Night fell.
Mahiro lay on the hotel bed, waiting for a call.
Due to Watanabe Mari's accident and the need to deal with the No Head Dragon, his planned dinner with Sayaka had fallen through.
So they rescheduled for breakfast.
However...
"It's so late, and the call still hasn't come... Whatever, I'll take a quick nap."
It was already eleven o'clock.
Feeling slightly drowsy, Mahiro decided to rest for a bit.
But shortly after closing his eyes, he heard the sound of the room door being unlocked.
Then the bed dipped, and something heavy pressed down on him.
"Ayako... Didn't we agree to call? Why the nighttime ambush instead?"
Opening his eyes, he was met with wine-red eyes brimming with dissatisfaction.
The doll-like delicate girl from daytime now had her hands on his chest, sitting atop him, her warmth and softness palpable.
"Mahiro, do you dislike Ayako?"
Ayako answered his question with another, her form of address having changed.
"No more 'big brother'?"
Mahiro felt a twinge of nostalgia.
The last time she'd called him that was probably ten years ago, during their first meeting.
Back then, Ayako had been a genuine little girl.
He'd been stunned at first sight—she looked exactly like Maya!
Since then, Kuroba Ayako would often visit him at the Fourth Research Institute. In a way, he'd watched her grow up.
Come to think of it, was this some kind of alternate Genji Plan?
"Stop changing the subject!"
Just as his thoughts wandered to the past, Ayako's resentful voice pulled him back to reality.
Seeing her pout with clear dissatisfaction, Mahiro couldn't help but smile.
"How could I? What reason would I have to dislike the adorable Ayako?"
"Then why did Mahiro reject Lady Maya's marriage proposal?"
At Ayako's question, Mahiro's hand, which had been about to touch her curly hair, froze mid-air.
Here it comes, as expected.
"But this humble girl really likes Mahiro..."
Using her peculiar speech mannerisms, Ayako complained, her wine-red eyes meeting his briefly before she shyly nestled against him.
Hearing such words from a girl her age, in this manner, felt... somewhat strange?
Especially with that face bearing a seventy percent resemblance to Maya.
It felt like that woman was coquettishly clinging to him.
Hard to keep a straight face.
"Alright, let's save this discussion for later. Right now, we have work to do. You're still just a junior high student—we'll talk when you become a high schooler!"
"Ugh, Mahiro-kun always brushes Ayako off with excuses like this..."
Even so, it could still be considered a promise of sorts.
A peculiar glimmer of anticipation flickered in Ayako's eyes.
...
...
...
After enduring Ayako's brief nighttime ambush, they set off.
Mahiro changed his clothes and headed straight for the hotel's underground parking lot.
There, a long black Mercedes had been waiting for some time. Mahiro walked over and pulled open the door.
"Mahiro-nii!"
The moment the door opened, Fumiya greeted him enthusiastically from inside.
However, Fumiya looked completely different from his usual frail, young master appearance—now, he was far more... cute.
Yes, cute.
Like Ayako, he had a pair of mesmerizing wine-red eyes, along with lipstick that didn't suit his age.
He wore a black short wig with a white hairband and had changed into a black dress, tights, and knee-high black boots.
At a glance, he looked just like a short-haired version of Yotsuba Maya!
"Mm. Fumiya, I'll be counting on you and Ayako this time."
Mahiro merely glanced at him, nodded in acknowledgment, and showed little reaction.
He was already used to it.
Since they couldn't reveal their identities during the operation, and Fumiya's magic attributes made him suitable as the primary attacker, Ayako had dressed her adorable little brother up as an equally adorable young girl—all under the noble pretext of "disguise."
This wasn't the first time they'd done this, either.
Though the first time, Fumiya had been extremely shy around people.
But as time passed and the instances piled up, even he had grown accustomed to it.
Truly.
Cross-dressing was a matter of zero times or countless times.
However, once Mahiro got into the car, Fumiya spotted Ayako following behind and immediately grumbled unhappily:
"Nee-san, you're so slow! We agreed on ten minutes, but it's already been half an hour! If you keep this up, Maya-sama will scold you!"
"Oh~ Fumiya, are you trying to lecture your big sister? You're still a hundred years too early for that."
