At present, Yūto's strength had certainly grown, and he had even gathered a certain amount of power under his command—but he still had no intention of openly standing on the opposite side of humanity.
This Tokyo-area yokai-hunting operation had shown him something else as well: the terrifying depth and foundations of those great exorcist clans. With what he currently possessed, directly making an enemy of the entire Tokyo district would be nothing short of foolish. Not to mention the fact that his mother and younger sister were now living quite happily in Tokyo.
He neither wanted to oppose humanity outright nor disrupt the current balance and expose his true identity. The solution Yūto arrived at was simple—create yet another false identity.
After all, if the human Tenkūin Yūto and the oni known as "Hyakuyaki" were to appear together, then no one would ever suspect that these two identities belonged to the same person.
When it came to creating a homunculus, the truly troublesome part was the artificial soul. Simply manufacturing a body, on the other hand, didn't require that many steps.
Of course, without specialized equipment, creating such a body was no easy task either—at the very least, Yūto himself couldn't manage it.
However, every discipline has its specialists. With the assistance of Medea, an outstanding magus from the Age of Gods, even without the proper instruments, she combined her techniques for crafting magical constructs and swiftly produced a brand-new body for Yūto.
The homunculus before him was a perfect one-to-one recreation of his height and appearance. In fact, because Yūto had previously helped replenish Medea's mana, she had gone so far as to meticulously refine even certain… unseen areas. The result left Yūto staring at it with a completely speechless expression.
"This body may look no different from your original," Medea said calmly as she dressed the naked homunculus, "but due to a lack of materials, it probably won't be able to withstand excessively powerful fluctuations of yokai energy.
"Based on the power scale you described for this world, this body can handle spiritual or yokai power up to A-rank at most. If it exceeds that, there's a high chance it will collapse entirely. Keep that in mind."
"A-rank spiritual or yokai power, huh? That should be more than enough," Yūto replied. "After all, Tenkūin Yūto's greatest recorded feat is nothing more than slaying an A-rank yokai."
Looking at the homunculus that was identical to himself, Yūto couldn't help but sigh in admiration—once again confirming that he really was ridiculously handsome—before placing a hand on the homunculus's shoulder.
"Who would've thought the stuff I got from the Matō family would come in handy this soon?"
Yūto had no intention of implanting an artificial soul into the homunculus. A fabricated soul would inevitably differ from him in personality, memories, and emotions—differences that anyone familiar with him would notice immediately.
Instead, he chose a different approach: splitting off a portion of his own soul and implanting it into the homunculus, granting it his consciousness and memories.
This method of soul usage was essentially the same technique Matō Zōken had once used—housing fragments of his soul within Crest Worms.
After Sakura had withdrawn from her corrupted state, and after Yūto used the Holy Grail's wish to return Medusa to Sakura's side, Sakura searched through the Matō family's collection as a gesture of gratitude. In the end, she discovered Matō Zōken's personal notebooks and presented them to Yūto as a gift.
The pain of splitting one's soul was beyond imagination. Even Yūto found himself baring his teeth and gasping through the agony as he struggled to complete the process.
Moreover, dividing one's soul came with severe drawbacks. The integrity of the soul directly affected one's strength and even one's personality.
Take, for example, a certain cold guy whose gender remained a mystery and who liked licking his face with his tongue—or another individual who began with an overwhelming sense of justice, only to devolve into a universally despised villainous old bug.
Those who fancied themselves clever and toyed with souls rarely met a good end.
If he had any other choice, Yūto wouldn't have wanted to split his soul either. But at present, he simply had no better options.
Fortunately, as long as the separated fragment of his soul wasn't destroyed, he could later choose to merge it back, restoring his soul's completeness.
In addition to that fragment of his soul, Yūto also injected all of his spiritual power into the homunculus's body.
Yūto's current spiritual power was at B+ rank—not yet reaching the A-rank limit this body could endure. And because the homunculus possessed Yūto's memories and could use sword techniques like Fūrinkazan, its actual combat strength should be enough to fight an A-rank opponent.
Once the soul fragment and all of Yūto's spiritual power were fully implanted, the homunculus slowly opened its eyes. A powerful wave of spiritual energy erupted from its body.
To be extra cautious, Yūto even drew the Nichirin Blade from his back and handed it to his homunculus counterpart.
