Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week

The sudden question caught Durant off guard, his mind flashing to the blasted door. Could it be that even people could be blasted apart?

A horrifying thought seared through his mind. What had puzzled him before—the ninja's body missing from the detention cell—now became chillingly clear. That Superpower wasn't limited to buildings; it could be applied directly to the human body.

Durant drew a sharp breath and answered truthfully, "Mediocre."

"I'm quite fond of fireworks," Aozawa said, one hand on his hip as he sashayed forward. It was a bewitchingly fluid movement, yet there was no sense of incongruity when performed by this body. "The beauty that blooms in an instant—it can be called art."

Kintaro glanced at him and laughed. "To dare approach me so defenselessly, you've got guts. Too bad you're not too bright!" The moment he finished speaking, Kintaro's feet pushed off the ground with force, charging forward like a wild bull.

He wanted to repeat his earlier trick, using Aozawa's body as a human shield to charge straight at Durant. His strategy was set: first, eliminate the armed enemy, then deal with the unarmed one.

THUD!

Upon impact with Aozawa's body, Kintaro immediately felt a very peculiar sensation, as if he had struck empty air. Yet, unlike air, a visible man stood before him. This strong sense of incongruity greatly surprised Kintaro.

Is this force dissipation? Kintaro stepped back, a grave look in his eyes. His strength was enough to flip a rampaging bull. He was confident in his own power, but martial arts weren't won by strength alone. He knew there were martial artists in the world adept at dissipating force. A punch landing on them always felt like hitting cotton. The man before him undoubtedly struck Kintaro as a master skilled in this art. Kintaro's eyes narrowed with seriousness; he detested such martial artists. Regardless of their actual strength, such people were incredibly difficult to kill.

"You guessed wrong," Aozawa shook his head, indicating he wasn't skilled at dissipating force.

Kintaro roared, "No matter what, you're going to die here today!" For him, fighting didn't require a complex reason; if he was in a bad mood, he could pick a fight.

Kintaro's right foot stomped heavily on the ground. He then arched his back, gathering all his strength. It erupted from his spine with a rapid series of cracks, like soybeans popping, as if a great dragon were taking flight behind him. The explosive power surged into his right arm, and he recklessly threw a powerful punch forward.

The strike was so fast that Aozawa had no time to raise a hand in reaction.

With a mere thought, a gray filter covered the world before his eyes.

The fist stopped perilously close to the side of his face.

Aozawa stepped back, his right hand covering Kintaro's fist. He activated his X-ray Ability, seeing clearly the muscles and blood vessels in Kintaro's right arm.

An invisible telekinetic force gripped from within.

Time resumed its flow.

"AAARGH!" Kintaro let out a scream of agony. His once-menacing right fist suddenly went limp, as if the muscles in his right arm had been twisted and knotted together. He nearly buckled to his knees, cold sweat pouring from his forehead from the intense pain.

"Martial arts are outdated."

Kintaro looked up. He saw a black Chrysanthemum pattern had appeared on his right arm—he didn't know when. He had no memory of ever getting such a tattoo. His eyes full of astonishment, he demanded, "What the hell have you done?"

"Detonation," Aozawa calmly spoke the word.

Intense heat burst forth from Kintaro's right arm. The black Chrysanthemum pattern rapidly cracked before his disbelieving eyes. Flames erupted outwards. He watched his right arm dissipate like sand in the wind. The cracks then spread over his entire body at the speed of light.

BOOM. Not even a speck of ash remained on the ground, only a golden pendant clattered down.

Durant, witnessing this from behind, felt a chill of fear. If my identity were exposed, perhaps I would meet the same end as this man. He swallowed hard. Blowing someone up without leaving a trace—this was the power of the only known Superpower User. Such god-like power.

Shock filled Durant's heart. This wasn't the first time he'd seen someone blown up. However, those killed by bombs or grenades were still within the realm of common sense. But death by Superpower was an entirely different spectacle.

Aozawa turned and said, "The Metropolitan Police Department won't go easy on you anytime soon. I've got you a submachine gun for self-defense."

"Where is it?" Durant asked. He felt the submachine gun was too large, unsuitable for concealment, and not as convenient as a handgun. But he didn't voice such complaints. Everything Dio says must be a test of my abilities. He's a Superpower User; naturally, his expectations for subordinates are very high.

In reality, Aozawa hadn't thought that deeply about it. A submachine gun has more potent firepower; it'll be more entertaining for Durant. As for how Durant will conceal it, that's his problem.

"It's in my hands."

"You..." Durant looked at Aozawa's hands, about to say there was nothing, when he saw a submachine gun appear. His empty hands suddenly produced a submachine gun?!