Ayako, already seated in the car, merely gave him a sidelong glance.
Fumiya instantly stiffened, shrinking back without another word.
Indeed, older sisters had a natural advantage—an innate suppression—over their younger brothers.
And it didn't matter how old they got; that fact never changed.
After a while, the parked Mercedes slowly pulled out of the hotel's underground parking lot.
Unbeknownst to them, in another corner of the parking lot, a business van was also parked.
About ten minutes after their departure, it too drove out of the hotel, heading in the same direction as them.
...
"The primary target of this operation is the [Grand Hotel] in Yokohama's Chinatown—it's the hiding place of [No Head Dragon]'s Eastern Japan headquarters."
"Among the members are—Douglas Huang, the leader of the main and branch divisions, executives James Zhu, Gregory..."
Late at night.
The vehicles had already arrived at Yokohama's Chinatown, and after completing all preparations, they crouched on the rooftop of a building.
Under the quiet, bustling neon-lit night, Mahiro sat on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling in the air.
While listening to Fumiya's intelligence summary, he gazed at the brightly lit high-rise banquet hall in the distance.
"By the way, Mahiro-nii, aren't you going to change your clothes for disguise?" Fumiya suddenly asked.
"Hm?"
Hearing Fumiya's words, he instinctively looked down at himself.
The pure white school uniform did stand out quite a bit at night.
"Then I'll change."
With a thought, Mahiro enveloped himself in psions, forming a [shell] around his body as his external information body began to restructure.
Though his physique didn't change much, his clothing, appearance, and even hair color underwent a dramatic transformation.
His short black hair turned into long silver strands, gently swaying in the night breeze.
A pair of crimson eyes seemed capable of reflecting the starry night.
Even his school uniform transformed into a pure black tailcoat.
The usual gentle and refined aura had completely vanished, replaced by an air of noble yet sinister charm, adding an alluring edge.
Though still handsome, his current appearance carried an almost bewitching beauty.
From afar, he looked like a noble silver-haired reaper.
Witnessing Mahiro's transformation, the Kuroba siblings couldn't help but exchange glances.
In each other's eyes, they saw awe.
Mahiro-nii is really strong—he can even use the Kudou family's "Parade" so flawlessly, without a hint of incongruity.
Perhaps only Kudou Retsu, Maya-sama's teacher, could match this level of skill?
"Alright, as per the usual routine, let's begin."
"Yes!"
...
Meanwhile.
"Damn it! Our inside man failed!!!"
In the same luxurious private room, with the same group of people, the table was once again laden with exquisite dishes.
And just like last time, no one had touched them.
The faces of those seated around the round table were visibly contorted with anger.
"Is it that high schooler, Yotsuba Mahiro again?"
"Exactly! Who else could it be but that brat?!"
James gnashed his teeth and slammed the table, rattling the dishes.
"Damn it, so what if he's a Yotsuba magician? Doesn't he know the simplest principle—'Standing in the way of profit is like killing one's parents'?!"
"If push comes to shove, let's just fight them!" someone suggested. "What's so great about the Yotsuba? The mastermind behind the Great Dahan incident, Yotsuba Genzou, is long dead, and even the Ruler of the River of Oblivion has been buried for three years. The only one left in the Yotsuba family is Yotsuba Maya."
"Do they really think we're afraid of the Yotsuba?!"
"Oh? So you're not afraid, huh?"
Just as the discussion reached its peak, an unfamiliar young voice suddenly cut into their conversation.
"Who's there?!"
Everyone broke out in a cold sweat, but when they turned around, they saw nothing but their own bodyguards.
Was it just their imagination?
Just as that thought crossed their minds—
Suddenly.
The southern wall was blown open with a massive hole.
Not smashed, not slowly cut, not shattered—but simply vanished.
As if disintegrated, the concrete wall turned into dust and crumbled instantly. Even the steel bars, plates, and wiring embedded within were cleanly dismantled.
Everyone present was drenched in cold sweat.
This room was supposed to be reinforced—strong enough to withstand C4 explosives, practically an impregnable fortress!
And yet now...
"Who the hell is it?!"
