Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week

Rumi Yoshizawa unzipped the duffel bag to check its contents: twenty-three shiny watermelon knives. Considering how sharp the blades were, they were suitable not only for cutting watermelons but also for cutting people without any issue.

She zipped it back up. "Shinjiro, you carry the bag. Let's go."

Entrusting the task of carrying the bag to Dohashi Shinjiro was a sign of her trust in him.

"Yes."

Dohashi Shinjiro responded, picking up the bag with his right hand and following them downstairs toward the train station.

As they passed a sign prohibiting dangerous items on board, a cold smile flickered across Rumi Yoshizawa's face. Surveying the station, devoid of any security checks, she said in a low voice, "This is the incompetence of the nation."

Handing over the lucrative metropolitan rail transit system to large corporations instead of keeping it state-owned has led these companies to cut budgets to maximize profits, with no regard for passenger safety. However, those in charge still use 'passenger safety' as a pretext to justify budget cuts. A single incident of a poison gas device being placed in a subway trash can was enough for them to start reducing the number of trash cans in stations. Eventually, trash cans were removed from stations altogether. After a subsequent incident involving gasoline, their cost-saving 'solution' remained the same: simply posting signs prohibiting dangerous items. They would rather gamble on criminals possessing a sense of public decency than spend an extra cent on security checks. Ultimately, if anything happens to the passengers, it's not their problem. They've issued their warnings; it's the fault of lawbreakers for not complying. What else could they possibly do?

This behavior left Dohashi Shinjiro speechless.

According to the training I received, matters like this should be handled covertly, ensuring outsiders remain unaware, he thought. Discussing such things loudly in public, with other members even nodding in agreement—it's unimaginable. This world has gone mad.

The higher-ups still haven't reached a decision, Dohashi Shinjiro thought despondently. Are they going to provide support or not? Honestly, I don't believe a lunatic like her could actually prompt Lord Dio to act.

「...」

Curtis didn't know if the CIA would provide protection. All she knew was that the higher-ups had decided to fully support Rumi Yoshizawa's plan. Ever since the KGB pressed Mitsui for details, Curtis had distanced herself from Yuzuki, switching from overt to covert operations. She shed her Interpol officer identity, and even the persona of Sister Mayers was discarded. She belonged to no one, yet she could be anyone. If a mission required it, becoming Jack's wife, Zhang San's sister, or Takeda's elder sister was all the same to her.

Curtis wasn't with the KGB; she was part of the Kremlin's honor guard, loyal only to the President. The country's situation was dire, deeply mired in war. The Kremlin, more than anyone, yearned to contact the Superpower User Dio, hoping to acquire Superpowers and thereby gain a decisive advantage on the battlefield. They also hoped Superpowers could rejuvenate the President, allowing him to continue leading the nation.

Russia's only hope for a future lies with that leader. This had been ingrained in Curtis from a young age. For his sake, I would do anything, even act as bait, she thought.

She attached a silencer to her sniper rifle. She was positioned on a high platform of a building in the Chiyoda District, 1,300 meters from the Prime Minister's residence. Her mission was to snipe the guards at the entrance; the DGSE would handle the situation inside.

The bullying attitude of the United States had, ironically, led to some improvement in the already shattered relations between Russia and France. Driven by common interests, France always knew how to be flexible.

I don't know how they'll handle things inside, Curtis thought, but I just need to do my part.

She silently prepared.

Her phone BEEPED. Curtis opened the chat room. A message had arrived:

"Hokkaido's scenery is really nice!"

"Is it? Then I'd like to see," Curtis replied, confirming she'd received the assignment. She lay prone, her eye to the sniper scope, quickly acquiring a view of the Prime Minister's residence.

Curtis was already well-acquainted with the security arrangements at the Prime Minister's residence. Security was provided by the Metropolitan Police Department's Security Bureau, Protection Section, totaling 240 officers divided into four units, each with distinct responsibilities. The First Special Police Unit, comprising just sixty officers, was specifically responsible for guarding the Prime Minister's residence.

That might not sound like many, but this was the nation's seat of power. In the event of an attack, reinforcements from the Metropolitan Police Department would arrive swiftly, potentially even mobilizing the Maritime Self-Defense Force. Thanks to the robust defenses of the Prime Minister's residence, sixty officers were considered sufficient to repel an assault long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

Curtis gazed through her scope at the guards near the entrance, aimed for one's head, and squeezed the trigger.

PFFT. A soft sound escaped the rifle.

Through the scope, she saw the head of the guard at the entrance erupt in a spray of blood. The guard collapsed.

She quickly shifted her aim.

The guard on the right reacted quickly, immediately trying to dive through the doorway for cover.

Curtis pulled the trigger again. This time, her shot missed his head but struck the guard's thigh.

