Bab 33: Chapter 33
Kishibe furrowed his brow, his fingers lightly tracing a fresh scar just above his jawline that extended to his mouth. Despite the revelry of fireworks and celebrations ringing in the new year throughout Shibuya, the devil hunter found himself at a derelict mountain shrine on a hillside, stained with drying crimson liquid. He appeared indifferent to the festivities.
"1972!!!" A colossal sign, constructed from lightbulbs adorning a nearby skyscraper, illuminated the year.
"Quanxi," Kishibe warned, sensing her fingers prodding at his facial stitches. "You look like... Frankenstein." she said. He sighed, usually appreciative of her touches, but the irritation was evident. Quanxi noticed the flask he drew, its silvery sheen now stained with the red residue from her partner's hands.
"You've been drinking more recently," she observed. After three years of hunting Devils together, he knew her question delved beyond the surface.
"My face is ugly now," he replied matter-of-factly. "It always has been. But that's not why." she shot back
He retorted, "The devils are becoming more dangerous." He moved to the steps of the shrine, sitting down on the edge and crossing his arms over his chest. Quanxi remained standing to his right, and he could hear the distinct click of a lighter.
"Those things will kill you," he cautioned.
she retorted, "And devils won't?"
"A devil won't kill you slowly." Kishibe rose to his feet.
"Quanxi, I want to leave public safety," Kishibe stated. The woman paused, bringing her cigarette to her lips and inhaling deeply.
"And do what? Become a civilian devil hunter?" she responded, her voice tinged with skepticism.
"I don't know," he admitted, slowly taking the box of cigarettes from Quanxi's other hand. "You're growing soft, Kishibe," she stated. "When did you start caring about survival?" she asked.
Kishibe placed a cigarette in his mouth. Using his hand, he pushed her lighter away and pressed his cigarette against the lit end of hers. His eyes locked onto hers, holding his gaze as long as he could. Then, he stepped down the stairs and turned away from her, making his way out of the shrine.
"I guess when I found something worth living for," he murmured, leaving her with those parting words.
The archer was forcefully slammed against the alley wall, the stained red brick dust adhering to his back, leaving marks on his brown coat. Kishibe brought his foot down on the man's left wrist, the action barely straining his muscles, and a satisfying crack filled the air.
"I broke your carpus in your wrist. If you tell me your name, I'll take you to a hospital," Kishibe stated, giving the injured archer a choice.
The archer struggled not to make a sound, still reaching for his damaged hand. "You have 10 seconds before I cripple your hand," Kishibe warned. The old man held up a knife, dropping it onto the ground between the archer's legs. "I can cut pieces of you off if that's what it takes." Kishibe took a sip from his flask as he maintained his threat.
He heard a faint shuffling sound, a mere echo that bounced off the wall. "Quanxi," Kishibe thought, kicking the archer in the head with a resounding crack. He left the injured man there. "He'll only be unconscious for a few hours. Need to be back before then," he reminded himself as he leaped onto a rooftop, running toward the source of the faint sound.
Quanxi gazed over the horizon near the beach, her senses attuned to the environment. She heard a sudden crack and immediately recognized the signal.
"Kishibe."
With a swift, powerful motion, Quanxi dropped into a squatting position and launched herself into the air, vanishing from the ongoing fight. Her abrupt disappearance left her comrades bewildered, particularly the fiend with the peculiar ponytail, Pingsti.
"Galgali," Himeno pleaded with the bird-masked Violence fiend. "Can you do something, please!?"
Himeno's ghost hand was tightly wrapped around the stitched fiend Tsugihagi's throat, while Tsugihagi's many leather tendrils, which exploded from severed limbs, coiled around Himeno. The two were locked in a supernatural stranglehold.
The Violence fiend raised his left arm, preparing to strike at something that was seemingly not there. "Sorry, ma'am," he murmured, and in a sudden burst, the suited portion of his left arm transformed into a mass of fabric. An unnatural amount of muscle spontaneously appeared on his arm, and without hesitation, his fist smashed into Pingsti's jaw, rendering the stitched fiend unconscious.
Tsugihagi, witnessing her teammate falling to the ground in an unconscious heap, released her leather tendrils and lowered her hands. Himeno, dropped to the ground, quickly raised her hands in a gesture of peace.
"Listen, we don't need to fight," Himeno implored, trying to calm the silent stitched fiend. "I don't know what's going on with you guys, but we can talk!" She hoped for a peaceful resolution to the tense situation.
Power emerged from a nearby bush, wielding a chair from the inn, which she swung onto the head of the fiend, sending them crashing to the ground. "Power, wait!" Himeno urgently tried to intervene, reaching her hand out in a futile attempt to stop Power. But Power had other plans, manifesting a sledgehammer made of blood and bringing it down onto the fiend's head, crushing it like a watermelon.
The Violence fiend, who had been observing with a look of pure shock, couldn't comprehend what had just transpired. "Power, why would you do that?" Himeno half-yelled, her disbelief evident. "They were just standing there; they were practically asking for it!" she reasoned, raising her hands in an attempt to make sense of the situation.
Just then, someone inside the inn turned on the lights, illuminating Power's figure from behind. She basked in the newfound attention. "They turned the lights on in respect for me! Power, the strongest of them all!" She declared proudly, standing in front of the window. She noticed a young child struggling to reach the switch and barely managing to turn on the lights. Power raised her arms in the air and strode over to Pingsti.
"Begone, foul weak creature!"
Power's triumphant proclamation was abruptly cut short as a bullet pierced her stomach, sending her tumbling backward and crashing onto the ground.
The young boy inside the inn, in a flicker of courage, turned out the lights, shrouding the scene in darkness once again.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone