Chapter 170

*- I prefer not to disclose my exact whereabouts just to be safe. I reside within Fukuoka Prefecture, and during this recent incident…*

*- …Just as I accepted that my life was forfeit, the entire area plunged into absolute darkness, and a figure materialized out of nowhere.*

*- The sheer terror caused me to lose consciousness, preventing me from getting a clear look at him, but I am certain it was a man clad in a dark garment wearing a bizarre, traditional mask. By the time my eyes opened, I was recovering in a medical ward.*

*- I have since returned to my residence after enduring an interrogation by the authorities, but I feel an overwhelming sense of detachment from reality, which prompted me to share this online. I cannot help but wonder if the entire ordeal was merely a vivid hallucination.*

Naturally, his operations resulted in direct interactions with a multitude of civilians, prompting several of them to recount their bizarre encounters on various digital platforms.

*- Well, this is certainly an entertaining read. When can we expect the next installment of this story?*

*- A vigilante operating in a traditional mask? What an incredibly cliché concept, haha. Still, it happens to be exactly the kind of fiction I enjoy (lol).*

*- Someone quickly locate the patient who escaped the psychiatric ward! Administer their sedatives immediately!*

However, the topic failed to gain traction as a major viral sensation and was swiftly ignored by the broader public, primarily because he took great care to eliminate any physical proof of his interventions, mimicking the stealthy tactics he used back in Korea. On the internet, where a ceaseless stream of fabrications circulated daily, even the most earnest eyewitness testimonies were routinely dismissed as the products of overactive imaginations.

Nevertheless, because Fukuoka City ranked among the most prominent urban hubs in Japan, a subtle shift in the atmosphere was becoming undeniable to many locals. There was a growing, unspoken consensus that the streets had become unaccountably more serene than usual.

As the days rolled on and the mysterious calm rippled outward from Fukuoka into adjacent territories like Kumamoto and Nagasaki, an increasing volume of correlative discussions began surfacing within localized web communities. While the phenomenon remained confined to a specific sector of Kyushu—the third-largest island in the nation—and had not yet captured national attention, residents sharing the same geographic space found themselves validating each other’s observations.

Yet, completely separate from the oblivious populace, the individuals who registered this phenomenon with the most visceral terror were—

“What in the name of sanity is occurring out there?! Does anyone possess actual intelligence?!”

“I pressed the contacts I maintain within the law enforcement ranks, and they confirmed the crime scenes are absolute slaughterhouses! It appears our associates have been completely wiped out…”

These were the syndicates of the criminal underworld, the very entities directly caught in the crosshairs. Whether they operated as loose confederacies or bitter rivals, every single syndicate was plunged into a state of maximum paranoia by this sudden onslaught. Communication lines were going completely dead as entire factions vanished overnight. It was glaringly obvious that a systematic campaign was being waged against their illicit enterprises, leaving them utterly terrified as they wondered who would be selected as the next sacrifice.

And then…

“Begin your briefing.”

The next faction to respond with intense gravity, initiating a rigorous counter-operation, was the Kyushu Regional Supernatural Bureau, an entity operating under the jurisdiction of the National Supernatural Committee tasked with policing Japan’s awakened population.

“Following an exhaustive forensic analysis of the coordinates and compiling testimonies from numerous surviving witnesses, the credibility of these accounts is remarkably high. We can treat this as an absolute certainty.”

“Hah, so the rumors were grounded in reality? What was the moniker again… Hahoe Mask?”

The regional director overseeing the awakened operatives within the Kyushu sector murmured the name with a look of profound skepticism. He was well aware of the rogue awakened individual who had achieved such notoriety in the neighboring peninsula. Up until this moment, he had been entirely convinced that the tales surrounding Hahoe Mask were nothing more than elaborate fabrications engineered by the Korean authorities for political leverage.

“This borders on the absurd. Are you telling me the exact rogue who turned Korea upside down has migrated to our shores and is actively disrupting the peace? By masquerading as a executioner of syndicates?”

