A quick glance at Rokutori Batsunsai, frozen like a wax statue, and Fujimiya Makoto made a split-second call: Gotta get outta here, pronto! With a furious roar, he bellowed:
"SATO!!"
Judging by his voice, you'd think the pig-faced guy in front of him had personally ruined his life, sworn enemy style.
In a grand, righteous tone, he demanded, like some samurai drama hero: "Casting kido in the dojo, trashing the library, bringing in outsiders—what the hell are you up to?!
Trying to get yourself kicked out of Genji Academy or what?!"
While spouting his speech to buy time, Fujimiya slipped away from his seat, carefully steering clear of Rokutori's murder-aura zone, which screamed instant death. One hand frantically unlocked his killing stone cuffs with a click-clack, while he shot Sato a death glare, as if giving him a chance to explain.
But in his head? Just wait till I get these cuffs off, buddy. I'm carving you into sushi. No mercy, no nice little expulsion!
"Attack!
Don't let him remove the killing stones!"
Too bad Sato wasn't into fair play. Without giving Fujimiya a second to "power up" like a shonen protagonist, he barked the order.
Fujimiya's eyes widened, outraged.
You dirty cheat!
The second Sato spoke, several black-clad figures leapt from the shadows, their short daggers stabbing with deadly precision, no time for cool one-liners.
Left cuff still on, Fujimiya's fingers grazed his sword hilt and drew in a flash.
"Clang—"
In the firelight, his blade traced a dazzling arc through the night, parrying the first attacker's weapon with a precise angle. Metal clashed, sparking in the dark.
In the same motion, he swung his left arm. The killing stone cuff, spinning like a makeshift flail, smashed into an enemy dagger with a sharp crack. Hard as rock, the stone blocked the strike, and the chain wrapped around the blade.
Fujimiya's eyes, glinting in the firelight, scanned left to right. A kick sent the right-side attacker flying, while a sharp tug on the chain yanked the other, blade trapped, right to him.
His right hand flipped the sword into a reverse grip. Thud—the blade sank into the guy's neck.
He pulled it out.
Blood sprayed, staining half his shihakusho.
[Zanjutsu +2]
Before the kicked guy could get up, Fujimiya vanished.
Shunpo.
When he reappeared, his blade pierced the man's chest.
[Zanjutsu +1]
Two kills in a heartbeat, no hesitation.
Killing stones?
Who says you can't kill with 'em?
But the other black-clad assassins seemed unfazed by their comrades' deaths. Seizing the brief moment, they'd prepped a synchronized kido, all aimed at Fujimiya.
"O sovereign! Mask of flesh and blood, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Heat and discord, rolling back across the sea to the south, march forward!
Hadō No. 31: Shakkahō!" x6
Six red fireballs, powered by full incantations, unleashed a threatening spiritual pressure.
As they shot forward, a wave of dust kicked up behind the assassins, shrouding the night.
"BOOM BOOM BOOM—"
Another surge of flames lit up the scene.
For dozens of meters, the night was swallowed by smoke, the temperature spiking sharply. Sparks danced in the air, illuminating Hachi Shinichi's battered face, a mix of rage and grim focus.
Years of infiltration, all for nothing.
If he wanted to return to the Seireitei without a death sentence, he needed a big win.
Too bad…
"Whoosh—"
A gust scattered the dust, carving a straight path.
Hachi's face tightened.
"Watch out!"
The moment he shouted, an assassin beside him was hit. His head snapped back at an impossible angle, nearly touching his spine.
Hachi's pupils shrank.
What had crushed the guy's face? A pure white killing stone cuff.
At the same time, a black shadow burst from the dust, trailing smoke, charging straight at Hachi.
"Clang!"
Without looking, Hachi parried on instinct, his reflexes razor-sharp.
His eyes followed the object: a beat-up sword sheath, spinning in the firelit night.
"Where is he?!"
Hachi spun, scanning his sides.
Then he saw the kido-casting assassins, lying lifeless on the ground.
Fujimiya, half-covered in blood, stood there, stone-faced.
His worn asauichi in hand, he stared at Hachi with a cold gaze, like he was already dead.
"Sato.
You're from the Seireitei, huh?
And here I thought you were cool."
Hachi, with his face swollen like a melon, nearly choked on his rage.
Cool?! Are you freaking kidding me?!
But a second later, he cooled off.
Why waste anger on a dead man?
A twisted grin spread across his puffy face:
"Fujimiya Makoto.
You think beating me a few times in hand-to-hand shows my real strength?
You've got no clue!
…about the gap between me, a member of a million-year-old Seireitei noble line, and scum like you!"
His voice rose, arrogant, booming.
Hachi, icy, raised his blade and shouted his shikai release:
"Spy from the shadows, Fushi—"
"WHAM!"
Before he could finish, Fujimiya's fist slammed into his nose, sending him tumbling through the rubble in a spectacular roll.
Cracking his knuckles, Fujimiya sneered: "You didn't think you were the only one who could interrupt a cast, did you?"
"…yami!!"
But before he could gloat further, a shrill, almost feral scream echoed from the ruins.
Fushiyami, huh?
A scorching spiritual pressure erupted, black mist pouring from the rubble, forming a clear energy pillar shooting into the sky.
Fujimiya narrowed his eyes, tossing his asauichi lightly, as if picking the perfect angle to strike.
In the ruins, Hachi struggled to his feet, blood streaming from his nose, strange shadows writhing under him.
His face, uglier than ever, oozed hatred.
"Fujimiya Makoto!"
The instant he roared, Fujimiya's heart skipped. His body sensed something, stepping back instinctively.
"Sshk—"
A thin, razor-sharp shadow stabbed up from the ground, sharp as a blade, tearing through his clothes where he'd stood a moment ago.
Without that step back, his leg would've been sliced clean off.
Then Hachi vanished, swallowed by the shadows.
Fujimiya's focus hit its peak.
Behind!
His instincts screamed. He spun, blade ready.
"Clang!"
Blades clashed, forces locked.
In the firelight, Hachi's bloodshot eyes burned with fury.
I'm gonna tear you apart!
His glare screamed it.