pay the price for every 'necessary evil' you've committed!"
The air in the Izakaya seemed to vibrate from this declaration.
Kuchiba Hiro had found his footing again. He was no longer troubled by the nature of the "ark" itself, but instead pointed his spear directly at the absolute power behind it—that high-and-mighty power that disregarded individual lives. His revenge had evolved from destroying a specific object to challenging an unjust order.
Makima stared back at him silently for a few seconds, and then, the curve of her lips seemed to turn up by a fraction. She wasn't angry or mocking; instead, she said softly, in a tone almost bordering on admiration, "Very well."
At the very moment Makima's strangely appreciative "Very well" left her mouth—
"Clang—!"
A pure and extreme killing intent, like a blade drawn from its sheath, suddenly tore through the Izakaya's false peace!
All the hesitation, weighing of options, and considerations for the future in Kuchiba Hiro's mind were wiped clean at this moment! Only Makima's neck beneath her smiling face remained in his eyes, and only one soul-burning thought remained in his heart—
'Kill her!'
His actions were faster than his thoughts!
The ordinary black coat on his upper body squirmed and liquefied like a living thing within a thousandth of a second, turning into a viscous black fluid that rapidly spread and condensed down his arm! Almost as Makima's voice fell, a pitch-black longsword with sleek contours and an ominous glint was already gripped firmly in his hand!
No shout, no warning, only a black semi-circle moving at extreme speed, accompanied by a whistle that tore the air as it slashed across!
The gleam of the sword flashed past!
Time seemed to freeze for a moment.
The faint smile on Makima's face hadn't even fully faded. From beginning to end, her golden-ringed eyes held only indifference—or rather, a high-and-mighty, utterly unconcerned gaze from above.
And then—
Squelch!
A head with orange-pink braids and a delicate face, accompanied by a spray of warm blood, detached from the neck and flew upward!
The headless body remained in a seated position, blood gushing from the neck cavity like a fountain, staining the unfinished Udon and Yakitori on the table.
Inside the Izakaya, the laughter and chatter of other diners stopped abruptly, followed by an explosion of terrified screams!)
In the real world, the internet completely crashed the servers!
The live chat flooded everything like a tsunami:
"Holy shit!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Killed?! He just killed her like that?!!"
"Seventh Master is awesome!!! "
"Awesome my ass! Kuchiba Hiro, you lunatic! You idiot! You killed Makima, so who's going to lead the Ark Project?! Who's going to protect the rights of ordinary people?!"
"It's over! It's all over! He personally cut down the only hope!"
"Wake up, you commenters above! Is Makima some kind of saint? She kept saying it was for the people, but isn't she essentially a dictator who holds the power of life and death in her own hands?!"
"Exactly! What right does she have to decide who lives and who dies? 'Necessary sacrifice'?
P-lease! How is that any different from those financial conglomerates? She's just more hypocritical!"
"But... but without her keeping them in check, won't those lawless Transcendents and financial conglomerates be even more reckless? Then ordinary people won't have a shred of hope left!"
"Humans are so damn strange! Everyone clamors for freedom and doesn't want anyone over their heads. But when the person 'managing' you is gone, you're the first ones to get scared!"
"We need order! We need the strong to maintain basic fairness! Even if that strong person isn't perfect!"
"Bullshit order! An order maintained by fear and slaughter will eventually consume itself! I support Seventh Master! This kind of 'divine authority' should be shattered!"
"But what after he breaks it? Who's going to pick up this mess? Him? Does he even have the ability?"
"At least he dared to swing his sword! That's enough!"
Public opinion was completely split, with arguments, fear, anger, and confusion... all sorts of emotions clashing violently.
Many people subconsciously rely on some form of authority and order; even if that order is cruel, it's always better than complete disorder and the unknown. Others, however, could not accept this "big picture" at the cost of individual sacrifice, preferring to embrace chaos just to stand up for their humanity.
On the projection screen, the scene did not end with Makima's death.
(Kuchiba Hiro stood with his sword, blood slowly dripping from the black blade. He was panting heavily, not from exhaustion, but from the outpouring of killing intent and his highly strung nerves.
He looked at the headless corpse gushing blood, at the head that had rolled to the ground—covered in dust and blood, once beautiful and mysterious.
'Did he succeed?'
Just as this thought arose—
A sudden change occurred!
On that head, those golden-ringed eyes had not lost their luster; instead... they moved, their gaze crossing the distance of space to land precisely on Kuchiba Hiro's face with a hint of indescribable mockery.
At the same time, a calm, gentle voice, sounding as if it came directly from within his mind, echoed faintly:
"Is this your choice, Kuchiba Hiro?"
"Using violence to negate violence."
"Using slaughter to judge slaughter."
"Very interesting."
That headless body slowly stood up in a manner that defied all biological laws.)
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