"Stop shouting. I'm right here."
The voice spoke again, this time accompanied by its owner.
Everyone turned toward the source and immediately widened their eyes in shock.
A silver-haired man had appeared out of nowhere, sitting casually on the edge of the round table, idly flipping a black dagger in his hand, one leg crossed over the other with an air of leisurely ease.
Naturally, it was Mahiro in his transformed state.
As for his method of entry—that was Ayako's magic, "Mock Teleportation."
By enveloping herself or allies in a cocoon of air to neutralize inertia, then traversing a vacuum channel in an instant, she could achieve long-distance movement.
The effect was indistinguishable from true teleportation.
Of course, Ayako's magical power alone couldn't cover such a distance.
But in his hands, it was a different story.
Anywhere within his line of sight was within reach.
"Hey, everyone. You've given me quite the hospitality during the Nine Schools Competition, so today, I've come to return the favor."
"Everyone, attack! Kill him!!!"
The moment he finished speaking, the executives barked orders, commanding the bodyguards—the Generators—to strike.
"How pitiful."
Looking at the burly men in black surrounding him, Mahiro murmured regretfully.
Generators were magicians who had been stripped of their consciousness, their bodies repurposed as mere vessels for casting spells—essentially, the tragic end of magicians turned into weapons.
This technology was especially rampant in the USNA, the so-called "land of human rights."
'Seems they've got ties with the USNA too…'
With that thought, Mahiro casually snapped his fingers.
With a crisp sound, the burly men instantly disintegrated into nothingness, returning to dust.
"...My No. 14... No. 16... W-what kind of monster is this guy?!"
Watching the high-priced Generators he'd bought from the USNA vanish without a trace, a middle-aged man in a designer suit, fingers adorned with glittering gemstones, clawed at his cheeks and let out an undignified scream.
As an executive of No Head Dragon, when had he ever witnessed such a scene?
"How noisy. What the hell are you babbling about?"
Mahiro frowned and flicked the dagger sideways.
The man who had been shouting and cursing in English was instantly reduced to nothing but a handful of ashes settling on the carpet.
"Gregory!" Douglas howled, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
"Oh, so that was Gregory."
Mahiro chuckled softly.
To them, his voice was more terrifying than a demon's.
"W-who are you?! What grudge do you have against us?!"
"Stupid question. Next."
Another flick of the dagger, and another life vanished.
Now, the remaining few didn't dare speak, barely daring to breathe.
Meanwhile, behind him, one person was stealthily inching toward the door.
When he was less than three meters away,
He lunged—
Not for the door, but for the landline phone beside it.
"How foolish."
"Hey, get in here! There's an intruder!!!"
The man screamed into the phone, but no response came.
The others followed suit, hastily pulling out their wireless devices.
But there was no signal.
"Sigh. Calling you idiots would be an insult to idiots. If I'm here, of course I've jammed all communications. Isn't that obvious?
And you just wasted your one chance to escape."
With an air of detached amusement, Mahiro muttered regretfully.
Another wave of psions spread out, and over half of the remaining people disappeared.
Now, only three were left.
"James!!!"
Watching his comrades vanish before his eyes—
Erased in a manner that denied even the dignity of a human death,
Douglas's mind was on the verge of collapse.
Only now did he realize—the man before him was a demon in every sense of the word!
Even more terrifying than their own leader!!!
And this scene stirred a long-buried memory—a similar incident in Okinawa.
"That magic that erases everything... Y-you... You're the Okinawa Demon, Mahesvara!"
"?"
Mahiro slowly tilted his head in confusion.
Did he just accidentally make Tatsuya take the blame again?
Well, no matter. That guy had official backing anyway—a few more debts wouldn't hurt.
Thinking this, his lips curled into a grin as he slowly turned to the last few survivors.
And then—
Thud!
Douglas, the leader of No Head Dragon's Japan branch, dropped to his knees.
"Please spare me! I'll tell you anything you want to know! I'll do anything, anything!"
Begging on his knees, tears streaming down his face—utterly devoid of dignity.
This sight was truly rare.
"Really? You'll do anything?"
