Genichirou Shoei survived.

Using his innate ability of the Allay Technique, he survived the massive blast of cutting heat that would’ve killed him otherwise

The pain that flooded his body; it was so horrible that it was impossible to describe even one one-millionth of the feeling that flushed through him. He tried to scream, but by that point, his throat was scorched till all he let out was ash. Everything around him blazed bright white, with a heat so intense that it tore through his clothes and seared his skin into charcoal.

He would've been dead – he probably should've been dead – had it not been for his innate Allay Technique.

Thanks to that, he was able to survive. He focused every last molecule left in his brain to pour his mana with the healing property. His mana flexed and went into a spasm around him, shifting and transforming into a new element. As the white enveloped him, in that same moment, light green aura poured off his like steam, acting as barrier to the burning-hot slash, as well as passively healing his wounds.

It felt like he was doused with ice-cold water while in the middle of a burning desert. He almost cried out in elation as he felt his body fight back against the white-blue blaze and begin to repair itself.

Genichirou had lost consciousness at setpoint, and when he awoke again, the first thing that came to his mind was the fact his Allay Technique had healed his most lethal wounds, but hadn't removed the pain.

Every slight movement he took opened the floodgates and released new crashing waves of red hot pain shooting through every inch of his body.

He snarled in anguish, his teeth either missing or charred, his throat still burnt to the point his voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“Shit…”

His body shook as he slowly – very slowly– got to his feet. His clothes, of course, were still ruined, but he was glad that he kept his modesty as his pants hand remained to cover the important parts. He bit his cracked lip as he reached up and tore the smoking remains of his shirt off of his mashed skin. It was all red, either from regrow skin or still-leaking blood.

He was still missing his right eye and his left hand, but he was alive, even if every movement made his bones grind against each other and threaten to break.

That attack.

What the hell was that?

Ariyama had released a slash strong enough to completely demolish a corner of the whole school, sending Genichirou’s half-dead boys flying out and landing in the debris-covered courtyard.

As smoke rose up from the pieces of the school that laid around him, Genichirou winced and looked around.

What was he going to do now?

There was a high likelihood that Ariyama had escaped by now, and probably brought that blonde girl with him. So, Genichirou had failed spectacularly.

He screamed his rage and smashed his fist against the nearest chuck of wall, hollering like a wild animal as the brick split his knuckles.

Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!

Everything was going so well, too! Up until those two–

“Shoei?”

That voice. That voice that sounded like a soft rasp of a burned throat – not unlike Genichirou now – came from somewhere behind him. His legs suddenly shook, and he looked around at a large piece of debris, on top of which two people stood.

The tall man on the left was smoking a cigarette, as usual. His long raven hair was tied into a loose ponytail, his shadowy face unshaven and eyes tired. His whole attire was black, including his flapping trench coat that reached his ankles.

Ishiguro Kagemitsu

The smaller of the two wore a flashy, bright red overcoat with a popped collar. His whole body was wrapped in tight bandages, leaving only room for his left eye and mouth.

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Viktor Akahoshi.

The bandaged man spoke again.

“Shoei. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe I left you with quite a simple task, no?”

His dry mouth was lighthearted, but that didn't mean anything good when it came to Akahoshi.

“V-Victor. Listen to me… That new kid, the one who only learned of the secret world less than two months ago? He's a… He's a demon! Such power, such raw determination. I hit him with Thornblade Vorpalé, but even the pain infection from being stabbed with the knives seemed to not deter him. He felt it, for sure. He felt every moment of that indescribable pain, but he still did THIS to me!”

He held up his stump, and twisted his face into a snarl of rage and pain and desperation.

But Akahoshi just put a bandaged hand to his burned lips.

“Shh, shh, shh. Shoei, listen to me. You seem to not be understanding the situation.”

What? Not understanding the situation? Akahoshi wasn't wasn't there, so how the hell did he know anything at all?

“Viktor… What…”

“Listen. You are continuously going on and on about how this Ariyama boy is some sort of demon. You're saying he did all this to you? I'd wager you'd even be dead if it wasn't for that handy Allay Technique of yours.”

He was right. A hundred percent right.

“So, I'm just curious as to how a boy, who's only had his Enchanted Tool for just over a Month at this point, could defeat you, when you've had yours for…”

“S-seven months.”

“Seven whole months.”

Akahoshi had the tone of a disappointed parent, and it was driving Genichirou insane. He knew he wasn't in the right state of mind right now, but he was itching to tear into Akahoshi, even if he knew the small man could wipe him away with one attack.

“I… Viktor, you have to understan–”

Akahoshi raised his finger to his lips again.

“Quiet. Do you know what I think? I think that it's not a matter of Ariyama being too strong, but instead, it's a matter of you simply being too weak.”

That word.

‘Weak’.

It was wrong. No, it was so wrong.

Genichirou wasn't weak. He was amazing! At everything! He was the greatest human being to ever exist.

He glared at the two men standing atop the rubble.

“So, what? Are you gonna kill me now?”

Akahoshi chuckled softly, a rasping sound that was carried by the wind.

“Kill you? Oh, of course not. I would never kill a friend. In fact, how about to toddle away now? Find some place to lay low for a while, and I'll call you when you're all healed up, OK?”

Hm. So he was giving Genichirou another chance after all?

“O-OK.”

Genichirou stared up at Akahoshi, just to ensure he was being genuine. One thing about those bandages covering nearly all his face was that his expression was always ambiguous. But he’d never betray Genichirou, right?

Of course not. He’d said it himself. Genichirou was too important, after all. So, he nodded and turned his back, facing the treeline outside the chain-link fence around the courtyard. He needed to find somewhere to recover, and then the next time he’d see Ariyama, that black-haired bastard was dead.

He took one step forward, then a huge black gauntlet punched a hole through his stomach from behind.

His nervous systems fried and his whole body spasmed as he looked down at the fist through his stomach. Blood poured from the wound, but the pitch-black gauntlet remained stainless.

Huh?

Wuh? What? What?

What was this?

Genichirou’s lips quivered as he looked over his left shoulder, seeing Ishiguro in a low stance behind him. So, it was him who’d punched a hole through him from behind? Well, actually, Ishiguro’s Enchanted Tool did turn into some sort of gauntlet of dark energy, Genichriou had been told. So, that was that, when?

As his feeling began to leave his body, Genichirou looked further behind him, at Akahoshi as he hopped off the debris and strode towards him, hands in his pockets, his red overcoat ruffling in the soft breeze.

“Viktor, why…”

When Genichirou tried to speak, blood poured from his mouth.

“Guh! You… said you wouldn’t kill me.”

Akahoshi stopped right at Genichirou’s side, and shook his head slowly, with a soft chortle.

“Once again, you’re all wrong, Shoei. Yes, I did say I wouldn’t kill you. And I didn’t.”

He nodded to Ishiguro.

“However, I made no such claim when it came to Kagemitsu here.”

Ah. That little bastard…

Genichirou didn’t have the strength to even respond, so he just nodded in reluctant acceptance. He looked down at the gauntlet through him again, and suddenly thought of a great many things.

The fact he’d never get revenge on Ariyama.

The fact he’d disappointed Akahoshi enough that he’d gotten himself killed.

The fact he’d never see his little sister again.

As his life faded away steadily, Genichirou suddenly regretted many of the choices he’d made during his short life. If he had another chance, he would’ve never joined Akahoshi or helped him in any way or even joined the secret world in the first place.

Well, that’s unfortunate…

At Akahoshi’s nod, Ishiguro pulled his gauntlet free from Genichirou, who was dead before he hit the ground.