Don't use Type-Moon references in Oregairu!

"Tell other countries to unite and stop them? Do you think that's possible?" Jia Kongming replied coldly. "How many people in the international community do you think believe we're telling the truth, and not slandering the United States? No, they might think the United States is really capable of taking action, after all, what wouldn't they do? But... can you guarantee they won't get a share?"

Fujimaru Ritsuka fell silent, and Jia Kongming pressed his advantage: "The more people who know, the more people might get involved, which would only create a bigger mess for you. The evidence we have is simply not enough. And time is running out, so we can't resolve this. I'm sorry. We can only hope that not many people know, and that some of the 300 million people in America can survive."

Fujimaru Ritsuka took a deep breath: "I understand. It's not that it can't be saved, it's that there's no time to save it. So... what did you all do at the same time? And why did this situation arise?"

“You know what? We appreciate your pragmatic attitude. It’s nothing, we’ve grasped our own hope, and we’ve left you with a glimmer of hope too, while some people are just taking advantage of the situation for their own selfish purposes.” Jia Kongming’s voice became serious. “Listen carefully to what’s coming next.”

"Our land and rivers are already imbued with spirit, and our blessed lands and grottoes are all in place. The time for our departure and voyage will be within these ten days. The turbulence of the earth's veins is inevitable. Therefore, the American land-forging project has the potential to unfold and succeed. But that is not the point."

"The key point is that after the spiritual veins are shaken, those that have already taken shape will become active. However, at the same time, under the interference of that being, they will absorb a large amount of negative energy from civilizations and all living beings, condensing into a massive demonic abyss. You need to suppress them, and then, at the crucial moment of the ritual, go through the opened passage to confront that being. This is our only chance. However... with America doing this, the chances of success might have increased considerably."

Fujimaru Ritsuka's palms were sweating, and her throat was dry as she asked, "How much?"

"One in ten million to one in ten thousand. By the way, go check it out. There might be secrets inside the Demon Cave. So, prepare well."

Before Fujimaru Ritsuka could ask any further questions, the call ended.

My feelings are complicated. It's like a beautiful fairy who hasn't even brushed her teeth, excitedly running to her idol's house to wait for someone, only to have a handsome guy rush out, grab her hand, and say, "Let's get married."

My name isn't Bai Jingjing either!

I'm still a kid! I haven't even reached level 10 yet! And you're making me do this kind of thing?! [Chaldean profanity]!

Sasakawa Yagokoro peeked around for a while, then asked, "Boss, how is it? Should we go over there?"

He never mentioned what he heard in the voice that leaked from the microphone.

What do you mean by "the nation's mountains and rivers" or "the land forged from the earth"? I, Lao Sa, know nothing about any of that, so don't ask me! Boss, wherever you say we should charge, that's where we'll charge. We won't say a word.

Fujimaru Ritsuka rubbed her temples in exasperation. There was nothing she could do with this lazy fellow. Expecting her little brother to offer any valuable advice was out of the question. He was as slippery as an eel. She'd better take this matter back to the mansion and discuss it with the others.

There's not much we can do right now, so we should first explore the inside of this building and see what the situation is.

At that moment, his phone vibrated again.

...What if that guy suddenly calls and tells us that Supres Mazefak is going to run away today? Please, no way!

Oh, it's this guy.

Fujimaru Ritsuka answered the phone impatiently, speaking coldly, "Hello? Itohori Yuuma, you've got some nerve! Not answering the phone? Don't you know you're next door? This is a serious violation of the Corporate Slave Law; you'll be arrested and sent to be refined into oil!"

A weak, low voice came from the other end of the phone: "No, boss... I'm afraid to answer... I would never do this normally. When I was a subordinate, I kept my phone on. I was terrified of even hearing the custom-made DingTalk that the East City team got from next door, but I would still open it without hesitation. But it's different now. If I answer, I might die."

