Kami-Jutsu: The Yakuza's Son is Aware-Chapter 9: Chuunibyou, as in me?

The boy had entered full battle mode, his presence heavy and intimidating.

"Oh boy," Ferry slowly enlarged, his muscles visible even as he stood on all fours.

Now, which strategy I’m I usin—

BAM!

My thoughts were interrupted by the collision of the human missile.

The kid flew to my position and blasted me away.

I could barely track his speed.

So that I won’t turn into meat paste in the ground, I gathered Kami particles around myself quickly.

But...

That was the moment the green-haired Russian had to run up the stairs, directly into my landing spot.

There was nothing I could do; if I stopped gathering the particles, both I and her would turn to mush.

However, I managed to steel myself using the particles in mid-air, just inches from hitting her. My joints hurt from the sudden pause.

She jolted and fell to the ground.

"Onee-san, why did you come up here?" I asked her. "Go back."

"Sorry!" She apologized. "I wanted to warn you about the bos—"

SPLATTER!!

I was careless.

I forgot—I wasn’t fighting some random human.

"Why did you kill her?" I asked the boy, wiping off Miss Russia’s blood from my face.

Her head and the wall had basically fused now.

"How did it feel," he smirked, "losing your loved one like that?"

Loved one? What’s he talking about?

"She was a good person... I think."

I dashed to him, ready for combat.

He leapt up and swung his arm down.

It was like a heavy stone came upon me as I defended.

Ferry appeared behind him, jaws ready to clasp, but—

He stopped mid-air at the gesture of the boy, then was swiftly thrown away like a ragdoll, smashing into everything.

It became a tag battle, with me attacking and being countered, and Ferry attacking and being thrown away like a meaningless object.

He’s strong.

Ferry came again this time, more ferocious.

The boy used his elbow to hit his jaws upward, then jammed himself into the great wolf.

The sound wasn’t good, and Ferry stumbled hard on the ground.

I can’t believe he’s affecting Ferry, who bullets and explosives mean nothing to.

I observed him for a bit and realized what he was doing: he was carefully coating his entire body with Kami particles, wearing it like a suit.

That manner of concentration speaks much about his experience in the game.

He ran to me with his two arms stretched.

I ran to him too and we both collided. The floor shook from the force, and nearby objects were blown away.

"You’re really underestimating me, aren’t you?" he squinted. "You keep stealing glances at your friend as if we’re not having a severe battle."

Eh?

"You consider this a severe battle?" I was slightly surprised. "That onee-san... wasn’t she one of you guys?"

"Hm? Was she?" He leapt away. "I killed her because I thought she was your friend or girlfriend."

"Why would you think that?" I asked him, curious.

Ferry dashed at the boy but was casually slammed down by an invisible wave, then kicked off like a soccer ball.

"The eyes she had for you were that of love..." he said. "Maybe even reverence."

L... Love?

I looked at her again.

"Tsk! You’re really underestimating me, huh?!" he yelled.

Then he began to fly.

Ah, of course.

If you can manipulate the Kami particles surrounding you, you could lift yourself mid-air.

Great discovery.

He descended on me with a hammer fist.

I defended by thickening the area above me.

But he was too heavy. He pushed through and hit my arm.

The floor trembled, then cracked...

...then fell.

Now laying down on the 8th floor, I looked up quickly to see him coming again.

Instinctively, I raised a hand, and he was blown back to the upper ground. The 10-feet-wide hole opened even more.

I stood up, then kicked the ground and flew up to him.

I slammed him to the ceiling, then from the air, I readied a punch.

But from his position, about 20 feet away, he stretched his arm and—definitely—an invisible force hit my abdomen, sending me down to the ground.

Tsk. Flying was a pain after all. It takes too much mental attention to defend properly.

As the boy flew down to hit me again, Ferry caught him in his maws—slamming and shaking his head as if trying to tear the boy to shreds.

The guy held Ferry’s mouth and yelled at him.

Like a shockwave, his voice blew Ferry swiftly with the intensity of a bullet’s speed.

I have a lot to learn about this Kamijutsu thing, don’t I?

"What is your name, shōnen?" I asked him.

"Huh? We’re both around the same age! You don’t get to call me that!"

"Should I just call you gaki?" I asked.

"My name is not necessary to you—you’ll be dying after all," he scoffed. "But if you want a name, it’s Fujiwara Yamada."

Ah. He has the same name as Father.

"So Father—"

"What?!"

"—Sorry, Yamada," I corrected. "You don’t seem angry that I killed your sister. At least I can’t feel the rage in your hits."

"Of course I’m not angry," he shrugged. "Why would I be angry when the only person who’s ever showed me true love had her head crushed by some chuunibyou?"

Chuunibyou, as in me?

He thinks I have eighth-grade syndrome.

Ah. And I think he’s probably recalling the wonderful moments he’s had with her.

Because he was seething now—levitating together with the tables and chairs in the vicinity.

Using Kamijutsu seriously feels like wielding psychic powers.

(Ferry, why are you pretending to be overwhelmed?)

(Ah, you noticed!)

(If you were really taking damage, you would’ve made some weird comment by now.)

Yamada flew at me. This time, he wasn’t playing around.

(Well, that’s true. I could bite off his dickhead before his next breath. But I want you to know how it feels—to fight someone superior.)

I shrugged off Ferry’s words.

Yamada and I had entered destructive close combat. I matched his force and intensity blow for blow. It told me something clear: Yamada had just as much martial arts training as I did... which wasn’t a lot.

(If that’s your plan, then it’s a failed mission. Yamada isn’t stronger than me. He’s just an experiment now. And once I’m done talking to him... I’ll kill him.)

"Your sister wasn’t a good person," I muttered between an evasion and a parry.

"What do you know about Maji-nee-san?!" he roared.

Every impact sent tremors through the floor—panels buckled, chandeliers swayed, glass cracked. Like two speeding cars crashing again and again inside a posh hotel suite. Fist and foot collided with force enough to rattle the walls. Kamijutsu is terrifying.

"I don’t know how to explain it..." I told him. "But I could tell. I find it difficult to kill good people."

He laughed. "You naïve fool. Everyone’s bad. Adults, kids—doesn’t matter. There’s no such thing as a good person alive."

Wow. Deep philosophy. Maybe he and I would’ve made decent friends. I’d actually like a boy my age, with the same powers, to talk to sometimes.

But he had to ruin it: