Declaration

"Yes, Lord Dharma Protector."

After thanking him, Ryomiya Hirosue swallowed it with a gulp, without even needing water.

[Steel Body][Regeneration]

Shiraishi Wataru felt a little disappointed. Unlike Ito and Inagaki, she hadn't awakened a new ability as soon as she took it. She had only adapted two of her existing abilities.

He opened both abilities to her and, while he was at it, handed her the task of deploying animals. Having an assistant really did make things much easier. Otherwise, using three minds at once every day was more exhausting than working on an assembly line.

Only after Hirosue had spent a while getting used to her body did she energetically get to work on the Dharma Protector's instructions. It made Shiraishi Wataru sigh like a worn-out old man: Young people have it so good.

He had to admit, watching a beautiful girl work was a reliable way to restore one's spirits.

He left the Ninth Guardian on autopilot and focused most of his attention on The Faker, who was experimenting with the [Demon Declaration] ability.

When Inagaki had used this ability, she had to firmly believe that the other person was an utterly depraved demon before she could pass judgment.

But when Shiraishi Wataru used it, he could pass judgment at any time. He didn't need to confirm it subjectively.

The only thing that could somewhat restrain him was whether the other person's accumulated malice had objectively exceeded the threshold. If it had, they would undoubtedly turn into a demon. If it hadn't, the malice would rebound on Shiraishi Wataru—but he could have the Parasite take the backlash for him.

Where could he find evil people?

Those gang organizations were a safe bet.

The Faker kept the same face he had worn during the Fire Giant incident and went straight to the nightclub headquarters of a certain gang.

As it happened, he arrived right in the middle of a deal.

"Bastard, you've got the wrong place!"

A Yakuza strode menacingly toward The Faker, who had barged in without permission.

"Is that so? Somehow, I feel like I've come at just the right time." The Faker gave an inscrutable smile.

"You're asking for it!"

The Yakuza swung a punch, but it stopped ten centimeters from the other man's face and wouldn't go any farther. He couldn't even pull it back, as if it were stuck.

"Argh!"

Without warning, the Yakuza's arm was torn apart in midair. He staggered backward, howling in pain.

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

The dozen or so bullets posed no threat to him. He easily stopped them all with his consciousness, and they hung in front of him like a special effect from a movie. Then they clinked onto the floor, the crisp sound of bullets hitting the ground.

Gulp.

The criminals exchanged glances and bolted.

"Come back."

As soon as he spoke, everyone's feet were yanked out from under them. They hit the floor with a thud, crying out in pain as they were dragged toward Shiraishi Wataru.

One man was so scared he wet himself. Disgusted, Shiraishi Wataru grabbed him by the legs with the Hand of Consciousness and slammed him around like Hulk had done to Loki, smacking him against everything like a rag doll. Before long, he was a mangled heap of flesh, and specks of blood splattered across the faces of those forced to watch.

"I hate people who don't keep clean."

Shiraishi Wataru swept his gaze over the crowd.

Everyone's bladder and sphincter were under the greatest strain they had experienced since birth.

"Good. Anyone among you who thinks he's a good person, raise your hand. Let me see." Shiraishi Wataru asked like a teacher, while the criminals lowered their heads like students afraid of being called on.

"Not saying anything? Fine, I'll call on someone." Shiraishi Wataru casually pulled out a fat man. "You. Do you think you're a good person?"

The fat man was drenched in sweat, his lips trembling. "I-I suppose I'm at least a little bit of a good person..."

"Good. Demon, stop hiding in that body and come out."

Shiraishi Wataru casually made the declaration.

The fat man listened in a daze, not understanding what was going on. Nobody there knew what Shiraishi Wataru was doing. They only knew he had to be one of those legendary superhumans. What the hell, is he cosplaying a superhero? With powers like that, couldn't he go live the high life? Why come after hardworking people like us? The criminals were furious, but didn't dare say a word.

Shiraishi Wataru waited a few seconds. When he confirmed that he hadn't suffered any backlash, he knew the man's evil had exceeded the threshold and was enough to turn him into a demon. Maybe any moment now—

"Ha-ow!"

A pair of monstrous hands burst through the fat man's belly and tore him open. They lunged at Shiraishi Wataru—only to be instantly pinned to the floor.

"What a weakling," Shiraishi Wataru commented.

The thing looked like a Ghoul unit from Warcraft III. It was frightening to look at, but its actual combat power was only a little stronger than the subway killer Shiraishi Wataru had faced when he first awakened Super Strength. Its main advantage was a pair of sharp claws.

It'd probably be pretty efficient as a lumberjack.

"Next. You."

Shiraishi Wataru wasted no time. He dragged out another criminal and threw him beside the Ghoul, frightening him so badly that he almost lost control of his bladder and sprayed urine everywhere.

"Tell me, do you think you're a good person or a bad one?"

"W-Well... good, bad... a good and bad person." With the first man as an example, he didn't dare claim he was a good person.

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

The others had managed to figure out some of what was happening. Could a demon really be lurking among them? Had this man come here to exorcise it?

The remaining few watched one another warily, each convinced they were probably in the clear.

A few seconds later, the man in front of them began to twist all over, like a pretzel. He opened his huge mouth to bite, but Shiraishi Wataru pinned him down with his mental power too.

This one was a little stronger. Shiraishi Wataru felt the force of its struggles and gave it a rating.

Next, Shiraishi Wataru pulled out a man who looked like a gang boss.

"I actually want to be a good person."

"Oh, try again in your next life. Demon, come out and dig in."

Smack—

This man transformed much more quickly, and the scene was a lot more spectacular.

Could anyone imagine how sanity-shattering it was to see countless spider-leg-like limbs burst out from his split back and unfurl?

At least the two remaining men couldn't hold it in any longer. They wet themselves.

Feeling this demon's struggle, Shiraishi Wataru's eyes lit up. Finally, a big one. This force was already close to half that of [Offense-Defense Integration], far surpassing Super Strength.

Even so, Shiraishi Wataru forcefully pinned it down. He lined it up with the first two. The three monsters together couldn't make up a complete face.

He declared the last two demons as well. Sure enough, they were all bad people; each one's evil exceeded the supposed threshold.

So what did someone have to do to attract this much malice? What was the upper limit of that threshold?

As it happened, Shiraishi Wataru knew of a place that recorded the different degrees of evil.

Prison.

It might not be completely accurate, but a rough estimate would do. Shiraishi Wataru's experiments were all about having plenty of test subjects and sparing no effort.

"Alright, alright, I know you're hungry. Get out of here and go eat."

Shiraishi Wataru casually chased the demons out of the room.

Before long, screams rang out throughout the nightclub.