A Staunch Anti-American

The Akihi House,

"Traffic control has been set up in Daishimaecho,"

Back home, Akiyu Sora opened her laptop and began searching for information about the "supernatural."

"Oh, the usual fog. It really is a supernatural incident."

Her fingers flew across the keyboard while her other hand picked up a potato chip and popped it into her mouth. If not for her petite, girlish appearance, she would have looked every bit the computer geek.

"Why are you so happy about supernatural incidents happening so often?"

Carrying over some juice, Akihi Yu set a glass in front of his younger sister and sat down.

"Because the police won't have time to bother us."

She rolled her eyes at her brother and pressed Enter.

"I sent the information you wanted to your phone."

"Thanks."

Akihi Yu picked up his phone and looked through the information as he searched for a target.

Tanimura Wataru and Kishida Jun had both been chance encounters. With Akihi Yu's current abilities, he could now take the initiative and build a "faction" of his own.

Of course, it would be a faction under one of his "aliases."

There. This guy looked like a good choice.

Ginza,

This was Tokyo's commercial district in Chuo Ward, known as "the most expensive place in the Eastern Hemisphere" and a symbol of the country's prosperity. It was famous for its high-end shopping.

Here, luxury brands from all over the world filled the streets, and giant shopping malls lined both sides of the road. Fashionable, distinctive clothing was everywhere, and the prices were enough to make ordinary people's wallets explode just from looking!

There were also top-tier restaurants serving Italian, French, Arab, and other cuisines. People could sample delicacies from around the world on a single street.

Along with the Champs-Élysées in Paris and Fifth Avenue in New York, it was one of the world's three great centers of prosperity.

Inside an Italian restaurant, a group of elders, roughly in their fifties and sixties, were raising their glasses.

"That project of mine—"

"Don't worry. I know the section chief, Kozuka, at the Ministry of the Environment—"

"Hmph."

A cold snort cut off the conversation. A white-haired old man stood up.

"Today is the院長's death anniversary. What are you talking about?"

"Business, business, and more business!"

The others fell silent under his rebuke, though their expressions showed they didn't take him seriously.

"The院長 passed away ten years ago. Do you really think he'd want us still dwelling on 'those things'?"

A man in his fifties pointed out the window at the luxurious street, where expensive cars streamed past and designer fashions were everywhere. He couldn't help retorting:

"Onoda, you ought to face reality."

"You—"

The white-haired old man glared at him, his hands clenched as if he were about to teach him a lesson with a stick.

But he was old, and times had changed.

He looked over everyone at the table. They were all dressed in bespoke clothes, all of them fat and prosperous. Where was the passion they'd once had for breaking free of America's control?

"You ignorant fools are not worth reasoning with!"

The old man turned and strode out, delivering his rebuke in a stiff, old-fashioned manner.

"Who does he think he is?"

"Hmph. We only call him 'big brother' out of respect for the old院長."

"Drink up! Drink up!"

Behind him, his former "brothers" grumbled in displeasure. The white-haired old man understood that he and they had become strangers.

"Sir, your next destination is—"

A young man in a black suit approached him.

"Home!"

He got into his armored car, growing angrier by the minute.

The government had gained control of the supernatural, yet these "old brothers" hadn't even heard a whisper about it. They might act like they ruled Ginza, but in truth they were just a bunch of... useless fools!

It wasn't entirely their fault.

They did have "some" assets,

but they were too far from the country's upper echelons, and their roots were all in Brazil. It was understandable that they knew nothing.

In fact, even the white-haired old man only knew the tiniest bit of what was going on thanks to the old院長's influence.

As for getting involved?

Don't make me laugh. Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Sumitomo, Fuji... Those behemoths were bending over backward to get in. Why would they let a little shrimp like him get in their way?

Sigh.

The old院長's connections had all been in the military.

Now the Self-Defense Force was so pathetic it could do nothing but wave flags behind the American bastards. What could he do about it?

If they could seize this opportunity, perhaps the country might yet...

Amid a jumble of thoughts, the black car left Chuo Ward, passed through Minato Ward and Meguro Ward, and reached Setagaya Ward.

This was where the old aristocratic families had gathered, but the area was gradually falling into decline. Young people with money preferred Minato Ward and Chuo Ward.

