Dimensional Kaguya Ōtsutsuki

As the dust settled, just when Akira Mado thought Kaguya had met a tragic end, the sight before her left her stunned.

Kaguya was still standing, her elegant katana blocking Yamori's massive fist.

"Oh my, that was close. Almost got hit there," Kaguya said with a light laugh, exerting force with her arm to hold the blade steady against the enormous fist. "But trash is still trash. Even if you're the king of trash, you're still just garbage. At best, maybe a salted fish. I think I'll call you the King of Salted Fish from now on."

"You little—"

Yamori roared in fury. His muscled arm suddenly swelled, and purple scales erupted from his body. Thick kagune wrapped around him like armor, his arm transforming into a grotesque, hammer-like structure. The sight was both menacing and revolting.

"So this is a Rinkaku kagune," Kaguya muttered, her eyes blinking with curiosity as she examined him. "Doesn't seem that special to me."

This form was Yamori's half-kakuja state, a power that had earned him his reputation as an S-rated ghoul.

Half-kakuja ghouls were significantly more formidable than regular ghouls. Their enhanced kagune granted them superior offense and defense, with regenerative abilities that far exceeded normal limits. However, this transformation was not without its costs—control was diminished, and the increased power came with a loss of clarity.

For weaker ghouls, achieving a half-kakuja state was simply beyond their reach. Only the strongest and most ruthless could even attempt it, as the process itself was extremely dangerous and required devouring fellow ghouls.

In his half-kakuja form, Yamori's already massive body swelled further, his muscles bulging like steel cables. Even from a distance, the oppressive aura he exuded was palpable.

"I'll kill you," Yamori growled, his voice low and filled with savage malice. "I'll tear you to pieces!"

Kakuja… Akira's eyes narrowed, her voice trembling as she tried to shout, "Be careful, he—"

Before she could finish, Yamori moved. He stomped the ground with such force that the pavement shattered beneath his feet. His massive frame shot forward like a cannonball, reaching Kaguya in an instant. With a roar, he swung his gargantuan arm, his fist slicing through the air like a battering ram aimed directly at her head.

"Turn to dust!" Yamori bellowed with a wicked laugh.

Facing the sheer force and speed of his attack, Kaguya didn't attempt to block it directly this time.

"For someone about to die, you sure are acting foolish. The one who should die… is you."

"What?"

Yamori's heart skipped a beat. Before his eyes, the black-haired girl was enveloped in a flash of white light, instantly moving a few steps back as if teleporting. The elegant katana in her hand disappeared, and in its place was an enormous longbow, taller than Kaguya herself. Its design was sleek and intricate, shimmering brilliantly even in the dim light.

What… is that?

While Yamori was still puzzling over the sight, Kaguya reached into a quiver on her back and retrieved an arrow. She nocked it onto the bowstring and drew it back, the longbow forming a perfect crescent under her steady pull.

"Any last words?" Kaguya asked, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "This is your last chance before you die."

"Are you kidding me?" Yamori roared, his teeth gritting in anger. "You think some child's trick like that can defeat me? Dream on!" His figure blurred as he surged forward, his massive fist hurtling toward her like a cannonball.

"I'm sorry, but your time is up."

Kaguya's black-and-white eyes flashed coldly as she tightened her grip on the bowstring. "It seems you have nothing left to say. Time to deliver justice from the heavens."

For reasons he couldn't explain, Yamori felt a sudden and overwhelming sense of dread. The girl's crisp, clear voice sent shivers down his spine, filling him with a primal fear that he hadn't felt in years. It reminded him of a specific moment—an encounter with a certain individual who had made him feel utterly insignificant, as if his life could be snuffed out like an ant beneath their heel.

And now, that same fear surged back, more intense than ever.

His eyes inadvertently met Kaguya's, and in that moment, his face went ashen. His pupils shrank to pinpoints, and his voice trembled as he shouted, "It's you!"

The memory of that day resurfaced vividly. That paralyzing terror, that absolute despair of facing an opponent so overwhelmingly powerful that he couldn't muster even the slightest resistance. In her hands, he was nothing but a helpless insect.

And the look in her eyes now… it was identical to that day.

It's her. It has to be her.

But before he could finish speaking, Kaguya's fingers released the bowstring. The arrow shot forward with a sharp snap, spiraling through the air with a piercing whistle. It tore through the atmosphere like a radiant comet, leaving a trail of blinding light as it hurtled toward Yamori.

Akira Mado, lying on the ground, froze in astonishment. The scene unfolding before her was beyond her comprehension. Yamori—an S-rated ghoul in his half-kakuja form—was trembling in fear. She had never seen anything like it.

After all, a ghoul's kagune, especially in the half-kakuja state, was harder than steel. Even with armor-piercing bullets, humans struggled to inflict damage on such beings. Yamori's body, clad in reinforced kagune, was supposed to be impervious to even heavy artillery.

And yet…

"Boom!"

A deafening explosion rocked the surroundings, the impact unleashing a massive shockwave. The force of the blast sent rubble flying, filling the air with a swirling storm of dust and debris.

As the swirling dust and debris in the air gradually settled, the scene before them slowly came into focus.

The street that had once stood intact was now an utter wasteland. Buildings on either side had been reduced to rubble, the ground was scarred and shattered, trees had been snapped in half, and streetlights and cars had been blown away. Shattered glass was strewn everywhere, and the faint smell of burnt debris lingered in the air.

"Ah… ahchoo, ahchoo."

