In Tokyo, the dungeon master

Adachi Ward, abandoned hospital.

Withered vines clung to the rusty iron fence, making a soft "rustling" sound when the wind blew, mingling with the eerie wailing faintly coming from the depths of the hospital, making this abandoned place even more sinister—this was the scene of the paranormal event that was reported last night as a gas explosion, but is still being discussed in a small circle.

Dozens of police cars were parked around the hospital, and the police officers were gathered in twos and threes. Some were holding flashlights and pacing around the hospital gate, while others were squatting on the ground taking notes. Their brows were furrowed and their faces were full of confusion and helplessness. They didn't even have the courage to step into the abandoned hospital.

Occasionally, two brave officers would venture inside, but after only a few steps, they would be startled by the strange noises coming from within and retreat back to their companions, their faces pale.

The main problem is that the idiot who was the most daring to rush into the black fog has returned, but he is in very poor condition, like he has gone mad, and we don't know when he will recover.

Even though the black mist has been dissipating and things are much better now than before, and there seems to be no more folding of space, no warriors still dare to go any deeper.

Frontline police officers only earn a pittance; it's not worth risking your life for them. Professional officers earn much more, yet no one dares to join them.

"Ha, a bunch of useless trash."

In the distance, Ryuzaki Ryusei, who was secretly observing them, chuckled softly, his tone undisguisedly sarcastic.

If Gu Meng were to come and see, he would find that compared to the Guiyi Sect members, this person's tracking skills are incredibly good, almost at the limit for an ordinary person.

This person is of Japanese descent, born in Hawaii, and is traveling in Japan. Ryuzaki Ryusei is just an alias; his real identity is a self-proclaimed number one detective in the world, codenamed K.

The reason I say it's self-proclaimed is that there is no such thing as a detective ranking list in the world, and of course there is no universally recognized number one.

He was simply confident that he was Sherlock Holmes reincarnated, undoubtedly the world's greatest detective.

Holmes dared not meet him; he either avoided meeting him directly or avoided his sharp edge.

This confidence was not without reason. As a child, he received special training in Hawaii from a mysterious American department. After the Cold War ended and the department was disbanded, he participated in the investigation of various incidents through both legal and illegal means, found the hiding places of many of America's enemies, and had deep friendships with many powerful figures.

He initially thought the "paranormal event" was 100% fake and came to see it just for fun.

In previous cases, the sobbing in the dead of night, the fleeting white shadows, and the faint blood-stained words on the walls were nothing more than simple tricks set up with sound and light devices and psychological suggestion, with the purpose of covering up the real culprit.

The explosions, pollution, and black fog here must have been caused by the bandits using special weapons and chemicals—but who would have thought that after he arrived and investigated personally, he would discover...

The Japanese police's initial reaction was correct; the scene was likely a supernatural phenomenon because of spatial distortion, rendering physics obsolete.

After eliminating all the impossible scenarios, whatever remains, however unbelievable, is the truth.

Through the binoculars, a man who looked like a police officer was yelling into a walkie-talkie, his tone agitated and incoherent. One moment he was ordering officers to check the surrounding surveillance footage, and the next he was telling his subordinates to contact so-called mediums and yin-yang masters, completely missing the point.

Ryuzaki Ryusei shook his head as he watched.

A breeze stirred, causing the hem of his clothes to sway slightly.

He put away his binoculars, turned around and leaned against the railing, gazing at the dazzling lights of Tokyo in the distance, a playful smile playing on his lips.

"Finally, something interesting is about to happen..."

"Besides that stupid streamer, there must have been quite a few other people who came in groups and then left. Even though the torrential rain and some mysterious force I don't understand erased them, some traces were still left behind..."

"Even though I know it will be extremely dangerous, I still can't help it... Whether you are a superhuman, an exorcist, or a wizard, I really want to find you."

"If... if I could also obtain that ability, maybe I could meet Sherlock Holmes."

Police lights were still flashing in the distance, and the officers' panic and helplessness resembled an absurd farce.

"Speaking of which, haven't the Americans noticed yet? Aren't they supposed to be strict fathers in Japan...? Maybe it's too ridiculous for anyone to report something like this... Oh well, let me remind the Americans, and while I'm at it, I'll have Congressman Smith arrange for me to have a legitimate identity to participate in the investigation..."

……

Haneoka Junior High School, this is Chihana's school.

It's a decent school, though not as good as Tsuki no Mori and it doesn't have the tradition of the "Katsune" school. But if it were really a bad school, the Shirakawa family wouldn't have allowed Chihana to attend.

The school bell had been ringing for quite some time, and the teacher on the podium was rambling on about the knowledge points in the textbook, his tone as steady as a lullaby.

Our newly minted dark magic girl, Shirakawa Chiyana, sits in the classic protagonist's seat by the window, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the edge of her textbook. Her gaze is fixed on the camphor tree outside the window, but her eyes are empty and unfocused.

This scene is very much in the style of a Japanese protagonist, reminiscent of countless heroic spirits from anime.

She didn't hear a word the teacher said; her mind was filled with the events of the previous night, a jumbled mess of thoughts.

It must be a hallucination...

It must be a hallucination caused by staying up too late...

How could that black sphere floating in the air, that cold power flowing down my fingertips, and that dark god of Gunara be real?

It's just a ridiculous fantasy that I've been having because I've been reading too many fantasy comics lately.

But... but... the icy yet burning sensation still lingered on my fingertips, and the faint glow of the runes remained so clear that it seemed to be right in front of me when I closed my eyes.

And the ancestor is a handsome guy, the mother is a magical girl, the grandfather seems to be a magical grandfather, and the aunt, although she can't transform, is a magical aunt... These things are so detailed... It can't be a dream.

Chiyana Shirakawa's expression grew increasingly dazed. She slowly lowered her head, her gaze fixed on her fingertips.

Her nails were neatly trimmed and rounded, with a faint pink hue, looking no different from any other girl's hands. But only she knew that these hands had wielded a power that could send shivers down one's spine last night.

I've torn apart quite a few ghosts with my bare hands.

The kind of plot that only exists in comics actually happened to me.

That power was cold and strong, yet it carried a suffocating allure, as if it belonged to her by birth, yet it was so unfamiliar to her that it terrified her.

She didn't even dare to recall how, last night, when she unconsciously activated her power, everything around her was enveloped in darkness. That feeling of control over everything both made her heart pound and made her vaguely fascinated.

The battle was so exhilarating!

Thinking of this, Shirakawa Chiyana clenched her fingers tightly, her knuckles turning white, a fine layer of cold sweat appearing on the back of her neck, and a chill running through her whole body.

If one day I really become addicted to killing and turn into a puppet of darkness, should I ask my righteous magical girl mother to take action immediately?

Wouldn't that be like the magical girl Xiao Fang written by "The Warrior of Hatred"?