Whenever something went wrong, they would come crawling back here, begging the elders to step in.

Sigh. He was old.

A thousand thoughts melted into a single sigh.

The white-haired old man got out of the car and walked home alone.

His house was a classical wooden building, its materials brought over from Wakayama Prefecture and rebuilt exactly as it had been, every brick and tile in place.

Even the dry garden, the flowing water, the cherry trees, and the willows in the courtyard were identical.

He slid open the wooden door. A black-and-white landscape painting hung directly opposite him, and a military saber was mounted on the wall beside it. The spirit of the old Empire of Japan practically leaped out at him!

Click.

He pulled the cord, and orange-yellow light filled the room. All the furniture in the living room dated back fifty or sixty years.

Except for—

A mysterious figure in a loose, old-fashioned hunting robe and a towering black hat sat there. A white cloth marked with the character "参" hung down to cover their face.

"Who are you?"

The white-haired old man's gaze sharpened, and he spread his feet slightly.

"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is who you are."

The mysterious figure sat boldly in the living room, as if they had been waiting there for a long time—or had only just appeared.

Whoosh.

Seeing that the "mysterious figure" didn't answer, the white-haired old man pushed off the floor and lunged forward, aiming for—

The military saber on the wall!

He tore it down and spun forward in one swift motion. His body was almost at a forty-five-degree angle to the floor, and the saber at his waist was poised in the classic opening stance of a draw cut.

Clang—

The blade left its sheath with a ringing sound as the old man roared:

"Strike!!"

Whoosh.

His swing cut through empty air. The old man raised his head, his pupils trembling.

"院長?!"

Standing before him was a middle-aged man in a tattered old military uniform, an officer's insignia on his shoulder and a saber in his hand.

The next moment, the other man's saber came crashing down!

The white-haired old man instinctively raised his own blade to block it.

This old man was a staunch anti-American, with considerable influence in the Self-Defense Force.

But none of that mattered, as long as Akihi Yu could put him to use—

Clang!

The saber in his hands was embedded in the floor. Kneeling in a cold sweat, the white-haired old man looked up in shock at Akihi Yu—or, rather, the avatar he controlled.

"You're... supernatural?"

"Supernatural?"

The mysterious figure lounged against the chair, their face hidden behind the white cloth, and scoffed.

"Gods, demons, the supernatural."

"Call it whatever you humans like."

As expected!

After fighting the old院長 in the illusion forty times and being killed thirty-nine times, the white-haired old man set down his saber and knelt properly on the floor.

"I was unaware you would honor me with your presence. What do you command?"

"To break free of the Hell Viewing Technique—you must be talented."

The figure raised a hand, and a stone no bigger than a fingernail floated in front of the white-haired old man.

"Eat it, and you'll gain supernatural power."

The old man leaned forward and bit down.

Gulp.

Without hesitation, he swallowed the stone.

"...Aren't you going to ask what the price is?"

At the mysterious figure's teasing question, the old man gave a slight shake of his head.

"No matter the price, I fear nothing."

Without moving, the figure caused the saber embedded in the floor to fly up. It turned sideways and floated before them.

"My lord, please give me your orders."

Offering up one's saber meant surrender.

With supernatural power in his grasp, the flames of his hatred for the American bastards blazed to life once more in his old body!

But first, he had to carry out the task given to him by the person before him.

He had lived more than half his life, after all. He knew that things didn't just fall from the sky—unless they were firebombs. That was how his whole family had died.

"Good."

Akihi Yu was pleased with such an obedient pawn.

"You have one day to familiarize yourself with the 'supernatural power' you speak of. Then—"

A gust of wind swept through, and the mysterious figure seated before the man vanished.

"I'll send someone to find you."

The Akihi House,

Akihi Yu put down his phone and rubbed his chin.

This "Mr. Onoda" had made anti-American statements countless times and made no secret of his hatred for America. He was exactly the vanguard Akihi Yu needed.

Since he'd transmigrated to Japan, what fun would it be if he didn't take control of the country and start a war with America?

Besides, once the fighting started, wouldn't his proficiency shoot up?

As for the unlucky people who died...

Well, casualties were inevitable.