"Yes!" Douglas nodded his head like a chicken pecking at rice. "As long as you spare me, I'll do anything within my power! I'll withdraw from the Nine Schools Competition, leave Japan—I'll even give you all my money! Just let me live!"
The terror this man before him inspired had surpassed even his fear and loyalty toward his leader.
"Good. Then deliver a message for me—to your leader, Richard Sun. Tell him I'll be coming for tea soon."
"Y-yes! I'll definitely pass on your message!"
Douglas was startled at first, but then he quickly nodded in agreement.
Though he feared his leader, he feared this demon even more!
"Oh, and one more thing. About me being Maheśvara—you all better keep that a secret, understand?"
"U-understood! We won't tell a soul." The men nodded in unison.
"Good answer. I like that."
Mahiro bent down and patted Douglas on the shoulder.
Just as the man let out a sigh of relief, Mahiro suddenly swung his dagger in a swift motion.
The men only saw the thin blade trace a black line in front of them.
Douglas and his trusted subordinates vanished from this world without a trace.
Moments later, a blizzard descended, freezing the top floor of the restaurant solid.
....
...
..
At the same time.
Yotsuba Maya, who had yet to leave the hotel, remained in the VIP reception room.
However, seated across from her was an elderly man, his aged face stern and solemn.
"Madam, your tea."
Hayama placed a freshly brewed herbal tea before her.
Maya lifted the cup, inhaling the delicate, soothing fragrance wafting from it with evident pleasure.
"Kudou-sensei, are you sure you won't try Hayama's craftsmanship?"
"No need," the old man refused sternly.
"Is that so? What a shame..." A faint, amused smile curled at Maya's lips. "You know, Kudou-sensei, Hayama put a great deal of effort into perfecting this tea—even integrating magic into the process."
"Such refined use of magic—I doubt even you, hailed as the most skillful magician, could replicate it, could you?"
"No, Madam. When it comes to the finesse and precision of magic, no one surpasses the Master," Hayama replied humbly.
Perhaps it was just casual conversation. Or perhaps it was a provocation. The back-and-forth between master and servant played out like a performance in Kudou Retsu's eyes.
A performance staged solely for him.
Yet, the old man remained patient, not uttering a word.
Noticing this, Maya set her cup back on the tray and met the elder's gaze.
But it was Kudou Retsu who spoke first.
"Maya, it's been a long time since we last sat together like this, hasn't it?"
"Yes, it certainly has been."
As if reminiscing, Maya tilted her gaze slightly upward, smiling as she confirmed, "The last time was after my sister's funeral. It's been nearly three years since we last met."
"Three years, huh..."
Retsu also seemed to drift into memories, murmuring with a hint of emotion, "Though only a short three years, you've changed greatly, Maya."
"Hehe, indeed. Time spares no one." Maya chuckled lightly. "But you've changed too, Sensei. At ninety years old, you've grown even older..."
"No."
Retsu cut her off. "I'm not referring to age. I mean you've grown even more deranged, Maya."
At this, Maya covered her lips with one hand.
"My, Sensei, whatever do you mean? Compared to the past, I've mellowed quite a bit."
Though she feigned slight surprise, the corners of her alluring crimson lips curled into a dangerous arc.
True, compared to before, her actions had become more restrained.
If that were all, Retsu wouldn't have said such a thing.
But—
"You released him. Isn't that madness enough?"
Retsu's tone sharpened, carrying a hint of accusation absent from his earlier calm.
Maya tilted her head like a puzzled little girl, as if struggling to grasp what her teacher meant.
"Oh? Sensei, surely you're not referring to little Mahiro?"
"But 'released' isn't quite the right word. It's just that this twisted mother finally had a change of heart."
As she spoke, a tender smile graced Maya's face.
"Now, I'm simply doing what any mother should—letting my child go to school, make friends."
"And indulging him a little, fulfilling his whims and desires—does that really count as madness?"
"Your intentions go beyond that, Maya."
"And what intentions do you think I have, Sensei?"
Still smiling, Maya took a sip of tea, moistening her throat—or perhaps giving the old man time to think.
After a moment, she leisurely set the cup down, interlacing her fingers over her abdomen before continuing.
"I've never been able to control that child. You of all people should know that."