"What's the situation now?" Fujimaru Ritsuka blinked sharply and lowered her voice. "Since you can still contact the outside world, it means the problem isn't too serious. But we observed the situation downstairs and it seems alright?"

"This won't do, boss." Itohori Yuuma, the tattooed guy, was almost in tears. "Something's really wrong inside. I have to put on a show now. I shouldn't have come to work on time every day like I did when I was the assistant to the head of the gang. If I had stayed home and played around with women, things wouldn't have come to this."

"Do you want us to come in and save you or not? Stop talking nonsense and let us go."

"The situation inside is quite simple: most of them have gone mad, and the rest have to pretend to be mad..." Itohori Yuuma quickly refined his words and spoke rapidly, "A bunch of people's skin colors have turned into all sorts of colors, and they all look uglier than the last. Even the ones who film for women have become lewd. Not only that, some people have started to grow taller rapidly, and some people have become hunched over. Then they started frantically proposing motions in the morning meetings to determine status by force."

“That’s truly insane,” Fujimaru Ritsuka exclaimed.

In Japan, yakuza organizations, to put it kindly, are like warm, welcoming families; to put it bluntly, they are hierarchical, with a strict order of seniority. Often, your status is determined by the elder brother you swore brotherhood upon joining, while actual power is another matter entirely.

In theory, the leader worshipped during the initiation ceremony is the "father" in the Yakuza, while the "younger brother" who is an elder of the organization cannot be a junior member of the organization.

Just like Wu Hu Yuzhen's current position, which was somewhat absurdly snatched from the young master, Ruotou, who had become a traitor, but it was somewhat illegitimate and unjustified—so he only dared to call himself the acting group leader, and he still relied on people like his younger brother, Ruotou, for support.

However, the Tojo Clan's morning assembly was not something that lower-ranking members could attend. Even someone like Itohori Yuzuru, who was a junior assistant of the young master, had only attended a few times back then.

It's utterly absurd that a group of elderly, incapable men would suddenly propose to determine status through force, even going so far as to break the hierarchical structure of the initiation ceremony.

"Are the people under your command now planning to beat you up and take back your position with their fists, even if they're in their forties or fifties?"

"No... they think we can use cold weapons, but not firearms, and they've proposed a life-or-death battle, without any pauses," said Itohori Yuuma quietly.

Damn, is Toujou Studio planning to make a swordsman's duel or Samurai Shodown? They can't possibly be thinking of making Rurouni Kenshin, can they?

Fujimaru Ritsuka felt as if she were choking on blood, unable to speak, and could only nod silently.

But Yuma Itohori was unwilling to stop. His voice was full of resentment: "Moreover, they also proposed that the position of group leader should be taken into account, and that it should be taken on a large scale, with everyone from the assistant leader to the junior leader to the group leader participating. No one is allowed to be absent."

"Finally, their eyes gleamed like wolves, and they said that whoever failed the challenge would be their dinner that day."

195. This is not anyone's territory.

"Anyway, help, help, help!" Yuma Itohori quickly whispered out a contestant's embarrassing line, but before Ritsuka Fujimaru could reply, there was a faint sound coming from the other end of the phone.

It was the sound of office doors slowly opening, along with faint noises, like the voices of someone struggling to maintain a semblance of logic despite a lack of reason: "Acting team leader...fight...begins...at the cost of...evolution..."

The call was quietly disconnected.

Fujimaru Ritsuka held her phone, slightly bewildered. She looked up again, a little hesitant: if he went in alone, then there was nothing to worry about; she could just go for it.

But now I have a bunch of underlings around me, and some of them are useful tools.

Not all members of the Tojo Clan's headquarters are permanently stationed there; many are out on business. This includes members currently providing clues to Chaldea, those who collect rent, run companies, and handle pachinko operations—they are essentially Chaldea's eyes and ears in Chiba City.

