Chapter 59: Visitors from the Distillery

Although Nakano Miku did not join the Metropolitan Police Department, she had agreed that should she encounter any trouble the police could not handle, she would investigate alongside Minamoto no Raikou.

As soon as Odagiri Toshiro departed with a mixture of disappointment and reason, the Nakano household instantly erupted.

"Confess honestly!"
"Leniency for honesty!"
"No lying allowed!"

What could possibly be more surreal in this world than one's own shut-in sister transforming overnight into a sword-wielding samurai who slays demons and vanquishes evil?

Knowing she was in the wrong, Miku laid out the entire sequence of events under the concerned gazes of her sisters and father.

"It's really hard to believe that sword is actually real, and that Lord Minamoto resides inside it," Nino marveled, staring at the pristine, brand-new Tsuchigumo blade that bore no trace of the passage of time.
Come to think of it, she had previously asked Miku to deliver the item to the police station...

"Still, I never expected Miku to turn down the invitation from the Metropolitan Police Department. If she had gone in, she probably would have started out as a superintendent at the very least," Ichika mused.
Starting at heights ordinary people could never hope to reach in a lifetime—such was life.

Miku shook her head slightly and said softly, "That would be too far away from everyone. Protecting all of you matters much more to me than saving the world."

Such a sentiment might be deemed selfish, and she would have accepted it had Minamoto no Raikou chosen to leave her as a result; when all was said and done, she was simply a selfish person who only wished to protect this family.

"Not at all," Minamoto no Raikou’s gentle voice materialized out of thin air, offering soft consolation. "Miku protecting her family is the best Miku of all."

"Sob, sob—Sister Raikou."

The four sisters blinked. As expected, the premise of Minamoto no Raikou being a gentle, big-sister figure was still too surreal, not to mention how overwhelmingly maternal she was; they felt they could barely keep themselves under control.

"Lord Minamoto, Miku," Nakano Maruo spoke up abruptly, drawing their attention.

He bowed at an almost ninety-degree angle, his voice earnest beyond compare.

"I am an ordinary man and cannot assist you in the supernatural realm. My only wish is that should Miku ever desire to step away, you will bring her back. As a father, I beg this of you."

Having obtained Miku's consent, Minamoto no Raikou formally took over the body to respond.

"I swear by the name of the Minamoto clan: until I fall, no one shall harm Miku."

---

In a detached house located in the suburbs of Tokyo.

Gin calmly inspected the firearms and ammunition he had prepared in advance.

Vodka was "playing" in the living room, effortlessly lifting a two-hundred-pound barbell while counting, "One, two, three, four; two, two, three, four."

"Boss, my strength has gotten so huge!"

Click.

The magazine locked seamlessly into place, though Gin's mood was far from pleasant.

"That's merely the baseline. You should feel the power flowing within your body; that is the foundation."

Gin could sense the power known as demonic energy coursing through him, just like this.

Eight spider legs shimmering with a chilling glint unfurled, piercing into the floorboards. A continuous stream of power surged within his body, a wave of heat washing over every blood vessel, sweeping away the bone-deep fatigue and restoring his physical strength.

A recovery ability with phenomenal results.

Vodka scratched his head and chuckled foolishly, "Well, my darkness isn't as profound as yours, Boss. That's what the Tsuchigumo said—Boss, your darkness, if placed a thousand years ago, would have been able to turn into a full-fledged yokai on its own."

Had it been anyone else, Gin would have suspected the man was doing it on purpose. But Vodka... this guy genuinely believed that being able to turn into a yokai was something worth bragging about.

"Boss, can we really not return to the Organization?" Vodka lowered the barbell and asked with a puzzled expression.

Putting aside everything else, they were supernatural beings now, weren't they? The Organization should treat them favorably, right?

Gin glanced at him sideways and said flatly, "If you want to lose your freedom and be treated like a laboratory specimen, that is."

"We've only just stepped into the supernatural. Trying to shrug off missile strikes like the Tsuchigumo and running amok in Tokyo is impossible. At best, we've merely increased our chances of survival against that Tengu."

Returning to the Organization meant being placed under control. Imprisonment was unlikely, but from then on, their sphere of activity would be dictated by the size of a laboratory.

Especially now; drawing the Organization's attention meant entering the field of vision of the island nation's authorities. What kind of plight would two newly-minted, low-tier supernatural beings face? Even with a Vo... tire for a brain, anyone could figure it out.

Vodka was unaware of Gin's internal monologue, but that hardly mattered. He only needed to follow in the footsteps of the boss.

Withdrawing his gaze, Gin closed his eyes slightly to rest and gather his strength.

This was why he had never replaced his partner.

No matter how competent another partner might be, none of them gave him as much peace of mind as Vodka.

Let's rest for a moment while we can; such rest would only grow more precious...

Suddenly, Gin opened his eyes and lowered his voice, "Vodka, grab your weapon and prepare for combat."

"Huh?!" Vodka picked up his firearm, a puzzled expression on his face.

Moments later, the front door was shoved open from the outside. Shadows crowded the windows outside, placing an unbearable strain on the small detached house.

"Clear."
"Could the intelligence be wrong?"

The man in sunglasses leading the team stepped into the living room, pressing both hands onto the sofa. The upholstery was still warm, prompting a wild look of elation on his face.

"They haven't gone far. After them!"
"Understood!" Following a flurry of hurried footsteps, the men in black inside the house... were suddenly a few fewer.

After waiting patiently for a moment, Pisco spoke out loudly toward the empty house, "Gin, come out. You know how terrifying the Organization's influence is; even if you flee to the ends of the earth, you will be found. The Boss said that as long as you return to the Organization, your status will be second only to his."

As soon as the words fell.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

The gunshots of a Beretta stood out sharply in the empty house. Pisco nimbly ducked behind the members who had rushed forward, his eyes tracking the source of the gunfire.

"There!"
"Fire!"
"Take them alive! Take them alive! The Boss gave strict orders to capture them alive!"

With every single word that dropped, another member of the Black Organization was sent away.

What kind of monsters were these?!

Pisco stared in wide-eyed disbelief as his subordinates continuously collapsed. Gritting his teeth, he drew a handful of grenades and shouted with a forced display of bravado, "Do you really intend to betray the Boss? You know our reach—no matter where you run, you will be found!"

"Is that so?"

The voice suddenly ringing out right beside him made the already highly strung Pisco jerk his hand. The grenades dropped with a series of dull thuds and rolled away in all directions.

He tried to draw his gun, but suddenly felt a piercing pain shoot through the hand holding the weapon, immediately followed by the other hand.

It was an agony that penetrated straight to his bones. Then his field of vision elevated—he was being hoisted into the air.

At that moment, the gunfire ceased. The Organization members both inside and outside the house had been thoroughly eliminated, and Vodka's figure emerged from the darkness under Pisco's wide-eyed gaze.

"Boss, everything's taken care of."

At that moment, Vodka's silhouette underwent a drastic transformation in Pisco's eyes.

He felt as though he had been profoundly deceived.

Weren't they saying Vodka was just Gin's sidekick?

You call this a sidekick?!

He was practically Superman!

Before he could delve deeper, the stabbing pain flared once more.

Pisco instinctively looked down, and only then did he clearly see what Gin was using to restrain him.

Two spider legs, piercing directly through his arms.

The excruciating agony distorted his features and caused his entire body to tremble.