"And you should also know exactly how that child came to be."
Retsu: "..."
The old man fell silent.
What Maya said—he did know.
Yotsuba Mahiro was an ill-omened existence, a child of sin from the moment of conception.
Gazing at this woman before him, Retsu sometimes found himself nostalgic for the days when he had taught her and her sister as his disciples.
But everything changed when Maya was twelve.
That year, Miya, Maya, and the current head of the Saegusa family, Saegusa Kouichi, among others, attended a youth magician exchange hosted by the Asian branch of the International Magic Association as part of a goodwill delegation.
Then, unidentified terrorists struck.
In the chaos, to protect Miyuki, Maya was abducted. And in the struggle to retrieve her, Saegusa Kouichi was gravely injured, losing an eye.
By the time the Yotsuba family identified the terrorists and rescued Maya, three days had passed.
Three whole days.
For three days, Maya was subjected to inhumane human experimentation before her uterus was extracted for magician cultivation experiments.
As a result, Maya was left permanently infertile.
After her return, she repeatedly attempted suicide, her mind teetering on the brink of collapse. In the end, it was her elder sister, Yotsuba Miya, who used her exceptional magical abilities to convert Maya's traumatic "experiences" into "knowledge," pulling her back from the edge of psychological death.
But from that day on, Yotsuba Maya was effectively dead.
The person before him now was merely a shell—a vessel driven by hatred, continuing to "live."
Yes, Yotsuba Maya hated.
She hated everyone.
She hated this cruel, senseless world that had stolen her past, her future, and her happiness as a woman.
She wished—she prayed—for this world's destruction.
Then, by chance, Miya became pregnant.
And so, she poured all that hatred into the child growing in Miya's womb.
Under her fervent prayers, Miya's belly swelled day by day.
Perhaps her madness and hatred reached their peak.
And so—
A miracle truly descended.
Following Miya's pregnancy, Maya herself also became pregnant!
But to be precise, it wasn't her body—but her organ that conceived.
That uterus, forever preserved in the depths of the Fourth Research Institute, floating in nutrient fluid—unable to be reinserted, unable to nurture anything—began to grow, nurturing new life within it.
As if answering her madness.
As if resonating with her hatred.
And thus, Yotsuba Mahiro was born.
A cursed child, blessed from birth.
With eyes cursed to perfectly replicate any magic, any technique, after seeing it just once.
Yet—
The Yotsuba family deemed this bloodline filthy.
Many believed it was the success of the Great Dahan's experiments—that Mahiro was the most tainted lineage, born from Maya's organ as a vessel.
Only Maya knew the truth.
This was a miracle bestowed upon her by the gods!
Just like the miracle that was magic itself—a fairy-tale creation!
And so, she poured her heart and soul into shaping this child into the avenger she desired.
Even before birth, she subjected him to genetic modification, crafting him into a masterpiece surpassing even Miyuki—the Fourth Research Institute's crowning achievement!
Then, she leveraged every connection to educate him, to make him learn, to make him grow.
As a weapon, as an avenger, Yotsuba Mahiro was undoubtedly perfect.
But now—
"You released him."
And alongside Shiba Tatsuya, no less.
Other families might not know, but Kudou Retsu was well aware of Tatsuya's true identity.
He was the child of the elder twin sister—another ominous, formidable existence.
And now, Maya had placed them together!
"What exactly are you planning, Maya?"
This was the second time Retsu scrutinized his former disciple.
But Maya's answer remained unchanged—
"I just want to be a good mother and give him the very best, Kudou Se~n~sei."
"Enough. In that case, let's end our discussion here."
Retsu gave up.
He knew he wouldn't get any answers from this disciple.
"Then rest well, Sensei. The Nine Schools Competition must be keeping you quite busy, no?"
The words seemed comforting and considerate, but only if Maya didn't have that eerie, amused smile hanging on her face.
It carried a faint hint of mockery.
Retsu did not respond.
But just as he was leaving, the old man suddenly spoke—
"Mahiro left the Nine Schools dormitory tonight, didn't he? However, the Independent Magic-Equipped Battalion also took action tonight."
"Is that so?"
