Sima stood frozen for a long time, the silence of the massive hallway pressing against her ears. However, the silence wasn't absolute—the words of Yuichi continued to echo repeatedly in the chambers of her mind, vibrating with an intensity she had never felt before. "Kuhotsu Power!" Before this very moment, that term had felt like a hollow myth, nothing more than a bedtime fairy tale told to children to keep them away from the dark.
She swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry as sandpaper. She whispered under her breath, her voice trembling slightly, "But Yuichi... is it truly possible? Can a fragile, ordinary human body truly withstand such immense and overwhelming power? The sheer intensity of this energy... it feels like it should be enough to incinerate anyone's soul into ashes before they can even blink!"
Yuichi offered a faint, enigmatic smile—one completely devoid of mockery. Instead, it reflected the weary depth of a profound experience that seemed far too heavy for someone his age. Gazing toward the bleeding horizon visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he spoke in a calm, steady voice that carried the weight of history.
"Listen, Sima. In this world, Kuhotsu is the bridge between the impossible and the real. It gives form to what ordinary logic deems a miracle. Where human imagination reaches its limit, the play of this power begins its true dance. Do you see the colossal scale of this Genkasu Academy? This is not just a school, Sima. It is the cradle where the world's greatest Flares and the invincible M-class heroes are forged in fire. Within the microscopic cracks of every single brick lies a hidden history—a history written in the sweat, tears, and blood of thousands of students. They have all fought day and night, risking their sanity just to bring this colossal power under their control."
Toko and Sima stood up slowly, the rhythmic sound of their hands brushing the dust from their clothes being the only noise in the corridor. Before them stood a true marvel of modern architecture—Genkasu Taigasu Academy. The massive 28-story structure seemed to pierce the very heavens, its metallic skin reflecting the dying light of the sun.
At that precise moment, a rapid, frantic sound of pedaling approached from a distance. Kima came rushing toward them on a bicycle, his legs moving like pistons. His forehead was drenched in sweat, and his face was clouded with a frantic worry that bordered on panic. As he slammed on the brakes with all his might, the tires let out a sharp, ear-piercing screech that echoed off the academy walls.
"Sima! Toko! Are you guys okay? Tell me you're not hurt!" Kima shouted, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. "I heard a rumor back in the city... they said a Kimon was spotted in this direction! I thought... I thought I was too late!"
Sima narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're perfectly fine, Kima. But how did you suddenly get here? And more importantly, why on earth did you ride your bike all the way inside the academy campus? You know the rules."
Before Kima could even formulate a clumsy response, Sima and Toko, completely captivated by the haunting beauty of the campus, began walking forward. Their eyes were glued to a peculiar tower made of reinforced glass standing like a crystal sentinel in the center of the vast grounds. Kima stood alone for a moment, pouting like a rejected child and muttering under his breath.
"Always ignoring me... even though I came searching for them with my life on the line... I could have been eaten by a Kimon and they wouldn't even notice," he grumbled.
Sima looked back from a distance, a small, playful glint in her eyes. "You can come along if you want, Kima. Or are you planning to stand there and argue with your own shadow all evening?"
Kima's face instantly brightened, his gloom vanishing like mist in the sun. He quickly parked his bicycle against a pillar and sprinted to join them, his previous exhaustion forgotten in an instant.
Yuichi began guiding them through the heart of the campus. He described every detail with such surgical precision that it seemed he was intimately familiar with every speck of dust and every hidden circuit in the academy.
"This 28-story building you see—its central section is made entirely of a specialized, high-density solid glass. It's not just for the sake of aesthetics, Kima. It's a tactical design, engineered to absorb powerful Kuhotsu shockwaves or any immense external impact that could level a city block. The lower section of the building serves as our sacred Hall of Honor."
As they entered the hall, Toko's eyes widened to the size of saucers. The walls were adorned with countless gold and silver medals, each one glowing under the soft spotlight. Yuichi pointed toward a massive, life-sized photograph of a legendary team.
"Did you know, Kima? When a high-ranking team returns from a successful mission, grand concerts and festivals are organized in their honor. See these prize bonuses listed here? One Flare received nearly 50 million Yen after their final mission! It's not just about the money, though. It's a desperate reward from a world that knows it owes its survival to them. It's the price paid for the risks they took and their success in reigning in that overwhelming, destructive power."
