Proclamation

"Yes, Ninth Guardian."

After Ryomiya Hirosue expressed her gratitude, she swallowed the item in one gulp without even needing water.

[Steel Body] [Regeneration]

Shiraishi Wataru felt a twinge of regret; unlike Ito and Inagaki, she hadn't awakened a new ability upon consumption, merely adapting to two existing ones.

He opened both abilities to her and offloaded the task of deploying animals onto her as well. Having an assistant was truly much easier; otherwise, multitasking three ways every day was more exhausting than working on an assembly line.

Once Ryomiya Hirosue had adjusted to her body, she set about handling the tasks assigned by the Guardian with great enthusiasm, prompting Shiraishi Wataru to let out a "youth is a wonderful thing" sigh, sounding like an old codger.

It had to be said, watching a beautiful girl work was also a reliable way to restore one's spirits.

Leaving the Ninth Guardian on autopilot, he focused his main attention on The Faker, who was currently experimenting with the ability [Demon Declaration].

When this ability was with Inagaki, she had needed to firmly believe the target was a heinous demon before she could pass judgment.

But for Shiraishi Wataru, he could pass judgment at any time without needing subjective confirmation.

The only thing that could slightly constrain him was whether the target's accumulated evil thoughts objectively exceeded a critical threshold. If they did, the target would undoubtedly transform into a demon; if not, the evil thoughts would backfire on Shiraishi Wataru—though he could simply have a parasite block the backlash for him.

Where to find evildoers?

Targeting organized crime syndicates was a safe bet.

The Faker maintained the face he had worn during the Fire Giant incident and walked straight into the headquarters of a yakuza gang's nightclub.

As it happened, he stumbled upon them in the middle of a transaction.

"Bastard, you're in the wrong place!"

A yakuza walked aggressively toward the intruder.

"Is that so? I feel like I've arrived at just the right time." The Faker wore an indescribable smile.

"Die!"

The yakuza threw a punch, but it stopped ten centimeters from the other man's face, unable to advance an inch. He couldn't even pull his fist back; it was as if it had become stuck.

"Ah!"

Without warning, the yakuza's arm was torn off into thin air. He stumbled backward, letting out a painful howl.

Behind him, several guns were quickly drawn and fired without hesitation.

A dozen bullets didn't put the slightest pressure on him. He easily blocked them with his consciousness, and they all stopped in front of him like a special effect in a movie, clattering to the floor with crisp sounds.

Gulp.

The thugs exchanged glances and turned to run.

"Come back."

As soon as he spoke, everyone was forcibly yanked by their feet. They slammed onto the ground with a thud, crying out in pain as they were dragged toward Shiraishi Wataru.

One man was so scared he lost control of his bladder. Disgusted by the filth, Shiraishi Wataru used a hand of consciousness to grab the man's legs and, much like the Hulk smashing Loki, slammed him repeatedly against the floor like a ragdoll. Within moments, he was a bloody mess, splattering blood onto the faces of those forced to watch.

"I hate people with poor hygiene."

Shiraishi Wataru scanned the crowd.

Every person's detrusor and sphincter muscles were under the greatest pressure they had ever experienced since birth.

"Very well. Among you, those who consider themselves good people, raise your hands and let me see." Shiraishi Wataru asked like a teacher, and the thugs kept their heads down, like students afraid of being called upon.

"No one wants to say? Then I'll pick someone." Shiraishi Wataru pulled out a fat man at random. "You, tell me, do you think you're a good person?"

Sweat poured down the fat man's face, and his lips trembled. "I-I suppose I count as... a little bit."

"Good. Demon, stop hiding in this body. Come out."

Shiraishi Wataru finished the declaration casually.

The fat man listened, dazed and confused. No one present knew what Shiraishi Wataru was doing; they only knew he must be a legendary transcendent. What the hell, is he cosplaying as a superhero here? If you have these superpowers, isn't it better to go live the high life? Why come here to make things difficult for those of us just trying to survive! The thugs were furious but dared not speak.

Shiraishi Wataru waited a few seconds, confirming he hadn't suffered any backlash. That meant the man's evil had indeed exceeded the threshold, enough to transform into a demon. Perhaps in the next—

"Haa-aow!"

A pair of monstrous hands burst through the fat man's stomach, tearing him apart. It lunged at Shiraishi Wataru—oh, and was instantly pinned to the floor.

"So weak." Shiraishi Wataru complained.

This thing was like a Ghoul unit from Warcraft; it looked scary, but its actual combat power was only slightly stronger than the subway killer Shiraishi Wataru had faced when he first awakened Super Strength. Its main feature was a pair of sharp claws.

It would probably be quite fast at working as a lumberjack.

"Next, you're up."

Shiraishi Wataru didn't stop, pulling out another thug and throwing him next to the Ghoul, scaring him so badly he nearly lost control of his bladder again.

"Speak. Do you think you're a good person or a bad person?"

"W-w-woo, good, bad, a good-bad person." With the previous example, he didn't dare claim to be a good person.

"At least you're honest. Then, come out, demon."

The others finally managed to understand a little. Could it be that demons were hiding among them?! This man had come here specifically to exorcise them?!

The remaining few eyed each other warily, each convinced that they would be fine.

A few seconds later, the man before him began to twist his entire body like a pretzel, his mouth gaping wide as if to bite someone, only to be pinned down by Shiraishi Wataru's telekinetic force.

This one is slightly stronger, Shiraishi Wataru thought, gauging the force of the man's struggle and assigning a score.

Next, Shiraishi Wataru dragged out the man who appeared to be the leader.

"I actually wanted to be a good person."

"Oh, save it for your next life. Demon, come out and eat."

Snap—

This man's transformation was far more rapid, and the scene was truly shocking.

Can you imagine the sanity-shattering sight of countless spider-like appendages erupting from a split back, stretching and unfolding?

At the very least, the final two men could no longer hold it in and wet themselves.

Feeling the struggle emanating from this demon, Shiraishi Wataru's eyes lit up. Finally, a big catch. This strength was nearly half of [Offense-Defense Integration], far exceeding Super Strength.

However, he was still forcefully suppressed by Shiraishi Wataru, ending up in a row with the previous two; the three monsters combined couldn't even form a single complete set of facial features.

He then declared the fate of the remaining two, and as expected, they were all villains; every person's evil had surpassed the so-called threshold.

So, what exactly must one do to reach the limit of this threshold and attract such a massive amount of malice?

As it happened, Shiraishi Wataru knew of a place that kept records of evil at various degrees.

That place was prison.

It might not be entirely accurate, but it was close enough. Shiraishi Wataru's experiments were defined by an abundance of expendable materials and a tireless work ethic.

"Alright, alright, I know you're hungry. Get lost and go eat."

Shiraishi Wataru casually shooed these demons out of the room.

Before long, continuous, unending screams echoed throughout the entire nightclub.