NOVEL WEB Ch. 66
The lead car and the second one behind it tear off like bats out of hell.
Red lights? Meaningless. Demon cultists don’t stop for traffic.
The intersection goes to shit. Gunfire erupts. Cars scream in from every direction like a pack of wild animals.
In the front seat of the lead vehicle, Imito Kurenagi keeps whipping around to check the rear.
The gunfire’s fading behind them now. Through the back window, he sees a massive wreck choking the intersection.
No one’s getting through that mess.
“Haah, haah, haah… slow down, dammit! We’re gonna crash!”
“Y-yes, sir! Right away, Boss!”
“Haah... that bastard Avenger... how the hell—?”
“We saw him go into the hotel! He had to be caught in it!”
“Of course he was caught in it! We all saw it! He got buried under that rubble, no question. And then…”
Kurenagi cuts himself off. Something impossible sits heavy in his throat.
“And now he’s chasing us.”
“Maybe getting crushed didn’t bother him?”
“Could he actually use mana?”
“Was the intel off?”
The men in the car start grasping for answers, one after another, trying to bury the rising panic.
“No. None of that matters.”
Kurenagi snaps them back with a snarl.
“That was a two-hundred-meter skyscraper. It collapsed. This isn’t about mana armor anymore. I don’t care if the intel was wrong. I don’t care if the Avenger can use mana—hell, even if he’s a full-on noble mage—nobody walks out of that.
Not alive. Not with a thousand-percent body enhancement. There’s a limit to what flesh can take!”
“...But he’s still alive, isn’t he?”
“I know that! You think I need you to tell me what I already know?! Stop running your damn mouth before I rip it off!”
He slaps the speaker across the face. Hard.
If the guy didn’t have demonic protection, his skull would’ve folded like a paper plate.
“Should we... go back to the bar?” The driver’s voice wavers.
“Call. Whoever’s left. I’m calling HQ.”
“Uh, Boss, should we… should we head back to the bar?”
“Did you call them yet? Hurry the hell up!”
“I’m on it! I’m calling now!”
“So we’re going back to the bar, right? Right, Boss?”
“JUST CALL ALREADY! Find out if they took care of Ikaku Akamuro! Now! RIGHT NOW!”
“I-I’m calling! No one’s picking up!”
“The bar’s fine, though, right?! We’re going back, right?!”
“Just call anyone still breathing!”
“How the hell are we supposed to know who’s still alive?!”
“Huh? That car...”
The driver stares into the rearview mirror, voice low and stiff.
A busted-up NSX barrels down on them—dented bumper, caved-in hood, shattered windshield—and closing fast.
Everyone in the car holds their breath.
They all know. He’s coming.
“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”
“This is bad, this is really bad, Master Kurenagi!”
“Why the hell are you driving like a grandma?! MOVE!”
“But Boss, you said slow down—!”
“I said don’t crash! Not let him catch up! I didn’t think I needed to spell that out! FLOOR IT!”
“That car’s fast!”
“Turn right! There! Use the traffic—we’ll lose him in the crowd!”
The two vehicles dive into a tangle of rush hour traffic, weaving through like sharks in a bait ball.
They tear up the elevated highway ramp—four lanes wide, spiderwebbed across the center of Akai City.
Five million people live here. The roads twist in loops and layers, overpasses stacked like a damn concrete jungle gym. The kind of place where chaos thrives.
Ikaku Akamuro guns it in his mangled NSX. One hand on the wheel, the other gripping a Five-seveN. He leans out the driver’s side and starts blasting.
The shots go wide. Even for Ikaku, hitting a tire at this speed, with one hand, is pushing it. He burns through the mag, tosses the empty pistol onto the passenger seat, and pulls out his hand axe.
“The tire. Can you hit it?”
Piece of cake.
He hurls the axe one-handed without missing a beat.
It arcs clean through the air and buries itself in the fleeing car’s rear wheel.
The tire explodes. The car flips.
It crashes through the guardrail, drops like a stone, and slams into the ground below. A fireball rolls into the sky.
Inside the falling car, Kurenagi and his men watch the inferno bloom in the rearview, stunned silent.
Up above, Ikaku raises his hand from the driver’s seat.
The axe comes whirling back like a loyal dog and slaps into his palm.
“What the hell was that?!”
“A magical tool?!”
“This is bad! Boss, he can hit us!”
“Intercept him! Now! Get on his car! Smash the engine! If that thing can’t move, he’s done!”
The two guys in the back seat drop the disguise. Eyes go black. Nails turn to claws. Teeth sharpen to fangs. Their humanity melts into raw, demonic rage.
Doors fly open. They crawl onto the roof and start leaping across the traffic—car to car, each leap closing the gap.
“The one on the right. Here we go. Three. Two. One—”
Thunk.
Ikaku’s axe punches straight through the leaping Demon’s chest.
The body ragdolls through the air, bounces off a van, and gets pancaked under a garbage truck.
“RRRAAAAARGH!”
The other demon lands on the NSX, claws rip through the hood. It winds back to crush the engine.
Ikaku doesn’t even blink.
He holds out his hand. Waits for the axe.
It’s still coming back. Too far.
“Move.”
He reaches behind the seat, draws Alek’s Shotgun, sticks his hand out the window, and fires.
BOOM.
Slug mercury round.
It blasts through the Demon’s ribcage and paints the highway in gore.
What’s left of the body gets shredded by oncoming traffic.
Kurenagi’s drenched in cold sweat. He grips his head like it might split open.
“Mana or not, he’s just a normal guy! Mercury bullets aren’t supposed to have that kind of firepower! What is that gun?!”
“Boss! It’s the axe, it’s coming back!”
“Dodge it!”
“I can’t!”
The driver screams at the rearview as the spinning axe closes in.
Ikaku holsters the shotgun. One hand on the wheel. The other snaps out.
He catches the Axe of Price and throws it.
Whump.
It drills into the rear tire of Kurenagi’s car. The rubber explodes. The whole vehicle skids, flips, and goes flying off the overpass.
Ikaku eases to a stop and steps out.
Swaps mags in his SCAR-H.
And starts firing into the wreckage below.