Hardcore Exorcist: Reborn to Grind

—April 4th, 2036

The Akai Clan sent us another shipment—mercury bullets and Soulgear. Word is, the Coral Terminators are running shooting workshops for the rookie cops this year.

Both the Akai City Police and the citizens of this town ought to count their blessings. You don’t see many noble houses working hand-in-hand with law enforcement to keep the peace. Out of the Five Great Noble Houses, the Akai are by far the most generous to us regular folks.

That said, the private contractors are fuming. Claim the Akai are stepping on their turf, stealing their paydays. But from where I’m standing, they don’t know how easy they’ve got it. Back when I was working in Gunma, it was the damn Wild West.

Too much noble interference can feel suffocating. But having them ignore civilian affairs entirely? That’s worse. People don’t get that… but they should.

***

—April 8th, 2036

I’m getting nervous about that rookie in the Demon Countermeasures Division. Name’s Takuma Shijimachi. Already burned into my memory.

The kid’s too fired up. Thinks he’s gonna save the world and kill Demons with nothing but guts and bullets. He emptied over 300 rounds in training. I respect the passion, but our job is backup. If he doesn’t understand that, he’s gonna get himself killed.

The Division’s job is containment. We cordon off areas where Demons appear—or where they’re likely to. Yeah, we’ve got Exorcists on staff, and sometimes we fight. 

But we’re not hunters. We don’t go in guns blazing. We don’t have the firepower. We don’t have the authority.

Still, I get it. Happens to a lot of rookies. Give a normal guy a taste of mana, and he starts thinking he’s some kind of hero. But if it were that easy, no one would struggle to become one. I know that feeling all too well.

***

—April 9th, 2036

Writing this on the morning of the 10th. Last night was madness.

There was a Blood Moon. The Akai estate went up in flames. We deployed 1,200 officers to seal off the foothills. No way our Division could’ve handled that alone.

It was a nightmare. I saw something in the sky—something like a giant bird. No idea what Category that would be. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps. Luckily, it ignored us ground-level grunts and vanished into the dark.

Command was taken over by the old lady from the Akachi Clan. Thought she’d retired a decade ago. She looked a little thinner, but still scary enough to make grown men piss themselves. Police, fire, medics—everyone followed her lead, keeping their heads down.

No official statement yet, but we know there was a party at the Akai estate yesterday. A big one, for the daughters. Our Division was assigned security detail. The whole precinct is buzzing—conspiracy theories flying everywhere.

What’s going to happen to this city?

***

—April 10th, 2036

I don’t think there are any survivors. That’s my gut. Still no word from the Akachi matriarch. If even one person had lived, they’d have said something by now. That silence? It speaks volumes. I can’t believe it.

Are they really all gone?

Not a single survivor?

How is that even possible?

There’s a world out there that people like me can’t touch. A world of shadows, where even light has no say. A world ruled by the nobility. Something terrible is stirring. I can feel it.

***

—April 11th, 2036

Category 2 Demon incidents have doubled. Even the lower-tier ones are popping up three times as often. Probably the Blood Moon’s doing. Damn it all.

Even the gun shops in town got hit. Demon cultists again. They’re after weapons. Are they planning an uprising? I swear, I’d wipe out every last one of them if I could.

I’ve made up my mind. I’m not brave enough to fight demons head-on. But those smug cultists? Them, I can handle. I took an oath to justice, and to this badge. This is war now. Tomorrow will be worse than today. And the day after? Worse still.

But if I stop playing by the rules, there’s still plenty I can do.

Because if cops don’t protect the city, then what’s the point?

Something strange happened today. A noble from Britain arrived—Ophelia Luxor. Sent by the Del Exorcism Church, apparently. A textbook snobby young lady.

But she’s strong. Took out Category 2 Demons like it was nothing. I don’t care how rude she is—I’m glad she’s here.

Shijimachi, the rookie, tried to stop her from entering a restricted area. Nearly got himself decked. I gave him a lecture: don’t block nobles.

Then he asked, “What about her attendant?” A tall man in formal Exorcist gear. Looked like her escort.

I told him the same thing—don’t interfere. Not if you want to keep your bones intact.

***

—April 12th, 2036

I killed a Demon cultist today.

This city just got a little cleaner.

And I feel great.

Kotaro Taki. Forty-six years old.

I couldn’t sit on the sidelines anymore.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Years of fighting Demons and cultists as a cop and all I’ve felt is frustration.

