Chapter 5 Miracle_1

Words : 1279 Updated : Sep 10th, 2025

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 Miracle_1The grim, tense atmosphere in the room was suffused with a peculiar heat, born of anger. Fujimura Isao’s shock gradually subsided as he drew his katana from his waist. He was valued by the late group leader and had risen from an ordinary member to his current position as second-in-command, all thanks to his willingness to fight and his proven strength. Of course, he had never learned Sword Dao; he followed the path of actual combat and looked down on the flashy but impractical moves of Sword Dao. With Fujimura Isao’s practical experience, he recognized at a glance that the man before him had an intimidating presence but couldn’t hide the fact that he was covered in wounds. A dying beast is most fearsome in its demeanor, but its strength cannot be compared to when it is in full possession of its limbs. "I don’t know what grudge you have with Shino, but if you dare to provoke the Yakuza, you must pay the price." Fujimura Isao gripped the katana in both hands, held it vertically, and took an offensive stance. "Bullshit Yakuza!" Iwaai Takehiro roared as he took the initiative to charge. Fujimura Isao’s expression remained calm as he sidestepped and sprinted forward with his katana, swinging it horizontally in a move like lightning cleaving through dark clouds. The blade tore through Iwaai Takehiro’s bicep, but instead of retreating, he forcefully pushed forward. Fujimura Isao had intended to sever the bicep and disable Iwaai Takehiro’s right arm. However, Iwaai Takehiro cooperated all too well—his own forward momentum ensuring the blade severed his entire right arm. A great deal of blood sprayed onto Fujimura Isao’s face, blinding him. Iwaai Takehiro seized the opportunity to charge, clutching a spring knife in his left hand and stabbing ferociously. The soft abdomen was easily torn open by the knife point, followed by a twist of the blade. His intestines were torn to shreds. Fujimura Isao felt all his strength drain away with the wound in his abdomen, like a deflated balloon. CLANG. The katana dropped to the ground. Fujimura Isao looked down at the wound in his abdomen, his expression one of utter bewilderment. He couldn’t believe he was about to face death. The late group leader’s last wishes had not yet been fulfilled. The Misawa group absolutely could not fall into the hands of a lunatic like Ono. How could he die? ... Iwaai Takehiro caught his breath heavily, his remaining left eye glaring at Shino as he sneered, "Now it’s your turn." His voice was even more terrifying than a demon’s. Shino leapt to his feet, screaming, "Don’t come any closer, you bastard!" While roaring, he hurriedly moved behind the office desk. Shino opened a drawer, pulled out a gun that had always been hidden inside, and aimed it at the advancing Iwaai Takehiro, shouting, "Take one more step and I’ll shoot!" Fujimura Isao slumped to the ground, his face breaking out in cold sweat; he now lacked even the strength to stand. How could this man, so severely injured, still be able to fight? What kind of drug had he taken? Or was his Yakuza willpower weaker than that of an ordinary person? "Shoot then," Iwaai Takehiro said, his tone full of contempt. At that moment, he cast aside all fear, his mind singularly focused on taking down the man before him. He would never spare Kiku’s murderer. "Bastard!" Shino cried out, as if he were the one being cornered and subjected to all the world’s injustices. His finger pulled the trigger. BANG! The loud gunshot resonated outside the office, clear to the passersby on the street. "Hey, was that a gunshot?" "It must have been a gunshot." The young people on the street excitedly exchanged words. Aozawa looked up at the second-floor office, a thoughtful expression on his face. Is this where it ends? ... Iwaai Takehiro did not die. Shino’s eyes widened as he stared at the scene before him, unable to understand why the other man hadn’t fallen after being shot. The impact of the bullets merely caused Iwaai Takehiro to sway slightly, but he didn’t fall. He continued to fix Shino with his bloodshot left eye. "I won’t die before I kill you," he declared. Shino completely lost it. He let out incoherent shouts, incessantly pulling the trigger. BANG! BANG! Shots echoed through the room. Fujimura Isao couldn’t hear them; he had collapsed into unconsciousness from excessive blood loss. Iwaai Takehiro’s body shook as he slowly advanced, the bullets merely adding a few more holes to his already battered frame. "You monster!" Shino kept pulling the trigger continuously until it clicked on an empty chamber; the magazine was spent. Seizing the opportunity, Iwaai Takehiro’s legs exploded with power. His leg muscles tore as he lunged over the desk, the tremendous force sending him, clutching Shino, crashing through the window. CRASH. The window shattered. Shards of glass reflecting the streetlight’s glow scattered through the air as both men fell to the ground below, drawing screams from the pedestrians. Amid the shrieks, people cleared a wider space yet didn’t flee, their eyes riveted on the movie-like scene with morbid excitement. Aozawa watched Iwaai Takehiro, now barely resembling a human, his gaze growing intense. "Help, someone save me! He’s gone mad, he’s gone mad!" Shino shouted desperately, unable to shake off Iwaai Takehiro, who was on top of him. His spine was broken; he could only writhe helplessly like a maggot. "Haha," Iwaai Takehiro laughed loudly as he raised the spring knife with his left hand, driving it straight through Shino’s throat. GURGLE. Blood frothed from Shino’s throat. He could no longer utter a word, his eyes wide and bulging. Iwaai Takehiro watched him die, life also ebbing from his own body. In a trance, Iwaai Takehiro lifted his head. Usually, nothing could be seen in Tokyo’s night sky. But tonight, the sky was lit; tiny specks of starlight coalesced into Kiku’s image. "Kiku, can you forgive me? Take me to Paradise," he murmured. As he murmured this, Iwaai Takehiro let go of the spring knife, raising his left hand to the starry sky. The light in his eyes extinguished. His body stiffened, yet he remained standing. At that moment, the onlookers noticed the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned. He wore a gentle smile, a stark contrast to his blood-soaked face. "Amen," a religious onlooker immediately knelt, hands clasped in prayer, believing it to be a miracle. How could a mere mortal accomplish such a feat without divine protection? The gruesome scene took on an air of sanctity. CLICK. CLICK. The flashes of cell phone cameras went off. People captured the moment with their phones, their minds already weaving a poignant tale. The distant wail of police sirens grew closer. Aozawa didn’t linger and turned to leave. ... Aozawa recalled Iwaai Takehiro’s appearance in his mind. Hypnosis has its weaknesses. It could enhance one’s resistance to blows, but it couldn’t erase the injuries. It merely made the body ignore the pain. This meant that if he were to hypnotize himself, he had to be extremely careful. Once overdone, it could cause physical harm without his awareness. This was an incredibly dangerous matter, and he needed some time to consider how to grasp the necessary balance. Sadly, he didn’t have time to find another subject for experimentation. At home, he had a ’tigress.’ If he didn’t return soon, he would have to face Morimoto Chiyoda’s fists and nagging. Aozawa thought for a moment. Compared to exploring the abilities of Hypnosis, avoiding Chitose’s temper is far more critical. He started on his way home.

Chapter 5 Miracle_1

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