B+ rank spiritual power, A-rank combat capability. If things went south, releasing the blade spirit of Divine Blessing would allow it to retreat safely even if it encountered an S-rank existence.
"Then I'll leave that side to you," Yūto said. "If possible, wipe out a couple of A-rank yokai factions while you're at it. Completing the second phase of the 'Become the Ruler of Tokyo's Yokai' quest would be ideal."
"Leave it to me," the homunculus replied calmly. "The current Tenkūin Yūto doesn't have even a trace of yokai power. He should count as a purely human being."
Watching his artificial self depart, Yūto turned to Medea and smiled. Then, as a thick surge of yokai power enveloped his body, a handsome man clad in battle armor appeared—long crimson hair flowing to his waist, a single horn protruding from his head.
Donning a specially crafted mask, Yūto's crimson eyes gazed toward the Tokyo night. From beneath the mask, a slightly low voice echoed.
"Let's go. Now it's our turn to take the stage."
Across the cities of the Tokyo district, within countless dimly lit streets, scenes of fierce battles between yokai and exorcists were unfolding one after another.
Because prior notice had been given, ordinary citizens had chosen to stay indoors that night. At the same time, they watched with a mix of curiosity and excitement.
After all, no one wanted to live forever under the shadow of yokai. For exorcists to be willing to cleanse Tokyo of them entirely was, to ordinary people, unquestionably a good thing.
Of course, just as there were good and bad people, yokai were no different.
Some humans, despite wearing human skin, were more monstrous than any yokai.
And some yokai, though terrifying in appearance, could live harmoniously with humans—sometimes even becoming friends.
Inside the home of an elderly couple living alone, a child dressed in a red kimono, with unusually delicate features, stood behind the two elders as they shielded him with their bodies. Standing opposite them were several exorcists who had just broken in uninvited.
"Please, honorable exorcists," the old man pleaded, his voice trembling. "Spare this child. He's not a bad yokai. If it weren't for him, the two of us would have died in this house without anyone ever knowing."
The child behind them looked about seven or eight years old. In both appearance and build, he was nearly indistinguishable from a human child.
However, the small horn on his forehead and the faint aura of yokai energy he emitted clearly proved that he was not human.
The elderly couple were what people called "empty-nest seniors." Their children paid them no attention, but fortunately, they had a modest pension. Because they deeply loved one another, they lived a simple yet happy life.
That was, until one day, when the old man slipped and fell, knocking himself unconscious for an entire day. Panicking over her husband's condition, the old woman suffered a sudden heart attack.
Under normal circumstances, this neglected couple's fate would likely have been to die quietly in their home, unnoticed by anyone.
But at that moment—when the old woman collapsed from her heart attack—a child in red garments passed straight through the wall, his face filled with panic, and saved them both.
This horned yokai who resembled a human child was none other than a Zashiki-warashi.
The Zashiki-warashi was a yokai of folklore. Though labeled a yokai, it was one of the most benevolent toward humans.
Born from the spirits of children who had met peaceful ends, they possessed the power to bring fortune and happiness.
Where a Zashiki-warashi appeared, there was usually a harmonious household. They were harmless yokai.
The Zashiki-warashi behind the elderly couple had been drawn to their mutual dependence and affection long ago and had quietly stayed with them for years.
Because the couple were advanced in age—and because he himself was a yokai—he had chosen to protect them silently from the shadows.
It was only when they faced mortal danger that he finally revealed himself and saved them.
And after being rescued, the kind-hearted couple never once rejected him for being a yokai. Instead, they treated him as their own grandchild. Since then, the days they spent together had been filled with warmth and happiness.
"A Zashiki-warashi…?" one of the exorcists muttered. "Didn't expect to find such a rare yokai hiding in a place like this. What do we do? Do we act?"
Looking at the child yokai shielded by the elderly couple, the exorcists hesitated, troubled expressions on their faces.
Outside, they had only faintly sensed yokai energy. They hadn't imagined it would be a Zashiki-warashi.
In the past, encountering such a harmless yokai—one that even brought happiness—would usually result in them turning a blind eye.
But this time, the rewards offered by the great clans were simply too generous. And compared to other B-rank yokai, Zashiki-warashi were famous yet virtually incapable of combat. The risk involved was far lower than dealing with other yokai.
More importantly, this yokai-hunting operation had no special rules.
As long as you killed a yokai of the appropriate rank, you earned the corresponding points.