Anime Crossover: Eating Evil in a Daily World — Chapter 87

Chapter 87: The Strongest Man in the Metropolitan Police Department

Mr. Yozora, an outstanding and upstanding citizen, and Yagami Soichiro, the Criminal Bureau Chief of the Metropolitan Police Department, had reached a remarkably friendly consensus.

Their mutual cooperation was as solid as steel.

“A bomb!?”

Hearing Yagami Soichiro’s stark warning, every single officer in the Metropolitan Police Department froze in place. No one dared to act rashly.

Bombs came in many varieties. Those who strapped crude grenades to their chests were nothing more than amateurs. Even if a standard grenade went off, the primary lethal factor wasn’t the blast itself, but the area-of-effect damage caused by high-velocity shrapnel. The officers had their armored vehicles for cover, and the SWAT units were fully equipped with heavy ballistic vests. If the masked man simply had grenades under his coat and detonated them right now, the only guaranteed casualty would be Yagami Soichiro.

But if it was a highly advanced, compressed explosive…

It was no exaggeration to say that a detonation of that caliber would instantly level everything within a several-hundred-meter radius.

The Kyoto Municipal Museum was currently hosting a massive exhibition. It wasn’t just the legendary Onimaru Kunitsuna resting inside those walls; countless other priceless national treasures passed down through Japanese history were on display. If a bomb of that magnitude went off here, the Kyoto Metropolitan Police Department would be nailed to the pillar of historical shame for the rest of time.

As that apocalyptic image flashed through their minds, a cold sweat broke out across the backs of the surrounding officers.

“Don’t… don’t do anything impulsive!”

Seeing that the bluff had succeeded, Yagami Soichiro’s mood was incredibly complex. Still, he shot a sharp glance at a subordinate stationed in the distance.

The officer immediately understood the silent command. He raised his walkie-talkie and issued the order. “Snipers, hold your positions. Stand by. Do not open fire without explicit orders.”

Time was running out, and with their commander-in-chief actively being held hostage, the tactical situation was a complete mess. Modern black-market technology was more than capable of producing biometric bombs that monitored the user’s heartbeat, rigged to automatically detonate the second that pulse flatlined.

They simply couldn’t risk taking the shot.

Holding Yagami Soichiro hostage with one hand and leading Yotsuya Miko with the other, Yozora walked brazenly through the sea of armed officers. He approached a standard police cruiser, casually extending his hand toward the terrified officer taking cover behind the hood.

“Give me the keys,” Yozora said, his voice perfectly calm.

Catching a subtle nod from Yagami Soichiro, the officer didn’t dare refuse. He shakily pulled the car keys from his pocket and slid them across the hood.

Yozora snatched the keys, yanked the passenger door open, and unceremoniously shoved the Criminal Bureau Chief inside.

Yotsuya Miko quietly slipped into the back seat, while Yozora took his place behind the wheel.

The moment the heavy car doors slammed shut, cutting off the chaotic noise of the police blockade, Yagami Soichiro frowned deeply and lowered his voice. “Can you even drive? Or should I take the wheel?”

In the back seat, Yotsuya Miko sat with a swirling mix of emotions.

‘For a hostage, you are being way too cooperative.’Wait a second.’Both of your names have Yagami in them… Could you two actually be relatives?’

Miko knew her internal theory was completely absurd, but she genuinely couldn’t fathom why the Criminal Bureau Chief of the Metropolitan Police Department was actively helping Yozora escape. She hadn’t been present to witness the moment Onimaru Kunitsuna recognized its new master.

That blade was a legendary artifact, a relic steeped in centuries of Japanese history. A sentient, Evil Spirit-slaying katana of that caliber had actually chosen Yozora of its own free will.

The shock still vibrating through Yagami Soichiro’s chest was impossible to put into words.

Of course, beyond the sheer awe of that moment, he also refused to see his subordinates throw their lives away in a pointless bloodbath. And then there were the words Yozora had spoken to him.

For some inexplicable reason, despite having absolutely zero evidence to back it up, Yagami Soichiro felt that “Mask” was telling the truth. This man’s goal wasn’t to plunge society into chaos. Combined with the stunning image of the masked man sheathing the legendary sword… a strange, quiet sense of reverence had actually taken root in the veteran detective’s heart.

“No problem at all.”

This particular police cruiser was an older model. It didn’t even have an automatic transmission; the center console housed a manual gear stick.

Just as Yagami Soichiro opened his mouth to speak again, Yozora gave his indifferent reply. In one impossibly smooth, practiced motion, Yozora jammed the key into the ignition, fired up the engine, slammed his foot on the clutch, threw the stick into gear, and launched the car forward.