Inside is their brain, so no matter what, we have to rescue the most important brain, Yuuma Iteto. Once we get the right to claim the power, he won't have to care about the lives of the other scumbags.

After some thought, Fujimaru Ritsuka realized that rescuing a mere Goto Yuuma wouldn't be too difficult, but she still needed to make some arrangements beforehand:

"Sasagawa Yagokoro, do you understand?"

Sasagawa Yagokoro, being a clever man, naturally understood Fujimaru Ritsuka's subtle animosity towards the yakuza organization. Moreover, he felt even more sorry for his own members, and tacitly agreed: "Yes! I suggest prioritizing the safety of our team. The primary objective should be Mr. Itohori Yuuma. The others will require the other side's cooperation. If we truly cannot handle it, we will have to reluctantly grant them a release, lest the Tojo Clan harm the citizens of Chiba they have been working so hard to protect."

Fujimaru Ritsuka's eyes lit up, and she feigned deep sorrow in her voice: "That's right. Your considerations are absolutely correct. Sigh, all I can say is that we must respect the choices of men!"

If her squad suffered casualties while saving ordinary people in Chiba City, Fujimaru Ritsuka would accept it. But if she were to risk her life entering the den of iniquity for these traitors who had betrayed her, it wouldn't be worth it. It would be better to preserve their good reputation.

What? Someone is unwilling to sacrifice themselves? Then Fujimaru Ritsuka has no choice but to help them maintain a dignified appearance.

After all, while high-powered weapons cannot be used in urban security operations before resolving the hostage situation, if the most valuable, cough cough, most rational hostage is rescued and the others are still being held hostage by terrorists, then there is no choice but to be absolutely uncompromising and leave no room for maneuver, and to destroy this place that is suspected to be the beginning of a den of iniquity with a single powerful blow.

Having made up her mind, Fujimaru Ritsuka led her execution team straight to the entrance of the Tojo Clan headquarters building.

"Halt! Who are you?" The gatekeepers reacted as if they had triggered some kind of emergency mechanism, staring blankly at Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others.

However, the voice was too cold and hard, not like the tone of someone from the Yakuza or a dangerous group about to make a move. Combined with their stiff facial expressions, it gave everyone a strange feeling—the people standing there seemed to be two non-human beings wearing human skin, using expressions they had learned from who-knows-where to deal with the others.

“We are from Chaldea,” Sasagawa Yagokoro tentatively probed.

"...Where is that? Anyway, don't come here and cause trouble!" they said in unison, their voices overlapping, creating an eerie atmosphere.

"Actually, it was your acting team leader who invited us here, saying that we should participate in the martial arts tournament."

"Martial Arts Tournament? Ah, the participants in the martial arts tournament! Please come in!" The two burly men guarding the door blushed unnaturally and looked at everyone with extremely envious eyes before respectfully opening the glass door.

I don't know the name of the organization you're cooperating with, but you seem to have been talking about this martial arts tournament for a long time, even though it hasn't been decided yet. Something's fishy about this.

Fujimaru Ritsuka shook her head in surprise, then cautiously led her people into the building.

The glass doors, coated with a matte finish, slowly closed behind us, as if severing the connection between worlds.

The air grew cold.

The interior space of the building is completely different. Fujimaru Ritsuka, who has been here before, can assert that this place has begun to slowly transform into the ordinary world.

It was an eternal, unchanging aura, the same as it was in the past and the same as it is today, like an aura passed down from an infinitely distant ancient era, permeating this crystallization forged by modern civilization, so absurd that Fujimaru Ritsuka almost couldn't help but sneer out loud.

"...Boss, you're so relaxed, that's great." Sasagawa Yagoko nervously fiddled with the gun at his waist, nervously stroking the leather gun holster. "The aura here feels even stronger than in the morgue below the medical school last time. We've never encountered such an outrageous aura before."

"Really?" Fujimaru Ritsuka was slightly lost in thought.