"AH!"

The guard screamed and fell. Survival instinct made him endure the excruciating pain as he crawled towards the Prime Minister's residence.

"Shinji!"

Someone inside reached out to help, but in the next instant, their outstretched hand was hit, recoiling violently. Half of the hand was blown off, falling to the ground. Blood sprayed onto the ground. The man stared at his mangled hand, blinked, and only then did the searing pain register in his brain. "AHHHHHH!" He writhed in agony on the spot.

"Call for backup! It's a sniper!"

"No use! The external network has been cut!"

Several guards were panic-stricken. How could someone cut off our network communications here? These attackers are no ordinary thugs!

"Quick! Shut the door!"

At this moment, their own safety was paramount; they couldn't worry about the colleagues still trying to crawl inside. One guard moved to close the door, hoping to buy time. The other departments weren't fools. If the Prime Minister's residence suddenly went silent, they would undoubtedly send someone to investigate.

"Don't close that door! Keep it open!"

Hearing this command, the guards turned and saw it was their superior, Minister Taguchi, the one in charge of defense.

"Minister Taguchi, what's happening?"

Minister Taguchi's face was grim. He didn't know what was happening, only that his wife, children, and parents had been kidnapped. To save his family, Minister Taguchi had to risk life imprisonment by participating in this incident. Acts of subordinates overthrowing superiors are not unheard of in Japan.

"All of you, shut up!" Minister Taguchi snarled. "Don't say anything about what happens today, and don't do anything. Otherwise, you'll end up like them."

His words made the guards draw a sharp breath. The regime is about to change, flashed through their minds.

"What are you all gawking at? Get back to your rooms!" Minister Taguchi yelled.

What happens next? Minister Taguchi wondered. I don't know. But someone very high up must be orchestrating this. My family's whereabouts are top secret, not information ordinary people can access. The masterminds haven't shown themselves or given me direct orders, probably because they're prepared for the possibility of failure.

I'm just a pawn, Minister Taguchi knew. But I have no choice but to follow their script. If I don't, my family dies, and so do I.

The guards exchanged glances, their eyes falling on their two colleagues—one with a severed hand, the other with a gaping wound in his thigh. Their moans had become very faint, but blood continued to flow.

GULP. No one was willing to die for the Prime Minister. By unspoken agreement, they turned and left.

"Save me..." the guard with the severed hand pleaded weakly.

Minister Taguchi glanced at him, then turned away, his face devoid of expression. My part in this is over, he thought.

「...」

Rumi Yoshizawa walked towards Nagatacho. The street seemed unusually deserted; no one else was in sight. The main gate of the Prime Minister's residence, a symbol of power, stood wide open. Someone was collapsed in the entryway.

Surprise flickered across her face as she strode forward. The dead man at the entrance looked like he'd been shot in the head. Another lay nearby, his thigh pierced, a pool of blood spreading around him. Further in, someone was on the ground, a hand severed. Both were only faintly breathing.

"What's going on here?" one of her followers asked, bewildered.

Dohashi Shinjiro's expression darkened. He also wanted to understand what was going on. This clearly wasn't the CIA's doing. If it were them, they wouldn't need to resort to such bloodshed to intimidate anyone. Are other factions trying to use Rumi Yoshizawa as a test?

"HAHA!" Rumi Yoshizawa threw her head back and laughed, her face alight with manic excitement. "This is all according to Lord Dio's plan! Lord Dio has orchestrated this to help us achieve greatness!"

As she spoke, Rumi Yoshizawa strode into the residence. Her iron will and inflammatory words greatly roused her followers.

"That's right, Chairman!"

"Everything is within Lord Dio's expectations!"

Hearing the fervent cheers from behind, Dohashi Shinjiro sighed inwardly. They're all insane. Completely insane. No point overthinking it. Just go in, he thought, following them.

After a few steps, Rumi Yoshizawa suddenly stopped and turned. "Shinjiro, open the duffel bag, quickly! Everyone, grab a knife! Find the Prime Minister and the other Ministers! Only by taking them hostage can we force the TV stations to come for an exclusive interview! I hear the windows in the Prime Minister's residence are bulletproof. As long as we hold the doors, we don't need to worry about outside reinforcements! Drag those three injured guards inside and take their guns. I don't want too much commotion before we formally begin."

Dohashi Shinjiro was speechless. On one hand, she's not completely reckless—she knows enough to hide the bodies and secure the main entrance to prevent outsiders from realizing what's happened. On the other hand, twenty-three people storming the Prime Minister's residence armed with knives... that's not something any sane person would do.

"Yes."

Three of them stayed behind to collect the guards' weapons. Then, with excited expressions, they dragged the bodies further into the residence, closed the main door, and officially commenced their operation.