"Damn, which bastard in my past life said foreigners don't have social niceties?"
Sitting in the vast, empty, luxurious cabin, alone, Makoto finally shed all his tense pretenses. He leaned back slowly in his seat, letting out a long, silent sigh of relief in his heart.
'Finally took the bait...'
Yes, at this moment, his physical strength was exhausted, his Chakra nearly depleted. Not to mention flying back across the ocean, even maintaining a basic mental state was difficult.
Not being of true Uchiha lineage, forcibly activating his Complete Body Susanoo had pushed him to his absolute limit. He couldn't sustain it for long… his endurance was only slightly better than the Fifty-Fifty Kakashi.
After all, Kakashi could usually maintain his Sharingan under normal conditions, and Makoto could at least deactivate his manually.
But in the end, both lacked the inherent bloodline of the Uchiha Clan and simply could not maintain the Complete Body Susanoo freely and for extended periods like Sasuke or Madara.
However, if this secret were ever exposed to the Americans, it would invite a frenzied counterattack and a certain killing blow.
So, after destroying the two aircraft carriers earlier, Makoto chose not to stop immediately.
Instead, he drained the last remnants of his strength, forcibly crossed the Atlantic, and pulled off Zhuge Liang's specialty… the Empty Fort Strategy.
Because he understood all too well the deep-seated predatory nature of those across the Atlantic. Once they sensed he was at his limit, they would surely press their advantage.
His only way out was to make them believe he still held other cards, preventing them from acting rashly.
'Next time, I'll wipe you all out.'
Makoto closed his eyes slowly and began to recover his strength.
He couldn't stop training.
He needed to further strengthen his physique, at least significantly improve the endurance of his Complete Body Susanoo.
The next time he entered the Reincarnation Game, he had to find a way to become even stronger.
A few hours later, when the private jet landed smoothly at Tokyo's Haneda International Airport, most of Makoto's Chakra and stamina had already recovered.
Tokyo Haneda International Airport.
After a brief nap, Makoto's condition had already improved by more than half.
As he stepped down the boarding stairs, he was momentarily taken aback by the sight before him… the airport lobby was packed with a dark sea of people.
Half wore dark blue police uniforms, the half wore black suits and ties, clearly bodyguards.
"Susanoo-sama! You must be tired!"
At the forefront was an old man with slicked-back grey hair, a gaunt face, leaning on a cane carved with patterns of divine birds.
He led over a hundred bodyguards in black suits, emanating a solemn, imposing presence.
Simultaneously, the surrounding domestic and international reporters frantically clicked their shutters. A blinding cascade of flashlights turned the entire airport as bright as day.
Makoto's tone was flat, devoid of emotion. "Who are you?"
Seeing this, a middle-aged man in a police uniform with neat brown hair quickly stepped forward, his posture extremely deferential, and hastened to introduce him:
"Susanoo-sama, this is Japan's current highest-ranking official, Prime Minister Ooka."
Makoto glanced casually at this brown-haired middle-aged man, his gaze falling on the badge pinned to his chest. A name was clearly engraved on it—
'Hakuba?'
Makoto thought for a moment, vaguely recalling that in Detective Conan, there did seem to be a high school detective named Hakuba Saguru, but his appearance rate was far lower than Hattori Heiji's in Osaka, so he didn't leave a deep impression.
Next, Makoto's eyes landed on Hakuba's shoulder insignia… the five-star sakura emblem symbolizing the highest rank in the Japanese police.
His identity was clear: Superintendent General of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
Makoto's lips curled into a playful smile. "Oh, so it's the Superintendent General. Are you here to arrest me?"
"H-how could that be!"
Superintendent General Hakuba trembled violently, instinctively bowing deeply again, his voice quivering uncontrollably.
"I sincerely apologize! We were completely unaware of your true identity before and committed countless rude and offensive acts! I have already planned to disband the First Investigative Division to atone for our offenses! Will that be satisfactory?"
Makoto raised an eyebrow at this. "Identity? What identity?"
"Susanoo-sama, the entire world has now witnessed your divine might with their own eyes. There's no need for you to hide any longer!"
Prime Minister Ooka's face flushed red, his emotions reaching a fever pitch, his voice brimming with fervent worship and awe. "You are the reincarnation of Susanoo-sama, or perhaps the earthly agent he personally selected! A deity who saw Japan suffering in dire straits and descended specifically to save us!"
Makoto silently rolled his eyes internally, 'Earthly agent? This old man must have watched too much Ultraman.'
He hadn't intended to engage with this somewhat unhinged old man and was about to leave.
But Prime Minister Ooka's next statement instantly chilled Makoto's expression.
"Although you didn't completely finish off America in one fell swoop, we fully understand your grand ambition! You plan to deal with the surrounding small nations one by one, right? First take down the Koreans, then deal with the Filipinos, then the Russians, and finally cross the Atlantic to take care of America as well..."
Smack!
The crisp sound of bone snapping echoed suddenly!
Before Prime Minister Ooka could finish his sentence, the entire scene fell into dead silence—
Whether it was Superintendent General Hakuba beside him, the procession of bodyguards and police officers, the reporters frantically filming at the perimeter, or even the countless Japanese citizens watching on television, everyone was frozen in stunned disbelief, their minds blank.
The confident, eloquent Prime Minister Ooka from moments before now had his face twisted towards the back, staring in astonishment at Superintendent General Hakuba behind him. His neck had been completely wrenched around.
"If I hear talk like that again, everyone dies."
Makoto withdrew his hand, his tone flat yet carrying a suffocating murderous intent.
He originally couldn't be bothered to engage with these people.
But seeing Prime Minister Ooka's demeanor, acting as if they were on the same side, he felt utterly disgusted.
His use of Susanoo was like the martyrs of his past life using the enemy's guns to fight.
He didn't care about the source or type of power… as long as it was useful and could kill, that was enough.
Whether it was Susanoo, Super Saiyan, or magnetic field powers, it didn't matter.
Just because I use your gun, you think I'm on your side?
Were they getting too comfortable?
Makoto felt it necessary to remind these idiots of their place.
With those words, Makoto didn't look back again. He walked leisurely out of the airport lobby.
Behind him, Prime Minister Ooka, his neck now twisted into a rope-like shape, finally collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.
The airport, which had been bustling moments before, fell into absolute silence.
Seconds later, the reporters who had snapped back to reality frantically pressed their camera shutters.
Huge news!