Black Rain

A series of earth-shaking tremors woke Jennifer, who had been thoroughly exhausted the night before.

Lazily half-opening her eyes, she caught the faint glow of the bedside lamp and saw Shiraishi Wataru beside her. With a soft, sleepy voice, she asked, "Darling, what's happening?"

Shiraishi Wataru's expression was grave as he nodded earnestly. "Yes, something is about to happen."

He immediately rolled over and pinned her down.

"Ah--!"

Clutching the bedsheets, she lost all sense of the outside world as her own body began to tremble.

"Ah--!"

"My legs!"

"I want to turn myself in! I have two bags of powder in my anus, please, just take me in, I'm begging you!"

Central Park was a scene of utter devastation.

The thugs chained to benches or railings were met with varying degrees of luck; some were fortunate enough that a few people could drag their benches away, allowing them to scramble out of this terrifying place.

Unfortunately, the debris that had just been kicked up—rocks, trash cans, and signposts—seemed to have an automatic tracking system. Some people were struck, leaving blood pooling across the ground.

The giant dragon pinned Michael down with one claw and let out a roar that shook the heavens. The sound waves rippled outward, startling every bird in New York into flight; looking up, the flock appeared like a vast, dark cloud.

In the command center, even the atheists were silently rooting for the angel, who was clearly at a disadvantage.

After all, the Faker's behavior since his appearance had been far too bizarre and clearly malicious. If he were to succeed, no one knew what terrifying consequences might follow.

"Is there any way we can provide support to the angel!"

"Napalm? Legend has it that the Archangel Michael can manipulate fire. Would setting up a fire zone be beneficial to him? Plus, the Black Dragon is so massive that it would sustain more damage."

"Good, execute immediately!"

Driven by a desire to compensate for his hesitation to order an attack on the Statue of Liberty, Mark was desperate for any action that would serve as a cover, hoping to shift the blame later and prove he hadn't just stood there watching.

As for the thugs in Central Park?

Sorry, let them sacrifice themselves for the country; it could be considered an improvement in waste utilization. Besides, who knew if those people were even legal immigrants?

Lightning and thunder grew more frequent, beginning to strike lightning rods and utility poles everywhere.

Amidst the dancing serpents of lightning, the black dragon stood tall, having suppressed the angel. At a nearby magazine office, a reporter risked his life to lean out and snap a picture of the scene. His professional instinct told him that this single photo might keep him set for life.

Swish!

A Holy Light Sword Mark shot toward the sky before gradually dissipating.

The angel broke free from the Black Dragon's suppression and took to the air once more, engaging in a fight that looked incredibly lopsided.

"Roar!"

The Black Dragon's wing membrane was pierced by a blade, and it let out a cry of pain. It opened its massive maw toward the angel, spewing a large amount of thick, black substance.

Caught off guard, the angel was splattered with some of it. Instantly, all his movements slowed, and even the radiance on his sword dimmed.

This was a byproduct of [Alienation]. In reality, it served only to be disgusting and carried no actual debuff effects. Just like the Holy Light he used, it was a special application of [Injury Aura]—a mere facade. The only damage it could cause was if the Black Dragon retracted its abilities early, allowing the angel to use his [Blade] ability to actually strike the dragon.

One could say Shiraishi Wataru deserved an Oscar for his performance; he was currently fighting on three fronts!

As Michael slowed down, the Black Dragon's advantage grew. Every so often, it would hammer Michael into the ground, carving long furrows through the park.

"Hahaha! What a pity. If this were your true form, how wonderful it would be." The Black Dragon spoke in Japanese, his tone slightly manic, which strangely fit the context of the language.

It was sufficiently chuunibyou.

"Inviting the wolf into the house," the angel said slowly, then looked up.

Several missiles struck, and with a series of fiery explosions, half of Central Park was instantly transformed into a sea of flames.

The capital of America.

The White Palace.

The President and his aides watched the events unfold in silence; some had already covered their mouths.

"Mr. President, we must consider the voters. We cannot use more radical—"

The President waved a hand, staring at the sea of fire. "Bring me the briefcase."

In reality, he didn't need the nuclear command briefcase to issue a strike order from the White Palace, but it was more about making a statement.

"Tell Mark to proceed. I support every one of his decisions. This is a land favored by God's glory, and we are a favored people! I will never tolerate the devil attempting to touch even an inch of this place! Even at any cost! This is the common enemy of all mankind, for the sake of all humanity!"

The aides glanced surreptitiously at the camera nearby, wondering if the President was laying it on a bit too thick. Fearing that if they tried to persuade him further, he would start acting even more like he was giving a speech—with his hands moving like an accordion—they abandoned the idea and continued watching the "live broadcast."

Within the sea of flames, the Black Dragon became a fire dragon. Although this meant absolutely nothing to Shiraishi Wataru—conventional explosions and combustion were more like supplements than weapons to him—he still feigned weakness and attempted to extinguish the flames on his body.

His specific method involved "rubbing" against buildings, creating more GDP and job opportunities for the city's future reconstruction, before charging into the clouds and vanishing behind the dark overcast.

"It's working! We've successfully countered the devil!"

The command center erupted in joy, and the commander-in-chief finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He had been under immense pressure when issuing that order; if there hadn't been any results, he would have been held accountable later.

But this joy did not last long, for the Black Dragon appeared before them once again.

He poked his head out from the black clouds, as if merging with the sky itself, manipulating the weather at his whim.

"My apologies, but I succeeded after all. It is too late for you to stop its arrival now. I wonder, can you still strike it down with your sword, just as you did in the history you created on this plane in days of old? Farewell, remnant soul of the Pioneer."

The Black Dragon withdrew his head and vanished without a trace.

The angel seemed somewhat weak, rising alone into mid-air. He tilted his head back as raindrops fell onto his face and slid away.

One drop. Two drops. The heavy rain finally began to fall.

Yet, this rain was an eerie, deep black, as if ink were falling from the heavens.

The black water flowed over the angel's body, sending up wisps of steam as if some unknown reaction were taking place (in reality, it was simply the temperature rising, causing the water to evaporate).

Before the official results were released, no one dared to touch this strange rain.

"It is because the malice is too powerful, leading to the contamination of the rainwater. It is not actually very harmful, but for ordinary people, it will induce illness and the direct experience of fear; those with severe aftereffects will even suffer from nightmares." Shiraishi Wataru simply analyzed the origin and effects of this rainwater.

"Commander, the Statue of Liberty, the Statue of Liberty has undergone a severe change!"

Someone reported in terror.

Through the drone footage, they could see it clearly.

The towering Statue of Liberty was being continuously covered by the black rain. Even the original black tear stains were no longer distinct, and her familiar, gentle face had already begun to crack. Perhaps in the next second, the copper plates on her face would be unable to hold on and would fall away.

Everyone's heart leaped into their throat.

Coupled with the Black Dragon's retreat and the black water falling from the sky, they could all guess that a terrifying existence was about to break through the cage that held it.

For the first time, they saw helplessness and pain in the eyes of the Statue of Liberty. Her cracked lips seemed to move, but in the end, it transformed into a heavy sigh that reached straight into their souls.

"Sigh."

With that sigh, her face collapsed.

Thanks to "Lost Blue Cat" for the tip.

Thanks to "Author Keep It Up" for the tip.