As a seasoned detective with decades of investigative experience, Yagami Soichiro watched that fluid sequence of movements and subconsciously logged another clue about the suspect’s true identity.

‘He can drive a manual, and his muscle memory is flawless. He’s definitely an older adult.’In recent years, very few young people ever bothered to get a manual transmission license. With the constant iteration of modern vehicles, finding a manual car on the streets was becoming a rarity. Combined with his terrifying psychological composure, this man’s life experience was clearly vast.’It is highly probable that he is a man somewhere between thirty and forty years old.’

Yagami Soichiro’s logical deduction was perfectly sound.

Unfortunately, it was completely wrong.

But he couldn’t really be blamed for the miscalculation. Leaving aside the minor detail that Yozora was a transmigrator, devouring thousands of Evil Spirits hadn’t just boosted his physical attributes and Psychic energy—it had also forcibly downloaded an absurd variety of professional skills directly into his brain.

‘I’ve been a veteran locksmith for thirty years; give me a single strand of dry instant noodles and I’ll pick every lock in your neighborhood! I’ve been a master electrician for thirty years; I can test for live wires just by grabbing them bare-handed! I’ve survived the romantic bloodbaths of the Shura field for thirty years; I can tell at a single glance if a girl’s bag is hiding sweet Valentine’s chocolates or a freshly sharpened meat cleaver!’

Trying to profile his true identity based on driving habits?

Yozora could only wish the Chief the best of luck with that.

“I… my god, drive! Drive slower!”

Watching Yozora absolutely floor the accelerator, violently ripping the gear stick from first to fifth gear in the span of two seconds, Yagami Soichiro panicked. He desperately grabbed the overhead handle, a rare look of sheer terror cracking his stern, square face.

‘Who the hell drives like this!?’

Yagami Soichiro could practically hear the decade-old police cruiser screaming in mechanical agony, letting out its final, frantic roar before death.

“My youth…” Yozora muttered, staring dead ahead, his entire being perfectly synchronized with the vibrating metal death trap. “Absolutely no regrets!”

“Whoosh!”

Watching the roaring police cruiser blast through the perimeter and rapidly disappear down the street, the remaining officers were left standing in stunned silence.

“Can that model… actually go that fast?”

“Did he just stand up out of his seat to step on the gas?”

“Is that thing not going to disintegrate on the highway?”

The officers were genuinely awestruck by Yozora’s ability to pilot a clunky, outdated manual cruiser like a ballistic missile, leaving their modern pursuit vehicles eating dust.

A heavy, muffled snort suddenly cut through the idle chatter.

The surrounding air instantly dropped by several degrees, plunging the blockade into dead silence. Every gaze slowly shifted toward a towering man clad in heavy, full-body riot armor, a massive tactical shield gripped in his hand.

They looked, but not a single officer dared to meet the man’s eyes.

“What an arrogant criminal.”

Akoya Seishu stepped forward. He opened the rear doors of a heavy riot van, unbuckled his tactical helmet, and tossed it into the back compartment alongside his shield. Without another word, he marched toward the driver’s side door and grabbed the handle.

“Officer Akoya!”

Seeing his intentions, one brave officer finally mustered the courage to intervene. “Our top priority right now is to sweep the museum for any remaining accomplices and assess the damage to the exhibits! The surrounding city blocks have already been locked down; they can’t get far. Let the pursuit units handle Chief Yagami’s rescue!”

Akoya Seishu slowly turned his head. He stared directly into the trembling officer’s eyes, his voice dropping into a chilling, mechanical cadence.

“Are you asking me to turn a blind eye to evil?”

Facing that emotionless, inhuman glare, the officer’s spine turned to ice. A cold sweat instantly soaked through the white dress shirt beneath his uniform.

Akoya Seishu didn’t waste another breath on him. He climbed into the driver’s seat of the riot van, violently revved the heavy engine, smashed right through the police barricade, and tore off down the exact route Yozora had taken.

He didn’t care about the priceless artifacts in the museum.

He cared even less about the personal safety of the Criminal Bureau Chief.

Akoya Seishu cared about exactly one thing in this world: the absolute punishment of evil, and the brutal execution of his own twisted justice.

Five minutes later.

“Ugh… hurgh…”

Yagami Soichiro leaned heavily against the damp brick wall of a narrow alleyway, bent double and dry-heaving violently. His usually stern, authoritative face was completely drained of color, pale as a sheet of paper.