A reminder laced with a warning, yet Maya remained utterly indifferent. "Thank you for the reminder, sensei."
And with that, Retsu departed.
Meanwhile, Maya, reclining on the sofa, picked up her warm teacup and gazed at her reflection in the clear liquid before letting out a soft laugh.
"This might be the first clash between Tatsuya and little Mahiro. I wonder what they'll end up doing..."
....
...
..
Rewind the clock by about ten minutes.
"Lieutenant Fujibayashi, the mission failed. We were too late."
"Understood. Then return, Lieutenant Colonel Shiba. But who exactly—"
"It was Yotsuba Mahiro, Lieutenant."
The moment Tatsuya uttered that name, he could practically hear the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the comms.
"To think it was him... Could it be related to the previous [Blanche] incident?"
Tatsuya did not answer.
Because he, too, had no idea why Mahiro had acted this time. Even after witnessing the complete annihilation of the No Head Dragon's Japanese branch firsthand, he couldn't discern a motive.
"Perhaps... it was for the sake of a First High student."
After much deliberation, this was the only conclusion Tatsuya could reach.
"Very well. We'll withdraw, Lieutenant Colonel Shiba."
The communication ended there.
Tatsuya watched Mahiro, who had exited the restaurant still maintaining his "Procession of Masks" state, for a brief moment before turning away and returning to the business vehicle parked in a secluded spot.
Indeed, there had been no friction between him and Mahiro.
Their objectives aligned—there was no conflict.
Still, had he not noticed Mahiro using his own "Mist Dispersion" technique while disguised, he might have actually engaged him in a test of skill.
Meanwhile.
Though Mahiro hadn't directly crossed paths with Tatsuya, he was intercepted by a strange individual upon leaving the restaurant.
A man.
Around twenty-five years old, exuding the air of a nobleman. His shoulder-length hair and slender purple bangs partially obscured his handsome yet sinister face.
However, he seemed to be employing some peculiar magic, stepping forward with an odd gait as he openly approached Mahiro.
"Qimen Dunjia?"
Had there been a geomantic compass beneath the man's feet, it would have clearly shown that each step he took aligned with a specific direction.
Yet, the man seemed surprised that his secret technique had been recognized.
"Impressive, impressive. You actually recognized it. But this isn't Qimen Dunjia—it's Guimen Dunjia." (T/N: I couldn't find any magic or spells with this name. If you find them, please let me know. Raws: Qimen Dunjia: 奇门遁甲 and Guimen Dunjia: 鬼门遁甲)
The man offered this explanation with an air of leisure, even taking the time to bow politely.
"If I'm not mistaken, you must be the rising star of the Yotsuba family, correct?"
A man of manners—but the more refined someone appeared, the more caution was warranted.
Yotsuba Mahiro reminded himself inwardly, discreetly deploying multiple observation spells to scrutinize the man while nodding slightly.
"That's right, I'm Yotsuba Mahiro."
As he spoke, he had already shed the disguise of the "Parade."
Since he'd been recognized, there was no point in keeping up the act.
"And you? Who might you be?"
"My apologies for the rudeness. Pleased to meet you—I'm Zhou Gongjin. As you can see, just an ordinary merchant in this Chinatown."
An ordinary merchant?
Since when do ordinary merchants use esoteric arts like Guimen Dunjia?
But more than that, he was intrigued by the name.
"Zhou Gongjin? As in Zhou Yu of Jiangdong?"
"Heh."
Zhou Gongjin chuckled in response. "I get that question often, but regrettably, no. Zhou Gongjin is simply my given name."
"..."
What a letdown. He'd thought it might be Zhou Yu. How boring.
Mahiro's interest immediately waned.
"So, Mr. Zhou Gongjin, what important matter brings you here to intercept me like this?"
"Indeed." Zhou Gongjin nodded frankly. "I'd heard rumors that you, Mr. Mahiro, had been cast aside by the Yotsuba family. So I wanted to ask—would you be interested in collaborating with my teacher?"
"Your teacher? Who's that?"
"Gu Jie. Or rather, Jiedo Heigu."
As he spoke this name, Zhou Gongjin's demeanor visibly shifted, his humble attitude now laced with deep reverence.
