Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week

Once again, Eiji Takeda returned to Shinjuku. He couldn't help but think that he and Shinjuku seemed to have an unbreakable connection today.

The last time he visited Shinjuku was at the end of the year before last, to purchase some goods for the New Year's festivities. Yet today, he had come to this bustling district time after time.

He put on his doctor's coat, gloves, and mask, and picked up the patient's photographs.

The chest injury was very serious. Several bones were broken, and some had even pierced the lungs.

"Truly fortunate. If the bones had gone any deeper, the person's life would have been in grave danger." As Eiji Takeda looked at the photograph, a trace of emotion crossed his face. This patient was indeed lucky.

Onofre stood by, a smile on his face. "You're mistaken," he said. "It's not luck; these injuries were inflicted intentionally. The person who hit him meant to leave him in this critical but not fatal condition."

Eiji Takeda turned his head and glanced. "Such precision... is that even possible? Even sophisticated machinery would find it incredibly difficult to achieve that level of control."

"A powerful martial artist can. They don't need any specialized knowledge; relying solely on their combat instincts, they can judge precisely what force is needed to knock down, injure, or kill an enemy."

Onofre, hands in his pockets, wore an extremely excited expression. "The person who defeated Marco possesses this kind of strength," he said. "That's why I find this interesting."

Curiosity flashed across Eiji Takeda's face. "You roam the world just to find opponents stronger than yourself to fight?"

At these words, Onofre's expression darkened. He didn't reply; instead, with a lightning-fast jab, his left hand poked the wall beside him. Then, the spot where his finger touched formed a perfect circle, as if drawn by a compass. Dust from the wall trickled down.

Eiji Takeda watched this scene, his eyes widening as if he were seeing an evil spirit dance.

Onofre's finger hadn't just punctured the wall; it had turned a part of it into powder. If that were a human body, he thought, the flesh and blood would probably be no harder than this wall.

"There is no one in this world stronger than me, and I am not in pursuit of someone stronger than myself," Onofre said coldly, his gaze icy. "You need to understand: I am the world's strongest martial artist. Everyone else is merely a delicacy on my plate. My wanting to find him is like a person wanting to eat. Would you consider the roasted chicken on your plate an opponent?"

Eiji Takeda understood his line of thinking. Possessing such power certainly bred that kind of confidence.

"I understand. He will wake up by noon tomorrow at the latest."

"Haha, that doctor was right, Dr. Takeda. You are an excellent physician. Thank you for your care." Onofre laughed heartily, hands still in his pockets as he left the hospital room.

Although the fight had occurred on a busy street, the information provided by witnesses was too vague: a man in his thirties, bearded, wearing sunglasses.

Even with the CIA's resources, it was impossible to find a martial artist in Tokyo, either underground or operating openly, who fit the description. This forced Onofre to speculate that the adversary might have been brought in by MI6. Perhaps it was related to that large Eastern nation, Onofre mused. MI6 had certainly planted enough spies there; it would be normal to receive a warning for arousing their ire. The specifics would only become clear after questioning Mark once he awakened.

Mulling over these thoughts, Onofre exited the hospital. His mobile phone rang. He took it out and answered, "What is it?"

"Onofre, tomorrow you're coming with me to the Phoenix Academy estate for Kochou's birthday party."

"Hey, Director John, a businesswoman's birthday party... do you really need me as your bodyguard?"

"In a place where crowds gather, it's better to be cautious," John answered frankly.

He chose to accommodate Onofre, even at the risk of offending MI6, because he valued his strength.

In the eyes of ordinary people and martial artists alike, Onofre was indistinguishable from a Superpower User. This was the man who had snuck into the heavily guarded Buckingham Palace and urinated beside the King's bed.

"Alright," Onofre replied absentmindedly.

Rather than acting as a bodyguard, he was more eager to find that man in sunglasses. However, to avoid trouble from certain people, he needed the CIA's protection.

"Tsk, what a hassle," Onofre muttered, striding outside.

「...」

The next day at noon, the sky was overcast, without a hint of sunlight, and there were signs it might rain.

Aozawa left the academic building and, as was his routine, made his way around to the side of the club building.

The window of the Guzheng Club was open. He didn't have to call out—Hojo Shouko was already standing there.

Her short black hair covered her ears, and her fair face was etched with seriousness. She said earnestly, "Aozawa-senpai, please touch my face."

Taken aback by this unexpected "reward," Aozawa paused, not quite understanding. "You mean, you want me to touch your face with my hand?"

"That's right. Touch my face with your right hand, just like this, lightly," Hojo Shouko emphasized, even demonstrating on her own face with her right hand.

Throughout this demonstration, her expression remained very serious, without a hint of jest, conveying the solemn dedication of a researcher pursuing empirical verification. She had to find out whether the breeze from yesterday was an illusion or truly existed.