Once the violent churning in his stomach finally subsided, Yagami Soichiro weakly raised his sleeve to wipe his mouth. He turned his head, looking at Yozora and Yotsuya Miko standing casually a few feet away.

Because of their masks, he couldn’t read their expressions. But judging by their relaxed posture and steady breathing, the two mysterious figures hadn’t been bothered by that suicidal joyride in the slightest.

“You two… are truly something else,” Yagami Soichiro gasped, his voice laced with genuine, exhausted admiration.

Yozora was a given. But the fact that the young girl’s psychological fortitude so vastly exceeded the limits of a normal human being was staggering.

Miko, meanwhile, was just confused.

‘We were only going a little over 170 kilometers per hour. Why is the Criminal Bureau Chief acting like he’s dying?’

Her heart was completely calm. In fact, she actually had to fight the urge to laugh at the poor man’s misery.

“Here.”

Yozora casually unclipped Onimaru Kunitsuna from his waist and handed the sheathed blade to the empty air beside him.

From Yagami Soichiro’s perspective, the masked man simply held the legendary sword out to the side, and then the weapon vanished into thin air.

The principle was exactly the same as Hachishakusama’s hidden blade. Physical objects, even those with deep spiritual resonance, were perfectly visible to ordinary humans. But the moment they were held by a pure spirit—like the Pale Ghost Hand currently hovering beside Yozora—the object’s physical form shifted, aligning closer to the frequency of an Evil Spirit. To a normal human eye, it simply ceased to exist.

Witnessing this blatant defiance of reality sent another massive shockwave through Yagami Soichiro’s mind.

‘The true face of this world… is it really this far beyond the comprehension of ordinary people?’

Who exactly were these two?

Onimaru Kunitsuna was a legendary blade, yes, but it was forged centuries ago. In terms of sheer metallurgical cutting power, it couldn’t hold a candle to a sword forged with modern techniques. Why go through all this trouble just to steal it?

Was it for the money? If it was just about financial gain, the main exhibition hall was packed with smaller, easily concealable treasures that were worth billions. Why leave them all behind?

Yagami Soichiro couldn’t even begin to fathom “Mask’s” true motives. In all his years on the force, he had never encountered a criminal this elusive, this unpredictable, and this utterly perplexing.

“Chief Yagami.”

After watching Yotsuya Miko step through a shadowy “door” in the air and vanish from the alley, Yozora finally turned his attention back to the veteran detective.

“I look forward to your reply.”

Yagami Soichiro remained silent.

He knew perfectly well that the ‘reply’ this man was asking for didn’t involve a phone call. An incident of this magnitude couldn’t be covered up. The Metropolitan Police Department had locked down a multi-kilometer radius; the media was already swarming. Within a few hours, the police and the museum officials would be forced to hold a joint press conference to explain today’s disaster to the public.

“Mask” didn’t need a burner phone. He just needed to sit on his couch, turn on the TV, and watch the broadcast like every other citizen in Japan. The official narrative presented at that press conference would be Yagami Soichiro’s final answer.

Just as the Chief opened his mouth to speak, a deafening screech of burning rubber echoed from the street.

A massive, armored riot van violently smashed into the entrance of the alley, scraping against the brick walls and completely blocking the only exit.

A second later, a towering man with a chiseled, granite-like face and dead, emotionless eyes leaped from the roof of the van. He held a heavy tactical shield in his grip. His heavy black combat boots slammed into a puddle on the asphalt, splashing dirty water across the pavement.

“Akoya…”

Seeing the man block their path, the color completely drained from Yagami Soichiro’s face.

“Chief Yagami. Step back.”

Akoya Seishu stood in the mouth of the dark, narrow alley like a mountain of iron. A heavy, suffocating aura of violence bled off his massive frame. He began to march forward, step by slow step. The edge of his riot shield scraped against the brick wall, emitting a horrific, grinding screech.

Akoya locked his dead eyes onto Yozora. There was zero emotional fluctuation in his gaze. He didn’t look like a human being; he looked like a cold, mechanical slaughterhouse drone.

“Accept the judgment of justice.”

“Akoya!” Yagami Soichiro barked, keeping his voice low but desperate. “He has a bomb on him! If it detonates—”

“I don’t care.”

Akoya Seishu cut his superior officer off without a second thought. “No matter the cost, evil must be judged by my own hands.”

A madman.

A complete and utter lunatic.

Though this was their first time meeting face-to-face, Yozora knew exactly who this man was. Just like Kure Raian, the psychotic brawler he had encountered previously, this man was one of the elite underground fighters qualified to participate in the Kengan Annihilation Tournament.

His moniker was ‘The Executioner’.