Clearly, this Zhou Gongjin held his teacher in high esteem...
But that name sounded vaguely familiar.
"The supreme leader of the international terrorist organization [Blanche]? The grandfather of Richard Sun, head of the international crime syndicate [No Head Dragon]?"
"Correct."
"Hah."
With that confirmation, Mahiro couldn't help but laugh.
"Bush league. Don't you know I was the one who took down Blanche's Japan branch? And less than twenty minutes ago, I wiped out No Head Dragon's East Japan division. And now you come talking about collaboration? Do I look like a fool to you?"
Yet, despite his mockery, Zhou Gongjin remained perfectly composed.
His response was unexpected.
"Just some worthless underlings. My teacher isn't concerned about them. What Gu Jie-sensei values are talents like you, Mr. Mahiro—gifted individuals cruelly discarded by their own families."
His words were dripping with heartfelt sympathy and sorrow.
But—
"But I'm not interested. I have no desire to associate with stateless terrorists. Goodbye."
"My, this is quite troublesome."
Watching him prepare to leave, Zhou Gongjin rubbed his temple, feigning distress. "My teacher can be quite willful. He specifically instructed me to secure your cooperation by any means necessary. So, my apologies..."
"I'm afraid I'll have to let you taste a bit of hardship—Hark, Howling Celestial Hound!"
Suddenly, Zhou Gongjin flicked a yellow talisman from his fingers, and the shadow of a four-legged beast descended from the sky.
As the massive canine silhouette materialized, it lunged at Mahiro with jaws wide.
"Interesting."
The technique Zhou Gongjin employed was unlike any magic Mahiro had encountered before.
It resembled shikigami, but more accurately, it seemed like a diluted version of the Six Ding and Six Jia divine arts.
Any other mage would have found it troublesome.
But before him—
"It's a bit underwhelming."
Rip!
With both hands gripping the upper and lower jaws of the vicious hound, he exerted force and tore it apart with sheer strength.
"Really... I spent ten years creating that thing," Zhou Gongjin muttered in shock, never expecting his trump card, the Howling Celestial Hound, to be so easily crushed before him.
"Failed negotiations, so now you resort to force, is that it?"
Mahiro glared coldly at Zhou Gongjin, the oppressive atmosphere causing beads of sweat to continuously form on Zhou Gongjin's face.
Tossing aside the shredded paper in his hand, Mahiro took a sudden step forward, charging straight at Zhou Gongjin.
"Domain of Ice Mist!"
Chilling magical energy swirled around him, but strangely, the cold air showed no signs of dissipating. Instead, it coiled around Mahiro's fist.
Under the glow of the streetlights, it emitted an eerie cyan radiance!
His fist, wreathed in biting cold, shot directly toward Zhou Gongjin's face.
!!!
In that instant, Zhou Gongjin felt his soul nearly leave his body. He staggered back, his form twisting unnaturally.
"Ghost Walker again? Do you really think I can't see through it?!"
Mahiro altered the trajectory of his punch, slamming it mercilessly toward Zhou Gongjin, who was now bent over.
Boom!
A deafening crash.
Amid the spreading cold mist, Zhou Gongjin's body was violently embedded into the asphalt road.
Yet, bizarrely, there was no corpse to be seen amidst the torn and shattered ground.
"Earth Walker too? How absurd?"
Just as Yotsuba Mahiro was taken aback, Zhou Gongjin's figure reappeared—300 meters away from the explosion site.
This time, however, none of his previous elegance or nobility remained.
Instead, he was drenched in cold sweat.
Leaning against a wall, half his body was encased in frost. The chill wasn't just superficial—it had frozen half his organs, flesh, and bones.
Had it not been for his one-time life-saving escape technique and sheer willpower, he would have died on the spot.
"Truly... terrifying... cough!... Master... Do you really intend to... collaborate with such a dangerous monster...?"
Zhou Gongjin slid down the wall, sitting weakly on the ground, occasionally coughing up blood-tinged ice shards.
To dismantle his Ghost Walker after just one glance...
And to wield an A-rank spell wrapped around his body for close combat...
Though he had managed to escape that punch, it was clear his time was running out.
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