"I know the ghouls in the 20th Ward. Most of you don't hunt humans—you feed only on suicide victims."
Hayashi slid the Thousand Demon Daggers back into its sheath, his tone calm and almost casual.
"So, I'm not planning to exterminate your group… or interfere with your way of life."
He paused then, locking eyes with Yomo.
"But there's one condition—don't get in the way of what I choose to do from now on. Otherwise…" His gaze turned cold. "Next time, you won't walk away alive. Got it?"
A faint mist of blood aura swirled around him, thick and suffocating, exuding raw pressure that made the air feel heavy.
"You…"
Yomo froze, startled by the intensity in Hayashi's eyes—sharp yet eerily composed.
He'd never imagined that a CCG investigator, after defeating him, would choose to heal him instead of finishing the job. And to even say something like that—to make such a promise to a ghoul—was unthinkable.
"You're an investigator, and I'm a ghoul. I can't bring myself to trust you," Yomo said quietly as he got to his feet.
For generations, ghouls and investigators had slaughtered one another. It was impossible to believe any promise that came from the other side.
"But… I lost. Fair and square. I won't stand in your way again."
He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But if you ever bring danger to the 20th Ward, I'll stop you, even if it costs me my life."
That was his line in the sand—his bottom line.
He couldn't allow anyone to destroy the fragile peace they had built.
Even if he didn't trust the human before him, something about Hayashi felt… different. He didn't radiate that familiar hatred most investigators carried toward ghouls. No disgust, no rage—just calm detachment, like he was talking to an equal.
But that couldn't be right.There was no such thing as an investigator who didn't hate ghouls. Unless… he was the lazy kind that didn't care about anything.
Yomo shook his head, forcing the ridiculous thought away.
All he knew was this—Hayashi was strong. Terrifyingly strong. Far beyond what he could ever handle.
"I'll remember what you said," Yomo muttered. "As long as you don't cross that line, I won't interfere."
With that, he turned and vanished back into the darkness.
The area fell silent once more, the moonlight spilling faintly across the cracked ground.
"…He's gone?"
Sensing Yomo's presence fade completely, Hayashi finally let out a breath of relief.
"Beat the brother-in-law, then the uncle-in-law… yeah, that should be enough family violence for one night."
At least after what he'd said, Yomo shouldn't come looking for trouble again. If he did, well… Hayashi would just knock him out and drag him to Touka's place as a peace offering.
But that probably wouldn't be necessary.
Satisfied, he nodded to himself and left the scene, heading for a more secluded spot—even darker and quieter than the old factory from before.
No lights. No sounds. Just pitch-black emptiness.
"Alright… this should be safe enough," he muttered, scanning his surroundings carefully.
After all, the system required him to be in a secure, danger-free zone before issuing mission rewards.
[You have successfully completed the mission:: Make Renji Yomo Recognize Reality]
[Detected that the target has temporarily lowered his guard and trusted you. Mission overachievement. Reward upgraded!]
It's here!
Hayashi's eyes lit up as the system chime echoed. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
If the next weapon turned out to be another blade, he'd finally be able to dual-wield!Which meant he could pull off Kirito's Starburst Stream!
Now that would be sick.
[Mission reward being distributed...]
[You have obtained the weapon: Asuramaru (Legendary Weapon)]
[Asuramaru (Legendary Weapon): An ancient and powerful weapon shrouded in mystery. Upon acquisition, you become its sole master—no one else can wield it.
Background: Once said to be the progenitor of vampires, it now exists only as a cursed katana that radiates ominous energy.]
"Holy—! It's really another sword!"
Hayashi's grin stretched wide.
Dual-wielding, at last.
He could practically feel the sword saint energy flowing through him already.
"Wait… hold up. Asuramaru?"
That name sounded way too familiar.
Before he could even finish the thought, a black katana materialized in his hand.
It was a perfect Japanese blade — sleek, heavy, and ominously beautiful. The scabbard was deep obsidian, adorned with a thin line of gold near the mouth.The hilt matched—black wrapped in gold threading, radiating a sense of nobility and age.
Just looking at it, Hayashi could feel its ancient, oppressive aura pressing down on his chest.
And then it hit him.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" he muttered, eyes widening.
"Asuramaru. That Asuramaru."
From Seraph of the End. The very same weapon wielded by Hyakuya — the demon blade with a mind of its own.
Hayashi could barely contain his excitement.
A living weapon. With consciousness. And if he remembered correctly… Asuramaru's spirit took the form of a small, androgynous being — half kid, half gothic doll.
His pulse quickened.
If the sword was here… then maybe its spirit was too.