Compared to the violently unhinged, beast-like nature of Kure Raian, Akoya Seishu maintained a facade of absolute calm. But beneath that stoic exterior, his mind had long since been rotting away, entirely consumed by a twisted, bloodthirsty obsession with ‘justice’.

In Akoya’s eyes, this mysterious man in the black mask was a vile sinner who needed to be purged from the earth. He absolutely refused to let him escape the grasp of the police.

Not when he had already slipped away twice.

“Interesting.”

Watching the towering Executioner march toward him, a dangerous glint of excitement flashed behind Yozora’s mask. He didn’t retreat. Instead, he casually strolled forward to meet him in the middle of the alley.

The distance between the two monsters rapidly closed.

Ten meters. Seven meters. Five meters. Three meters…

Pressed against the wall, Yagami Soichiro felt his breath catch in his throat. The two figures standing before him didn’t feel human anymore.

The Metropolitan Police Department’s absolute strongest combatant, Akoya Seishu… versus the most terrifying, unpredictable criminal he had ever faced—a man who had casually dismantled over a dozen fully armed SWAT officers in under five seconds.

Who would walk out of this alley alive?

“Justice…”

Akoya raised the heavy riot shield on his left arm, forming an impenetrable wall. His massive right hand, thick as a bear’s paw, clenched into a brutal fist with the middle knuckle slightly protruding. Adopting a flawless, textbook police combat stance, he launched a devastating straight punch. The sheer kinetic force behind the blow tore through the air with a vicious howl.

“Execute.”

This time, Yozora didn’t bother dodging or intercepting the strike before it gained momentum. He simply threw a punch of his own.

The two fists collided in mid-air with a sickening, heavy thud.

The sheer shockwave generated by the impact rattled Yagami Soichiro’s ribcage from several feet away.

For the first time since he arrived, a tiny ripple of surprise broke through Akoya Seishu’s robotic expression. He frowned slightly, his voice dropping into a low growl.

“Your physical strength can actually contend with mine. You are indeed a supreme evil that must be eradicated immediately.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Yozora shook his head, his voice dripping with dry amusement. “I only used half my strength.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the flesh of his right arm had already morphed into the grotesque, terrifying form of a Ghost Hand. Because the monstrous limb was perfectly concealed beneath the fabric of his coat and gloves—woven entirely from his own spiritual energy—neither Yagami nor Akoya noticed the horrific transformation.

Yozora casually pulled his right arm back and threw another punch.

Sensing the lethal danger, Akoya Seishu instantly slammed his riot shield forward, bracing for the impact.

BANG!!!

Yozora’s fist slammed into the reinforced tactical shield with the deafening roar of a detonating artillery shell.

A terrifying surge of kinetic energy blasted through the heavy armor, shooting straight up Akoya’s arm and nearly dislocating his shoulder. His eyes, usually as dead and calm as stagnant water, finally widened in genuine shock.

He instantly realized his tactical assessment was fatally flawed.

They weren’t evenly matched at all. Despite having a massive weight and height advantage over the masked man, Akoya was being completely overwhelmed in raw, physical power.

Just as he tried to angle the shield to deflect the kinetic force and launch a counterattack, the shrieking sound of tearing air hit his ears again.

BANG!!!

Another explosive impact. Another devastating shockwave shattered his defense, sending agonizing pain shooting through his bones.

And that was merely the opening act.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A relentless, rapid-fire barrage of explosive impacts echoed through the narrow alleyway.

Under the sheer, overwhelming violence of Yozora’s right fist, the towering Executioner was completely suppressed. All Akoya could do was hunker down and hide behind his riot shield, gritting his teeth as the bones in his arms screamed in protest. The heavy rubber soles of his combat boots violently skidded backward, leaving thick black scorch marks across the wet asphalt.

Eventually, Akoya was forced to abandon his stance entirely, using both hands just to keep the buckling shield from caving into his chest.

But his massive body was still being bulldozed backward.

Yagami Soichiro watched the one-sided slaughter in absolute, paralyzing horror.

The Metropolitan Police Department’s ultimate weapon, the monster known as Akoya Seishu, was actually being utterly dominated in a close-quarters brawl?

Listening to the deafening, rhythmic explosions of flesh meeting metal, staring at the thick riot shield that was already violently caving inward, and watching the masked man throw simple, unrefined straight punches that carried the force of a wrecking ball… Yagami Soichiro felt his sanity slipping.

If a punch with that much kinetic force landed on an ordinary human body… wouldn’t it instantly liquefy their internal organs?

This guy…

Is he even human!?