A figure covered in dust emerged from the smoke, sneezing several times. Kaguya's face was smudged, and her hair disheveled.

What the hell! How can this bow be so powerful?

This didn't make any sense to her. She hadn't even used much chakra, yet the power of her attack had been amplified exponentially. What should have been the equivalent of a weak, makeshift Rasengan had somehow turned into an attack rivaling the Great Ball Rasengan.

It was utterly absurd.

Kaguya speculated that the arrow had an innate ability to amplify energy, drastically increasing the attack's power to an extraordinary degree.

But if the arrow could amplify energy...

A thought struck her. Her expression froze for a moment as she placed her pale fingers on the bowstring and gently drew it back. The bow curved into a half-circle, and to her surprise, a crimson arrow made entirely of light materialized on the string, glowing with a dazzling radiance.

This…

For some reason, the sight reminded her of the bow used by Red Archer—a weapon that relied on magical energy rather than physical arrows. Its attacks were formidable, and this bow seemed to operate on a similar principle.

The three physical arrows she had previously used, Kaguya surmised, must have been specially crafted to store immense amounts of energy. Their destructive power far surpassed that of the energy-generated arrows, which explained the massive devastation caused by her earlier attack.

Glancing around at the wreckage, Kaguya couldn't help but acknowledge the unexpected extent of the damage.

She moved toward the rubble, and as she approached, a round object tumbled down from a slanted piece of broken wall with a soft "thud" at her feet.

Looking down, she realized it was Yamori's head. His face had been mangled beyond recognition, riddled with deep wounds and covered in fresh blood. If not for his distinct hairstyle, she might not have identified him. As for his body, it had likely been blown to pieces during the attack.

Wait a minute.

Kaguya's expression stiffened as a realization dawned on her, followed by a helpless sigh. She had completely forgotten about Akira Mado.

Oh no. Could she have been killed in that blast?

If so, that would be bad. Akira was a rare gem, a woman poised on the edge of maturity with a frosty demeanor and striking beauty. It would be a shame if someone like her had perished.

Panicking slightly, Kaguya rushed toward the rubble and scanned her surroundings. Her sharp eyes soon caught sight of Akira, who was trapped beneath a large piece of fallen wall.

Kaguya hurried over and heaved the broken wall aside, revealing Akira's body beneath.

Fortunately, the wall had been stopped by an adjacent structure when it fell, creating a small triangular space that had shielded Akira from being completely crushed. Otherwise, she would have been reduced to a bloody pulp by now.

Though Akira Mado's body bore a few cuts and scratches from the rubble, it seemed she had escaped serious harm. Her injuries were superficial, and her breathing was steady, with a clear pulse. She didn't appear to have sustained any critical damage—likely, she had only fainted from the shockwave of the earlier explosion.

Relieved, Kaguya let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. If Akira had ended up as collateral damage, it would have weighed on Kaguya's conscience.

However, after confirming that Akira was unharmed, Kaguya's attention drifted to… other matters.

Akira's clothes were in disarray from the battle. Her jacket was completely ruined, and her inner blouse had been torn open, exposing her delicate shoulder. The strap of her camisole had been severed, causing her bra to slip, revealing a large portion of her fair, soft skin. Beneath the semi-transparent blouse, the outline of her plump, rounded curves was faintly visible, almost as if two bright eyes were gazing back at Kaguya.

Pulling her gaze away, Kaguya shook her head and chastised herself internally. This isn't right. Taking advantage of someone in this state? That's not fair to her at all.

For a moment, she stood motionless.

Then, breaking the silence, she muttered to herself, "She really does have an incredible figure… and the texture is just as amazing."

Kaguya's hands, with a mind of their own, began exploring Akira's chest, pressing and kneading, marveling at its softness and elasticity. "Not bad at all. As expected of a woman on the verge of becoming a full-fledged onee-san."

"Hey, have you touched enough yet?"

A cold voice suddenly interrupted her musings.

"Not yet," Kaguya replied absentmindedly, still savoring the sensation. "How could it ever be enough? They're so big—ow!"

A hand shot out and grabbed Kaguya by the ear, twisting her head around to face an icy glare from Akira, who was now wide awake.

"Uh, well…" Kaguya cleared her throat awkwardly and forced a laugh. "You might not believe me, but I was giving you CPR… heart massage, you know, to save your life."

"Do you really think I'd believe that nonsense?" Akira's tone was frigid.

"Ha-ha… ha-ha-ha-ha." Kaguya could only manage an embarrassed chuckle.

Akira pushed Kaguya's hands aside and used a piece of rubble for support as she struggled to her feet. She wavered briefly, nearly falling again, but when Kaguya moved to steady her, Akira swatted her away.

Frankly, Kaguya was lucky Akira had recognized she was a woman. If not for that, Akira would likely have been ready to fight her to the death.

Suddenly, Kaguya recalled something—there had been a few other low-ranking investigators injured during the earlier chaos. Hadn't there been some left alive when the fighting started?

Scanning the ruined streets, now desolate and empty, Kaguya frowned in thought. Did I accidentally kill them too?

Seeming to read her thoughts, Akira turned and said, "They were already critically injured before the fight started. Even if they'd been rushed to the hospital, there was no saving them. Don't feel bad—this is something every investigator faces."

Feel bad?

The notion was laughable.

Kaguya's carefree attitude wasn't one to dwell on the deaths of strangers she'd never met. She wasn't the type to mourn a few unfortunate souls who happened to cross her path.

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