"Is this... Can you just take a submachine gun from the SAT team whenever you want?"

"You could say that," Aozawa smiled. He wouldn't admit the truth: that he'd actually hidden the submachine gun in a corner of the alley, then walked to a nearby position and used his time-stop ability to retrieve it. Explaining things thoroughly spoils the mystery. For instance, before a certain centenarian's time-stop ability was revealed, everyone thought his power was incredibly formidable. But after his ability was revealed, while still impressive, some of his prior actions were just begging to be ridiculed. Like the endless staircase, the inescapable car, or comical uses of time stop such as diving between someone's legs to dodge a spiderweb.

"Dio, you truly are a man full of surprises!" Durant suppressed his shock, for the first time doubting whether the CIA could win against Dio. Even the world's most powerful nation, with the greatest military might, would find it no easy task to deal with Dio. Can we win? Durant looked at the man before him, feeling very unsure.

Aozawa tossed the submachine gun to him. "The heat is on lately, so be careful. If you need to resupply ammo, come find me here in Shinjuku. See you."

With those words, he switched to his Schrödinger's Cat state of non-existence, disappearing from the spot and reappearing in a private room at Human Paradise.

「...」

"...No anomalies." The reports coming in from each team made Team Leader Emily anxious. She hadn't stayed at the special task force's base waiting for news; instead, she was inside a military helicopter with Katerina and the others.

Unlike the fully armed SAT members, Emily wore a Gothic-style dress. Her blonde hair was curled into two pigtails, and she was wearing perfume. She had made up her mind. Staying at the base meant she wouldn't be able to contact Dio. Only by swallowing her pride and letting Katerina carry her when jumping from the aircraft could she appear before Dio. That way, she could interact with him and execute her 'honey trap' plan. She hadn't done so earlier because she found it too humiliating. However, if Katerina didn't hold her for the jump, she would have to rely on herself to climb down. This would make her far slower than the SAT team members, let alone someone like Okayama Buji. This was because she had acrophobia. Emily was utterly incapable of sliding straight down a rope; managing to climb down slowly already took immense courage on her part.

Damn it, it's already Dio's prime operating time tonight, so why hasn't he made a move? Could he be operating somewhere other than Shinjuku today? Emily bit her thumb. Driven by her desperate desire to meet Dio and her thirst for more information about Paradise, she couldn't maintain her usual composure.

Seated there, Morimoto Chiyoda spoke at a leisurely pace, "You could be a little more anxious."

"Hey, shouldn't you be advising me not to be anxious at a time like this?" Emily looked up.

Morimoto Chiyoda shrugged. "Your agitation calms me down, so please, feel free to get even more flustered. I don't mind at all."

"Are those even human words?" Emily grumbled. The anxiety in her heart began to dissipate; she didn't want to carry Morimoto Chiyoda's stress for her.

Just then, Iwaki Kususuke sent a message. "Hello, Team Leader Emily, a message arrived from the Metropolitan Police Department: two officers have died in Kabukicho Ichi-chome. A golden pendant was found at the scene. In a high-end club nearby called Human Paradise, an incident was also reported. Sumitomo Jiro, the second son of the Sumitomo Group, and the eldest son of the Ikeuchi Construction Company... a total of seven people, had vanished from a private room. The hostesses accompanying them said a blond man had entered and caused them to fall into a deep sleep. I suspect that man is Dio."

So he didn't kill any Yakuza, choosing to eliminate the sons of tycoons instead, huh. Emily muttered, then sensed something was amiss. If Dio did this, why would the two officers' bodies still be there?

"Let's not stay in the helicopter. We need to go to the scene and investigate."

"I think even if we check, we won't find anything important," Morimoto Chiyoda offered a contrasting view. "It would be better to continue patrolling here and see if Dio makes another move." Those people are dead. Given Dio's usual habits, it's highly unlikely he left any significant clues. We're better off staying airborne to see if we can catch him.

Emily thought for a moment and said, "Let's split up then. Katerina and I will investigate. The rest of you, continue patrolling by air. Iwaki, report any developments immediately."

"No problem," Iwaki Kususuke's voice came through the communicator.

The military helicopter slowly descended, hovering over Shinjuku's Kabukicho Ichi-chome. A rope was thrown out, and Katerina, holding the petite Emily, jumped straight out.

Emily knew she had acrophobia, yet she still glanced down, attempting to overcome it. The result was a terrified shriek: "AAAH!" It was an instinctive reaction, deeply embedded in her.

"Emily, sometimes you're truly inept but love to push your luck," Morimoto Chiyoda commented from the helicopter.

Okayama Buji couldn't refute that, nodding as he said, "You're right. She does sometimes enjoy tackling things beyond her capabilities."