The director’s mouth twisted into a bitter scowl. Setting aside the questionable ethics of the vigilante’s crusade, what self-respecting government official could possibly welcome an unauthorized foreigner encroaching upon their sovereign soil to exact frontier justice? To make matters worse, it was unfolding squarely within his own administrative zone.

*‘So he wasn’t just a myth cooked up by their media. The premier unranked powerhouse of Korea? What a pathetic joke.’*

How miserably low must they rate the security forces of Japan to cross international waters and instigate such an chaotic mess? The intruder was clearly operating under the delusion of invincibility, emboldened by a flashy title that held no legal weight.

“He is merely a solitary awakened operative.”

Now that the situation had escalated to this threshold, it was entirely irrelevant whether Hahoe Mask’s reputation was a manufactured legend or if Korea truly lacked the capability to restrain a single citizen. The issue had transformed into a direct assault on their national prestige.

“Tamura.”

“Sir! Present, Director!”

“It will be an absolute disgrace to our bureau if we fail to apprehend this target within our borders. Do I make myself clear?”

“Indubitably, sir! We shall demonstrate to the world that our capabilities far exceed those incompetent fools across the sea!”

“In the meantime, establish formal contact with the Returnee Association as a contingency. This individual has managed to destabilize half of the Kyushu territory in a matter of days. We must conduct ourselves under the assumption that his combat efficacy is genuine.”

While the target’s efficiency was undeniably formidable, it was nowhere near enough to force their retreat. The sole reason they had permitted the criminal underworld to persist for so long was due to their highly elusive networks and the complex political arrangements binding them to elite figures in government, not because the state lacked the military teeth to crush them.

*‘When you look at the larger picture, capturing an elusive asset that Korea was utterly powerless to suppress could work out beautifully for us. If we manage the press coverage correctly, this could serve as my golden ticket to a promotion into the metropolitan headquarters.’*

The strategy seemed entirely viable, provided they framed the narrative to highlight him as the most dangerous, unauthorized fugitive to escape Korea.

Thus, his mind drifting through visions of professional advancement, the director organized a specialized task force dedicated exclusively to hunting down Hahoe Mask, even coordinating with top-tier Guardians from the Japanese Returnee Association…

Yet, for several consecutive days following the launch of their aggressive sweeping operations, his grand ambitions failed to materialize.

They remained empty fantasies while Hahoe Mask steadily neared the complete annihilation of Kyushu’s criminal network.

—

*‘Good grief, these flies are becoming an absolute nuisance.’*

Hans registered his internal annoyance as he executed a precise, fluid sweep with his staff.

An array of grotesque, spectral hands erupted violently from the glowing arcane matrices he had pre-emptively anchored to the terrain, aggressively clearing out the immediate vicinity.

*Gooo—*

“Erect the barriers!”

“Receive the Grace of the Holy Spirit!”

A coordinated group of several dozen operatives managed to withstand the dark surge, executing a synchronized counter-offensive.

However, the combatants currently engaging Hans did not belong to the syndicates he had set out to dismantle. The Japanese apprehension unit, which had been relentlessly tracking his signature for days, had successfully anticipated his trajectory. They had concealed themselves near his intended objective, launching an organized ambush the moment he arrived.

*‘Given that this region is an island, the available hideouts for these syndicates naturally dwindle as my campaign progresses. And the target I selected for tonight happened to be the final stronghold remaining in Kyushu.’*

Unlike his initial run in Korea, where his response times were severely hindered by a lack of actionable data, the Japanese tacticians had effectively deciphered Hahoe Mask’s operational patterns. They successfully deduced his list of targets, allowing them to stage an intercepting force accordingly.

The culmination of that tactical foresight was unfolding in the present skirmish.

