Kami-Jutsu: The Yakuza's Son is Aware-Chapter 7: Death Everywhere

Ferry’s jaws clamped down on one man, tightening until the man went limp — lifeless.

The roughness and violence of his movements were enough to crush even those who weren’t in his line of attack.

He was pretty large now, acting like a rolling boulder.

I didn’t have any work to do at all.

Amidst the carpet of blood and compressed bodies—

"Shall we?" Ferry asked, gesturing at the door.

The moment we entered, a rumble like an earthquake erupted.

Ferry’s tail was swirling subtly. He was manipulating Kami particles around the building.

Next thing, several jagged stones sprouted from the ground, piercing through the hotel’s floor — effectively sealing off the place. Only the rooftop remained, assuming they had a helicopter.

He also did something that broke all the cameras.

Apparently, he still remembered how to use Kamijutsu.

According to Ferry, "Strike the shepherds and the sheep will scatter."

Among the executives and higher-ups of the Sabertooth, the majority were gathered here tonight.

He wasn’t sure about their Don, but a blow like this would leave them crippled.

RAAARRR!!

Battle cry — followed by the banging of bullets.

"Wh-What is that monster?!" a man shouted, terrified.

As Ferry had said earlier, bullets bounced off his body like they were hitting steel.

"Ken, I’ll tear the path for you," Ferry said, turning to me. "Focus on the godman, along with the executives in the penthouse."

With that, he dashed forward. His large form smashed through people and walls, crushing everything in his way.

One swipe — red mist.

Every movement came with the sound of bones snapping.

His growling just made everything worse.

Huge paws — flattening bodies like paper.

Trust me, it was hell on earth for the humans facing him.

As I thought, Hulin Kenvernd was probably a dangerous person.

I suppose I should play my part now...

But... I’m still shaking.

These aren’t those measly Spiders. These are mammoths in Tokyo.

Won’t this go horribly wrong?

I have a bad feeling about it.

A loud blast erupted.

Chunks of flesh splattered beside me.

Someone had thrown a grenade at Ferry — careless and panic-driven.

The blast killed everyone around him.

And yet... nothing even happened to the wolf.

Death everywhere.

As if these people’s lives are just toys in our hands.

What’s the essence of existence at all?

Ugh. Ken, that’s enough thinking.

Let’s finish this and be done for the night.

Whatever comes, I’m confident I’ll prevail somehow.

Ferry adjusted his size and we entered the elevator.

Maybe we could’ve just used the stairs?

The door slid open — and as expected, bullets flew.

Ferry grew again.

Screams of agony filled the room.

At this rate, would I even need to do anything?

I guess not.

I’ll just leave him alone and go to the higher floor.

I went back into the elevator, going to the second floor, ignoring the flying limbs and splashing blood.

It is always peaceful inside the elevator.

When the door opened, I was greeted with silence.

There was glass everywhere, like they were doing some kind of exhibit.

Wait, I just realized that not only Sabertooth was here — some Mafia goons might be here for work or something.

Wrong place at the wrong time, I guess.

The people there just stood, completely terrified of me.

As I took a step out of the elevator, they began to cock their guns, ready.

"I don’t particularly enjoy murder," I began. "I don’t want to kill anyone unnecessarily, so if you can point me to where the executives might be, I’ll go there right now."

The man with sideburns and an afro haircut, acting as the leader of this group, was sweating profusely.

His teeth were shaking. His eyes were scared.

I could sense he was at a crossroad: loyalty to the family, or betrayal in letting me pass.

"Haaaahhhh!!!"

He chose the former.

Bullets shot at me from every direction.

But none could meet my flesh.

If I’m calm and focused enough, I can compress the particles around me without actually lifting my hand now.

I’m beginning to think the movement of limbs to control the particles is a mental mechanism — for sharper focus.

The heat of the shooting didn’t reduce.

These guys were shooting for their lives... I guess I can’t wait for their bullets to run out.

Unlike the Spiders, this place was massive.

Ferry hadn’t even come yet, due to his own slaughter.

Hmmm. Okay, let’s kill them.

I dashed forward, using the particles to propel myself like a fast-moving vehicle, my arms wide in a crucifix gesture.

Every person I passed, everyone my shadow was cast upon, was split and cut asunder by the invincible and invisible force of the particles.

The bullets didn’t stop.

I repelled the particles outward, as if increasing the range of my defenses.

And the bullets began to reflect back to them, piercing them as bodies fell lifeless.

At some point, they just became sitting ducks with ammo.

Like a farmer weeding his field, I shared death for them equally.

But... I held a great respect for the people on the second floor.

They were so utterly terrified. They literally saw death in the form of man — but not a single one begged me to spare them.

They gave their lives for their executives to get ready for me.

It’s just a shame; their loyalty was unto human traffickers, organ traffickers, child traffickers, and doers of evil for evil’s sake...

I am currently at the eighth floor.

Bodies were hanging on the ceiling, on the staircases, and some forcefully tucked in-between small spaces and corners.

Ferry was on his way.

I have... killed about 350 people in just one night.

I feel sick.

I feel evil.

I feel... so alive now.

My punishment will come in due course. But I suppose I can just keep aiming at my goals with abandon until that time comes.

"Yo!" Ferry’s voice snapped me out of my daze. "But damn, humans sure are weak without Kamijutsu, right? I had this bald guy’s head stuck on my fang. Trust me, it was a pain in the ass. For him and me!"

I seriously wonder who in the world Ferry is.

Is this how killers become when they get used to it?

I don’t want that, though. The guilt, the sadness, the feeling of losing my own humanity hurts so much, I’d rather it stay. Let it remain as an emblem of my transition.

It’ll greatly lose its flavor if I simply get used to killing people.

I was about to ask Ferry how he was so relaxed before—

(Hey! Watch out!)

Ferry’s voice resounded just in time.

BANG!

A bullet flew toward my skull.

I tilted and bent my neck with the impact.

Ferry had his hand over his mouth in shock.

Tsk. Again?

How come I always miss one person?

I turned toward the direction of the shooter.

A young lady in a black dress.