"This guy…"
Hearing Hojo Yoru's blatantly arrogant words, several of the executives present couldn't help frowning.
He wanted them to send multiple investigators at once—and only so he could "enjoy himself"?
"This kid's way too full of himself! Does he really think our investigators are useless?!"
A man with round glasses, his collar pulled up to hide the lower half of his face and his hair spiking upward, slapped the table and stood, his tone rough and impatient.
"I'll go kill that bastard and teach him how brutal the investigators' world really is!"
"Associate Special Class Hachikawa, please calm down."
A middle-aged woman in a business suit tried to dissuade him.
"If you go in with that kind of emotion and lose control—whether you kill him by accident or he kills you by accident—either outcome is an irreparable loss for us. This is only a combat capability assessment. There's no need to turn it into a fight to the death."
"Uh… sorry to interrupt for a moment."
At that moment, Upper First Class Investigator Fukada spoke up.
As merely an Upper First Class, he didn't have the standing to sit at this level of meeting. He had been standing to the side, listening the whole time.
"I think…"
He glanced at Associate Special Class Hachikawa and spoke carefully, as if testing the waters.
"I don't think the question is whether Associate Special Class Hachikawa should spar with Mr. Hojo. The question is who else we should send with him."
"Huh?"
The executives all looked surprised. And Hachikawa—already visibly irritable—knit his brows and snorted, his voice dripping with impatience.
"Fukada, you're overthinking it. I'm Associate Special Class. Even against ghouls terrifyingly strong, I'm confident I can fight them alone. No matter how outrageous this guy's athletic ability is, he's still just an unarmed human, isn't he?"
With the other man speaking so bluntly, Fukada—one rank lower—couldn't press the point.
Most of the Bureau still underestimated the power of devils.
It was human nature. The Anti-Devil Special Operations side treated ghouls like small fry; the Ghoul Countermeasure Bureau treated devils as "easy." Both looked down on the other.
Aside from the rarely seen Special Class investigators, Associate Special Class Hachikawa Tadashi was already top-tier within the Bureau.
If his opponent was Tokyo's strongest devil hunter, it might be troublesome—but he didn't believe he would lose.
…
Five minutes later, inside a broad training facility.
The Bureau's leadership watched from behind thick bulletproof glass on both sides, while Hachikawa—holding a silver suitcase—stood at one end of the floor. He stared at Hojo Yoru on the opposite side, thirty meters away, and spoke coldly.
"The weapons are over there. Pick whatever you want. When you're ready, we start."
Hojo glanced at the rack beside him: everything from short knives and other cold steel to shotguns and rifles.
He didn't take a single weapon.
Instead, he looked at Hachikawa across the floor and shook his head with clear disappointment.
"How boring. One Associate Special Class is already underwhelming—but you're the only one here? This is pathetic."
"You—!"
Hachikawa's temper was bad to begin with. Hearing Hojo's dismissive arrogance pushed his rage over the edge. Without waiting for any executive order, he snapped his suitcase open. It unfolded and transformed into a spiral-shaped quinque that wrapped around his right arm.
"Break into pieces, you arrogant bastard!!"
He raised the quinque and fired several beams like cannon blasts.
To the executives' shock, Hojo didn't mount any real counterattack—he simply started dodging, looking almost awkward doing it.
The next few minutes stayed the same: Hachikawa attacked relentlessly; Hojo kept moving and evading. He wasn't hit, but anyone could see he was in a total disadvantage—he didn't even manage a proper retaliation.
"This…?"
The scene was so unexpected that the executives exchanged looks, their faces full of confusion.
That's it?
This devil hunter named Hojo Yoru strutted around like a god, but his ability was only this?
And someone like this was Tokyo's top devil hunter by record? How weak were devils supposed to be?
A middle-aged executive watched the fight and spoke heavily.
"Looks like the so-called strongest devil hunter is only at this level. He killed a few ordinary ghouls and thought he was stronger than an Associate Special Class investigator… He's just a high school kid, after all—too arrogant, too confident."
Upper First Class Fukada, far more experienced in real combat, frowned hard.
Something felt… wrong.
Then, suddenly, the situation changed.
Bang!
Perhaps the constant high-speed movement had drained him more than expected—Hojo failed to evade in time. A beam struck his left shoulder, the impact driving him several meters backward.
Unlike the executives who immediately lit up with satisfaction, Fukada's expression tightened.
He finally understood what had been "off."
"He's testing Investigator Hachikawa's strength—and the quinque's firepower…"
In that instant, Fukada remembered an encounter he'd once had with a truly powerful ghoul.
A rookie investigator might not manage it, but anyone seasoned could often judge a ghoul's danger before the fight began—not by size or appearance, but by presence.
A normal ghoul, even if it tried to look calm, carried the unmistakable panic of someone hunting for an escape route.
A powerful ghoul didn't.
Instead of thinking about running, it thought first about how to kill the investigator—this was the difference between facing an enemy and facing prey.
And Hojo Yoru—whether he was dealing with Fukada and Second Class Nakagawa, or facing Associate Special Class Hachikawa now—
carried the same aura.
The aura of a predator looking at prey.
"Heh."
On the floor, Hojo raised his right hand and lightly brushed at his left shoulder.
What made both Hachikawa and the watching executives go rigid with disbelief was this:
Even after being hit head-on by the quinque beam, Hojo's left shoulder hadn't shattered.
It wasn't even blown apart.
There were only faint scorch marks.
It looked like an injury—but it clearly didn't affect his ability to fight.
Hojo lifted his gaze to Hachikawa, glanced once at the quinque coiled around his right arm, and smiled.
"Is that all you've got?"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 100)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 100)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter89)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter86)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter63)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter75)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 53
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 57
From Junkman to Wasteland 35
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 26
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