Japanese Terrorist: What? I'll fight Hellstar!

The curtain is drawn back.

Three clowns rolled out from both sides of the stage, riding on giant colorful balls.

They wore brightly colored jumpsuits, with exaggerated makeup on their faces, including red noses, big mouths, and white paint around their eyes.

The colorful ball rolled beneath their feet, and their bodies swayed with it, like three penguins struggling to maintain their balance in a storm. Their comical appearance made the children in the audience laugh.

Three clowns rolled onto the center of the stage on a ball and began to make all sorts of funny movements.

"Bang!"

Suddenly, a muffled thud.

The clown on the red ball suddenly fell off the ball.

It wasn't some comical, deliberate fall; his body plummeted straight off the ball, landing face down on the carpet with a dull thud.

Then, it remained motionless.

The laughter in the audience paused for a moment, then—

"Hahaha!"

I don't know who started laughing first, but the laughter quickly spread like a contagious disease.

"That was a terrible fall!"

"One more!"

"Get up quickly!"

The children clapped their hands and shouted excitedly, while the adults smiled as if they were watching a good show.

Amamiya Rin didn't laugh; instead, a look of confusion appeared on his face.

Is it really that funny? It's just a clown falling off a ball? Or is his sense of humor too high?

I can't understand it at all.

The other two clowns on stage also stopped. They looked at each other, their smiles somewhat stiff.

"Oh dear—"

The boss sighed with regret.

"This clown seems to be really into his performance. Let's give him a round of applause to encourage him to stand up and continue bringing joy to everyone!"

A few scattered claps broke out.

The two clowns bent down, lifted their fallen companion from the left and right, and dragged him toward the side of the stage.

The clown's feet left two shallow marks on the ground, his head drooped, and his arms hung at his sides, like a discarded doll.

"Alright, alright, it was just a little incident."

The boss's voice rang out again, as relaxed as if he were chatting about today's weather.

"Next, let's welcome our next performer—the knife-throwing artist, Joe!"

A man dressed in a white shirt walked out. He was thin with strong shoulders and back, and he held ten gleaming throwing knives in his hand.

"Joe's knife-throwing technique is simply divine! Look! His target is a blonde beauty!"

At the same time, a huge circular wooden board was erected in the center of the stage. In front of the board stood a blonde woman wearing a gorgeous princess dress, her hands and feet bound to the circular wooden board.

Joe stood thirty meters away, holding a throwing knife in his hand, an arrogant expression on his face.

The first knife.

A flash of cold light, and the throwing knife was embedded in the woman's side, the blade brushing against her princess dress and sinking into the wooden board, the hilt trembling slightly.

The second cut! The third cut! The fourth cut...

With each slash, the throwing knife traced a complete human figure around the woman.

The applause from the audience grew louder; the children clapped excitedly, and the adults showed expressions of admiration. The two Tomie girls also became interested, their eyes glued to the stage.

The man named Joe, holding the last throwing knife in his right hand and his left hand on his hip, looked proudly at the boss standing at the edge of the stage: "So, Mr. Director, am I not the star of this kindergarten?"

"Hehehe, the knives haven't been fired yet."

The principal said with a smile.

"whispering sound!"

Qiao clicked his tongue in annoyance, raised the last throwing knife, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Open your eyes and watch carefully!"

Before he could finish speaking, Joe flicked his wrist, and the throwing knife flew out of his hand, turning into a streak of cold light as it shot towards the woman who was being used as a target.

"Whoosh!"

The blade sliced ​​through the air and, in the blink of an eye, was already at the woman's throat.

In an instant, time seemed to stretch out, and Joe's pupils gradually widened.

The moment the knife left his hand, he knew it had missed.

It's not just off-center, it's way off-center!

The blade's trajectory was straight for the woman's throat, not the dangerous spot he had anticipated, close to her hair. His wrist twitched at the last moment, applying even a fraction more force, and the blade's direction became completely out of control.

It's over! I've failed! I'm not going to be the star of the circus!

"No--!"

A scream escaped his throat, sharp and short, filled with barely suppressed panic. Joe's arm remained in a throwing stance, frozen in mid-air, his fingertips trembling slightly.

However, it was too late to stop it. He could only watch helplessly as the throwing knife turned into a flash of cold light and flew towards the woman's throat.

The blonde woman's pupils shrank to pinpoints, and her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Her body was bound to the wooden board, and even her trembling was trapped by the ropes. The blades magnified rapidly in her eyes, and their cold light was already reflected on the skin of her neck.

Then--

"clang--!!"

A crisp, almost ear-piercing metallic clang exploded in the center of the stage.

It wasn't the sound of a blade cutting into flesh, but rather the sharp clang of metal colliding with metal, like a hammer striking an anvil, the echo reverberating throughout the tent.

The throwing knife exploded in mid-air, shattering into more than a dozen pieces that flew in all directions. The handle spun and flew a long way before hitting the wooden railing at the edge of the stage, bouncing twice, and rolling to the ground.

The blonde woman froze, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.

On her neck, a shallow cut from a broken blade was slowly oozing blood, but her throat was intact.

Just before the blade touched the skin, it was struck from the side by something and shattered.

Joe's arm froze in mid-air, his fingers still in a throwing motion, as if he were frozen in place.

His face was filled with disbelief, his mouth agape, but he couldn't utter a word.

How is that possible?

The throwing knife was hit by something.

During flight, it was struck precisely from the side by something and smashed to pieces.

Are you kidding me? What kind of joke is this? During a flight that lasts less than half a second?

The applause from the audience abruptly stopped, and the guests looked on in confusion, craning their necks to look at the stage, still not understanding what had happened.

"Phew...that was dangerous."

Amamiya Rin slowly lowered her right arm.

Between the index and middle fingers, there were still bits of iron filings.

He had broken off a section of the armrest of the seat, the cut was jagged, revealing the grayish-white cast iron core.

In that critical one-hundredth of a second, he kneaded a small iron ball with his fingers and launched it.

He was incredibly lucky. The moment he noticed the flying knife's trajectory had deviated, he instantly entered the ultimate state of the Crimson Lotus Breathing Technique and managed to deflect the knife that was about to pierce the woman's throat.

Otherwise, if watching a circus performance could lead to someone's death, this world is far too dangerous.