Natsuka Yanagimachi hid nearby, a mischievous "melon-eating" grin on her face. She had often been perplexed by Hojo Shouko's unique way of thinking, and now it was Aozawa-senpai's turn to experience the same bewilderment.

Aozawa hadn't anticipated that his playful tease would still be on Hojo Shouko's mind.

"Alright." Aozawa raised his right hand and, imitating Hojo Shouko, lightly touched her cheek.

It was smooth, like wet soap, yet different; there was no moisture, only a sense of dryness. Beneath the fair skin was a warmth that made Aozawa instinctively give it a light pinch.

THUMP!

Hojo Shouko felt her heartbeat accelerate for a moment. With a slight frown, she said, "Aozawa-senpai, my heart just beat so fast!"

"That's normal," Aozawa explained. "If someone of the opposite sex suddenly touched me, my heart would beat faster too."

"Really?" Hojo Shouko looked doubtful. She reached out with her right hand and touched Aozawa's cheek.

When her small, warm hand touched his cheek, she could indeed feel a tremor beneath the skin. Driven by curiosity, Hojo Shouko leaned in to observe Aozawa's expression more closely, completely forgetting to mind the distance between them.

Aozawa took a step back, embarrassed. "Shouko, please be mindful of the distance. There's a difference between men and women."

"Is that so? I was very rude just now, Aozawa-senpai, but you're right." Hojo Shouko nodded in agreement. Then, turning her head, she said to Natsuka, "Natsuka, what I told you yesterday was true. There really was a breeze that felt just like Aozawa-senpai's touch brushing against my cheek. Why would such a breeze exist?"

"How would I know anything about that when I don't even have a boyfriend?" Natsuka Yanagimachi rolled her eyes and responded irritably.

Hojo Shouko frowned, her mind sinking into contemplation.

Aozawa casually fobbed her off. "There are always unexplainable things in this world, Shouko. Don't overthink it. Just give me my bento."

"Okay." Hojo Shouko snapped back to reality and handed the bento to Aozawa.

He took the bento and headed towards the academic building. His usual lunch spot, weather permitting, was the rooftop of the academic building. Later, he also needed to get a cola and some bread for Hojo Tetsuji.

Eating that junk food every day for lunch and still developing so well... Hojo Tetsuji's physique was truly extraordinary, Aozawa mused.

「...」

In the afternoon, the bell signaling the end of the school day broke the campus silence, and the teacher left the classroom.

Phoenix Academy Maggie turned her head. "Aozawa, see you tomorrow."

"Are you heading back now?"

"Yes." Phoenix Academy Maggie smiled back. "I still need to get ready, prepare the venue, and decide on a gift for my mother. There's so much to do."

"Then I wish you all the best," Aozawa smiled in response. He also decided to check out the birthday party at the Phoenix Academy residence that evening. He wasn't just curious about how wealthy people threw birthday parties; he also wanted to see what Phoenix Academy Maggie's mother looked like.

"Haha, what could possibly go wrong at a birthday party?" Phoenix Academy Maggie chuckled, packed her school bag, said farewell to Nomura Makoto and Yoshikawa Sayuri, and then left the school.

Mike appeared behind her like a ghost.

Being an English teacher was just part-time; his main job was to ensure Phoenix Academy Maggie's safety.

Having been warned in advance, he didn't follow too closely, maintaining a distance of three steps. His muscular build and towering stature attracted many sidelong glances from passersby.

Mike didn't show annoyance; instead, he had the casual demeanor of a lion strolling through its territory.

He and Phoenix Academy Maggie took the train back to the Setagaya District.

Upon exiting the station, Butler Miwa already had the car waiting in the station's parking lot.

Phoenix Academy Maggie got in, and Mike hurriedly followed, sitting in the passenger seat.

Miwa said, "Fasten your seatbelt."

"Alright." Mike shrugged, not arguing, and fastened his seatbelt.

One had to know when to yield, Mike thought. Although he was merely an employee of the Phoenix Academy family, angering a senior colleague over trivial matters was clearly a sign of poor judgment.

Seated in the back, Phoenix Academy Maggie sank into contemplation. She mentally rehearsed her birthday speech for her mother, repeatedly checking for any part that might need correction, and also reviewed the guest list and photo album her mother had provided. At her mother's birthday party, it wasn't just business partners; some elders and younger members of the Phoenix Academy family who rarely made public appearances would also be attending. Phoenix Academy Maggie had to handle all kinds of relationships flawlessly, without any hint of impoliteness. Right now, she represented the future image of the Phoenix Academy family. Any lapse would cause people to blame her mother for a poor upbringing, something Phoenix Academy Maggie could not tolerate. She absolutely had to face this birthday celebration with her most impeccable demeanor.