Come to think of it, ever since he first gained his supernatural abilities, every place he entered or every enemy he faced had a more intense aura than this, so he relaxed a little.

However, he couldn't simply apply his experience to his subordinates, so Fujimaru Ritsuka became serious: "Well then, be on guard. I'm giving you the freedom to fire now."

"Yes!"

"Oh my, oh my~ Isn't this a rare guest?" A rough voice rang out, and the newcomer opened his arms wide with surprise, as if to welcome him. "It's been a long time since I've seen you, Fujimaru-sama."

?

"Who are you?" Fujimaru Ritsuka hesitated slightly.

“It’s me, Yuta Sohara! I was beaten up by you guys before, and then I followed you to deal with the Bymamon incident. I was the henchman who ran around for Lady Yukinoshita!” Yuta Sohara revealed his sharp teeth and stroked the unnatural bulge on the top of his head.

No, you've changed so much, no one would recognize you.

Fujimaru Ritsuka stared in astonishment at his three-meter-tall frame and slightly rosy skin, and couldn't help but tentatively remark, "You've changed so much."

"I've gone through a second growth spurt!"

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I feel unwell, no, I've been sunbathing a bit too much lately and I've gotten a slight sunburn."

"Then why do they have horns?"

Yuta Tsunehara laughed heartily without any embarrassment: "Oh, Fujimaru-sama, isn't this a side effect of wanting to become a superhuman? It's an organizational secret, so I can't tell you."

“What if I say that you absolutely must know? You must understand that it is my responsibility to patrol Chiba City, understand the recent activities of the citizens, and protect them from evil.” Fujimaru Ritsuka flicked her wrist, and the Crimson Dragon Cutter Muramasa was already in her hand.

He pressed his thumb against the blade's hilt, revealing a sliver of its sharpness, which reflected the silly, grinning face of the burly giant before him.

"Hmm...that makes sense! Why don't you join our martial arts tournament? We'll tell you everything you know!" Zeng Yuanyu stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at Fujimaru Ritsuka like a mountain, before turning to lead the way.

"..." Fujimaru Ritsuka nodded, gestured behind her with her eyes, and everyone followed.

The moment they left the empty hall, the eerily quiet atmosphere was shattered.

Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others immediately understood why Goto Yuuma was so certain that his subordinates had problems. It wasn't just the higher-ups' attack at the morning meeting, but also other more bizarre things—the tatami mats that were originally used to create a Japanese-style quiet room for entertaining guests with tea had all been rudely removed, leaving a huge empty space.

The members of the Tojo Clan who remained inside the building were casually sitting cross-legged on the expensive tatami floor.

They were feasting and drinking merrily—beautifully patterned porcelain bowls filled with fine wine were being violently clattered together by these burly men. Specially handcrafted tatami mats were haphazardly piled with snacks to accompany the drinks, and there was even a gas stove simmering a hot pot.

The tatami mats on the floor were soaked with alcohol, oil, and even unidentified substances vomited by the drunken Yazaku.

If the old men and higher-ups of the East City Group had seen this chaotic scene, they would probably have been furious and demanded that everyone present cut off their little fingers as an apology.

But there was an old man with gray hair who used to sit behind the former team leader, happily enjoying the banquet. Although he was dressed in a bizarre way, dancing to entertain the guests while wearing only a loincloth.

To be fair, the old man is still very strong for his age; his muscles are defined enough that he could kill two fat guys with one punch, but...

Chaldea members: "My eyes!"

The muscular old man, with his swaying movements, danced naked, enough to make any normal man present despair.

Only Yuta Sohara, like everyone else at the banquet, reacted enthusiastically, clapping and cheering.

Fujimaru Ritsuka covered her injured eye, filled with sympathy: Damn it, these guys are completely hopeless. It feels like even their aesthetic sense has been utterly warped.

Zeng Yuanxiong continued walking, pulling them up to the third floor, though he kept looking back with reluctance, seemingly thinking of joining the banquet.