*‘I never encountered a faction that fought with this degree of sheer desperation back home.’*

Hans had operated within Korean borders for an extended duration, meaning he was no stranger to running into field agents from the Supernatural Ability Management Bureau or high-ranking Guardians. Yet, during those encounters, he typically prioritized evasion, and the authorities rarely pursued an lethal engagement, resulting in both sides silently agreeing to go their separate ways.

There were multiple variables behind that unspoken truce. The local agents might have been too intimidated to initiate a lethal conflict, or perhaps they secretly validated the morality behind Hahoe Mask’s purge. Additionally, the overarching mandate from the higher-ups to focus on peaceful apprehension and persuasion undoubtedly dictated their restraint.

Japan, conversely, possessed no structural ties to him, which forced their operatives to wage a desperate, high-stakes battle. Their uninvited interference was proving to be a massive irritation to Hans, who despised having his systematic purges disrupted by bureaucratic red tape.

*‘If these government dogs hadn’t kept biting at my heels, I would have finalized the cleanup of Kyushu days ago and transitioned to the next major territory.’*

While he calculated the most efficient method to sever ties with these persistent parasites and execute his original mission, a sudden sensory flash washed over him. He instinctively adjusted his palms against the surface of the bone staff.

He widened his footing, locking his boots solidly onto the concrete below. His lowered center of gravity provided a perfectly anchored foundation for his torso. His hips rotated with explosive torque, amplified by a sudden burst of internal mana that acted like a compressed spring.

Enveloped in an aura of concentrated dark mana, the staff traced a beautiful, lethal arc through the air—

“Gale Sword Style Secret Art! Whirlwind’s… Urgh!”

*Boom—!*

He connected squarely with the buffoon who had attempted a stealth assault from behind. The idiot had successfully masked his approach, only to ruin the entire element of surprise by screaming the absurdly long title of his sword technique at the absolute peak of his strike, resulting in him being blasted across the battlefield like a broken doll.

It was a flawless execution of physical form, bolstered by the passive tactical benefits of Heinrich’s “Path of Martial Arts.”

“That utter blockhead, executing a stunt like that given the stakes!”

“Furthermore… wasn’t that individual supposed to be an arcane caster? Where did he acquire that level of physical mastery…!”

Groans of frustration and sharp gasps of shock rippled through the enemy ranks simultaneously.

Yet, while the opposing awakened operatives were busy cursing out their unconscious comrade for his tactical blunder, Hans was internally experiencing a profound sense of respect.

*‘To possess the unyielding commitment to proclaim the title of his signature move even when his life is on the line… the man possesses genuine dedication and a poetic soul.’*

That structurally inefficient flamboyance represented the pinnacle of theatrical dominance—a luxury a master should only display when completely overwhelming an inferior opponent. It was incredibly arrogant of the swordsman to attempt such a display against him, but Hans could intimately comprehend the intoxicating rush of successfully landing a named technique against a powerful adversary…

*‘No, get a grip! I was on the verge of letting the theatrical impulses of ‘Hans’ override my logic.’*

His core personality, permanently driven by a pathological need for attention and dramatic flair, desperately craved that exact brand of showmanship, but this was a bridge too far. There had to be a boundary to how much operational efficiency he sacrificed for style.

[Hehehe— My itinerary for the evening is exceptionally tight, so let us draw the curtain on this performance posthaste. Dark Shadow Corridor!]

…Then again, indulging in it on rare occasions might not be the worst thing in the world. He was finally beginning to emphasize, if only a fraction, with the psychological motivations of Death Wizard Malcolm, who infamously insisted on reciting the verbal incantations for his spells every single time he manipulated the arcane.

—

Simultaneously, deep within the mountain ranges situated a safe distance away from the active warzone, a completely separate element was observing the chaos.

*- Target Hahoe Mask confirmed visually. Initiating the primary phase of the mission. All units, advance to your designated coordinates.*

*- Objective acknowledged.*

*- Understood.*

A collective of shadowy figures, their identifying markers completely obscured, began executing a silent, synchronized advance through the brush.