Kima and Sima were stunned into a deep, heavy silence. 50 million Yen! Such wealth and social honor sounded like a distant, unreachable dream to students like them. But Yuichi's voice suddenly dropped an octave, turning cold and solemn. He stopped walking abruptly and turned toward them, his eyes seemingly fixed on something invisible. He asked, his voice barely a whisper yet louder than a shout, "But tell me... do you truly know what an X-grade Kimon is? Do you know the kind of entity whose name alone brings a cold, paralyzing sweat to the brows of world leaders and kings?"
[Part 4: The Blood-Red Hierarchy]
No one could answer. The air in the room felt like it had suddenly turned into lead. In a dark corner of the hall, a massive digital screen flickered to life, bathing their faces in an eerie crimson glow. The hierarchy of Kimon strength appeared in blood-red letters, a ledger of death that seemed to pulse with a life of its own:
X - 1: The Devastators. Direct followers of the ancient Gyotano. These entities are capable of wiping several sovereign countries off the map single-handedly. Their presence warps reality itself. It requires at least ten M-class masters, working in perfect synchronization, just to stand a chance of eliminating one.
XO - 2: Supreme-Level. High-powered Kimons that specialize in psychological warfare and mass destruction.
XOO - 3: High-Level. Powerful Kimons often used as the vanguard for total invasions.
XI - 4: Strong Mid-Level. Command units that lead smaller hordes.
XII - 5: Mid-Level Tier 2.
XIII - 6: Mid-Level Tier 1.
DX - 7: Primary Supreme-Level.
DL - 8: Primary Tier 3.
VX - 9: Primary Tier 2.
VL - 10: Primary Tier 1.
V - 11: The Scavengers. All other remaining weak Kimons that haunt the alleyways.
A cold, agonizing shiver ran down Sima's spine as her eyes scanned the list. The grades she had only known vaguely through rumors and half-whispered stories finally became terrifyingly clear. Yuichi continued, his gaze never wavering.
"Kuhotsu power is not a gift for everyone, Sima. Only those who possess 'Naiguru Cells' deep within the synaptic pathways of their brains can become a Kuhotsu Flare. These cells are found in only 20% of the entire human population. Only then can one use their sheer willpower and focused thoughts to manifest this energy. But never forget—this power is not infinite. It is a candle that burns twice as bright but half as long. For many, the amount they possess is far more than their mortal soul can handle."
[Part 5: The Secret of the Eternal Malice]
Kima, usually the one to make a joke, asked with a rare, trembling curiosity, "But Yuichi... what exactly is a Kimon? Are they demons? Or some kind of dark shadows from another dimension?"
Yuichi let out a heavy, soul-weary sigh. "No, Kima. Kimons are not from another world. They are prisoners of a malevolent force born from this very earth. They were created about 4,500 years ago through a horrific combination of human unfulfillment, sinister energy, and ancient, forgotten incantations. It has now become a cruel, fundamental law of this world. If a Kimon kills a human, that deceased person does not find peace. They are reborn as a Kimon themselves—not as a human with memories, but as an insatiable, vengeful entity. Their lingering agony and the weight of their past failures are the very things that fuel their horrific strength."
Yuichi stepped forward, his shadow stretching long across the floor. He placed his hands on the shoulders of Sima and Toko. A faint, electric tremor surged through their bodies at his touch, a spark of the power he carried.
"I don't know if you possess those Naiguru Cells. I don't know if your minds can withstand the crushing pressure of this immense power. But remember this: coming to Genkasu Academy means choosing to fight this energy until the very last second of your life. If you can prepare yourselves to face the abyss, you too can build a kingdom of light, just like the legendary Masters Moko or Hakami."
[Part 6: The Final Ultimatum]
Yuichi stopped abruptly. The crimson light of the dusk poured through the massive, reinforced windows of the hall, making the sky appear as though it were drenched in fresh blood. The clouds looked like bruised wounds across the horizon.
He clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white. "Remember, every single step you take within these walls is a gamble with your very existence. If you want to forge yourself into a Flare, you must be willing to take risks at every turn. Perhaps you will lose your life in a cold, lonely battle tomorrow morning. Or perhaps... you will become the savior that the future so desperately needs. So, I ask you one last time—are you truly ready to walk this burning path? Or will you retreat into the safety of your ignorance now?"
As his words hung in the air, the lights in the hall suddenly flickered and died with a sharp click. The entire academy seemed to transform into a silent, cavernous tomb. Sima could hear nothing but the frantic, rhythmic pounding of her own heart against her ribs. Toko and Kima looked at each other, their faces pale in the dim twilight.
Somewhere, high above them, perched atop the 28-story of Genkasu Taigasu Academy, an unknown future seemed to be watching them, waiting for their answer. A new era had begun—an era where the brutal struggle to survive would be the only joy they had left.