Black Rain

A violent tremor shook the earth, waking Jennifer, who had been thoroughly worn out the night before.

She cracked her eyes open sleepily. In the faint light of the bedside lamp, she saw Shiraishi Wataru beside her and asked in a soft, just-awakened voice, "Honey, what's happening?"

Shiraishi Wataru nodded solemnly. "Yes. Something's about to happen."

Then he rolled over and pinned her down.

"Ah—!"

Clutching the sheets, she was shaken so intensely that she could no longer feel anything happening outside.

"Ah—!"

"My legs!"

"I want to turn myself in! I've got two bags of powder up my ass! Arrest me, please!"

Central Park lay in ruins.

The thugs chained to chairs or railings were both lucky and unlucky. Some were lucky enough to be able to drag their chairs, and managed to struggle away from this terrifying place.

But as for the unlucky ones, a huge pile of debris had just been sent flying—including rocks, trash cans, and signposts. Some people seemed to have been targeted by automatic tracking. Blood covered the ground.

The giant dragon pinned Michael beneath one claw and let out a sky-shaking roar. The sound waves spread, startling every bird in New York into flight. Looking out, the birds formed another mass of "dark clouds."

In the command room, everyone watched the angel clearly being pushed back. Even the atheists silently rooted for him.

After all, the Faker's behavior had been bizarre and clearly ill-intentioned from the moment he appeared. If he succeeded, no one knew what terrible consequences might follow.

"Is there any way we can support the angel?"

"Napalm? Legend has it that the Seraph Michael can control fire. Would setting the area ablaze help him fight? And the Black Dragon is so huge that the flames would do more damage to it."

"Good. Carry it out immediately!"

Mark felt guilty about not daring to personally order an attack on the Statue of Liberty. He kept thinking of ways to make amends, and to have something to point to later if he needed to shift the blame—proof that he hadn't just stood by and watched.

As for the thugs in Central Park?

Sorry, but they could die for their country. It would be a good use of otherwise wasted resources. Besides, who knew if they were illegal immigrants?

Lightning and thunder grew increasingly frequent, striking lightning rods and utility poles all around.

Amid the writhing bolts of lightning, a black dragon held the angel down, standing tall and proud. At a magazine office some distance away, a reporter risked leaning out to snap a picture of the scene. His professional instincts told him that this photo might keep him fed for the rest of his life.

Whoosh!

A Holy Light Sword Mark shot into the sky, then gradually faded away.

The angel broke free of the Black Dragon's pin and took to the air again, engaging his opponent in a fight that looked hopelessly one-sided.

"Roar!"

The Black Dragon's wing membrane was pierced by a blade, and it let out a pained cry. It opened its jaws wide at the angel, spewing out a large quantity of thick, black slime.

Caught off guard, the angel was splashed with some of it. At once, all his movements slowed. Even the light shining from his blade dimmed.

This was a by-product of [Alienation]. In practice, it only served to disgust; it had no additional effects. Just like the Holy Light he had been using all along, it was merely a showy application of [Injury Aura]. The only damage it could cause was when the Black Dragon put its ability away in advance, allowing the angel to hurt it with his [Blade] ability.

Oscar was one Academy Award short of Shiraishi Wataru. And now, Shiraishi Wataru was even fighting on three fronts!

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

"Hahaha! What a shame. If this were your real body, how wonderful that would be." The Black Dragon spoke in Japanese, its tone slightly crazed, yet somehow perfectly suited to the situation.

It was so wonderfully over-the-top.

"You let the wolf in." The angel spoke slowly, then looked up.

Several missiles came flying in. A succession of roaring explosions turned half of Central Park into a sea of flames in an instant.

The capital of America.

The White Palace.

The President and his aides watched everything unfold in silence. Some of them had already covered their mouths.

"Mr. President, we have to consider the votes. We can't use anything more aggressive—"

The President waved a hand and looked at the sea of flames. "Bring me the briefcase."

In fact, he didn't need the nuclear launch codes briefcase to issue a nuclear strike order from the White Palace. It was more a way of making a statement.

"Tell Mark to do whatever he needs to. I support every decision he makes. This is a land blessed by the glory of God, and we are His chosen people! I will not tolerate the devil trying to lay a finger on any part of this land! No matter the cost! This is the enemy of all humankind—we're doing this for all humankind!"

The aides glanced discreetly at the nearby camera. They wondered if the President was laying it on a bit thick. Afraid that more persuasion might make him sound even more like he was giving a speech—and get his hands moving like an accordion—they abandoned the idea of talking him out of it and went back to watching the "live broadcast."

Amid the sea of flames, the Black Dragon became a fire dragon. It meant nothing to Shiraishi Wataru; explosions and ordinary fires were more nourishment than weapons to him. Still, he put on an act of weakness and tried to put out the flames on his body.

Specifically, he rubbed himself against buildings here and there, creating more GDP and jobs for the city's future reconstruction, then soared into the sky and disappeared behind the storm clouds.

"It worked! We've successfully counterattacked the devil!"

The command room erupted with joy, and the commander-in-chief finally let out a breath of relief.

He had faced considerable pressure in giving that order. If it had achieved nothing, people would have dredged it up afterward and held him accountable.

But the joy didn't last long, because the Black Dragon appeared before them again.

It poked its head out of the dark clouds, seeming to merge with the sky. The weather was at its mercy.

"Sorry, but I succeeded after all. It's too late for you to stop its arrival now. I wonder if you can still do what you did in the past on this plane, and strike it down with your sword. Farewell, remnant soul of the Pioneer."

The Black Dragon drew its head back and disappeared.

The angel seemed weak. He rose alone into the air and looked up as raindrops fell on his face and trickled down.

One drop. Then two. At last, the heavy rain began to fall.

But the rain was an eerie, deep black, like ink pouring from the sky.

The black water flowed over the angel's body, sending up wisps of vapor as though some unknown reaction were taking place (in fact, it was simply heating the water until it evaporated).

Until the authorities announced their findings, hardly anyone dared to touch the strange rain.

"The rainwater was contaminated by the overwhelming malice. In reality, it isn't very harmful, but ordinary people may suffer from illness and a fear of looking directly at it. Those with severe aftereffects may also have nightmares." Shiraishi Wataru quickly deduced how the rain had formed and what it did.

"Commander, the Statue of Liberty—the Statue of Liberty is changing drastically!"

Someone made a panicked report.

In the drone footage, they could see it.

The towering Statue of Liberty was steadily being covered by black rain. Even her familiar black tear streaks were becoming less noticeable, while her once-familiar, gentle face had begun to crack. Perhaps the copper plates of her face would give way and fall off in the next instant.

Everyone held their breath.

With the Black Dragon's retreat and the black water raining from the sky, they could all guess that a terrifying entity was about to break free of its prison.

For the first time, they saw helplessness and pain in the Statue of Liberty's eyes. Her cracked lips seemed to move, but in the end, all that came was a heavy sigh that reached straight into their hearts.

"Sigh..."

With that sigh,

her face collapsed.

Thanks to "Lost Blue Cat" for the tip.

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