Especially with the Hidden Flame, that damn cult. We knew they were up to no good, but they were too slippery to charge. Demon cultists are worse than Demons in some ways. They skulk. They spread. Like rot. The only way to stop them is to kill them.

I was ready to kill more today. But someone beat me to it.

We’d been watching this shady club—Neon Circle. Then some lunatic Exorcist shows up and slaughters fourteen worshippers in one go. Then punches clean through a Category 2 Demon. Never seen anything like it.

His name? Ikaku Akamuro.

A Coral Terminator. One of the Akai.

When I heard, I felt real hope for the first time in a while. The Akai Clan isn’t gone. Not completely. There’s still a sword of justice left in this city.

He’s only eighteen. Huge kid. Said he’s 190 centimeters tall. Claimed breathing techniques helped him grow. I didn’t really get it.

I wanted to salute him. But I had to haul him in instead. Why? No license on him.

His excuse? “My cat ate it.”

Then he handed me the actual cat. A big, fluffy Norwegian Forest Cat. Tried to bribe me with cuteness.

“Can’t you let it slide for this?” the man said, holding out the cat like a peace offering. The little thing meowed and pawed at me, almost broke me right there.

But I held firm. Barely. Got him into holding.

He was released later that night. Apparently, the British noble came to collect him. 

Figures. A noble and a Coral Terminator teaming up. Whatever they’re doing, I hope it’s targeting the right enemies.

Please.

Protect this city.

***

—April 13th, 2036

I’m completely spent.

Dead tired. Even on my day off.

What’s going to happen to this city?

I can’t even guess anymore.

The Matz-Carlton got hit by a bombing. The damn Matz. The building collapsed and took a neighboring one with it. No idea how many people died. A thousand? Two? I saw the site. It was hell.

I was already running on fumes, and my face must’ve looked so bad they sent me home.

Before I got to the Matz, I saw something that shook me to my core.

I was scouting out a sketchy office, planning a bit of vigilante work, when I got a radio call. Demon Countermeasures Division wanted me in. Typical, getting called on your day off. That’s how I found out about the Matz bombing.

Just as I was turning to head over, another call came in.

“We’ve got a car chase! Mr. Taki, it’s a car chase! Gunfire!”

Shijimachi again. Way too excited. I asked for the location—he said they were heading toward the central ring overpass. I was parked right beneath it.

I looked up, still holding the radio.

And saw a car fall.

Then another.

Then the gunfire.

When a Demon crawled from the wreckage, I understood. This was a fight. An Exorcist versus a Demon.

Only one Exorcist, from what I could tell. So I thought maybe I could help. I had mercury rounds. I’m licensed. I’ve had training. Barely used it, but still.

Maybe I was crazy. I’d already killed a man for justice. Maybe that made me bold. Or just stupid.

I jumped out with my gun.

Five seconds later, I was hiding behind a pillar.

What else could I do? The thing that Exorcist was fighting—it was a monster. A true monster.

I know Demons. I’ve worked in this Division for years. I saw the signs. Massive throat sac. Lizard tail. Easily over two meters tall. A lizardman from hell.

Category 3. No doubt.

And Category 3 means eight points of party strength. You need eight Exorcists just to break even. Four if they’re Ninth-Class. Two if they’re Eighth-Class.

Usually that’s when the nobility steps in. You don’t fight something like that alone.

I hid behind the pillar, shaking. Radioed in, called it what it was. Tried to convince myself I wasn’t a coward. That it couldn’t be helped.

Then the Exorcist jumped down. From the overpass. Abandoned high ground. Landed on the Demon’s level.

I couldn’t understand why.

Only when I saw him up close did I realize—it was him. Ikaku Akamuro.

He was injured. Bloodied. Already been through hell.

But something was strange. A car chase. A Demon in the fleeing car. Who was hunting who?

Then he threw a punch.

Just one.

And the Demon went down.

I remember it clearly. A single punch. The thing twitched once, then went still.

The ground cracked. The traffic island broke apart. It felt like an earthquake. I don’t know much about martial arts, but that stomp power? Unreal. More than a Category 3.

After confirming the Demon was dead, I called out. Ikaku looked relieved. Asked me to handle cleanup. I agreed. Then I asked him—why the fists? You punched at Neon Circle too.

He said, “I can’t use magic. So this is all I can do.” He sounded almost regretful.

I just said, “I see.”

He was in a hurry. Didn’t push it.

I saluted his back as he walked away.

Eighteen years old. The sword of the Akai.

No—fist.

A man who fights monsters face-to-face.

Without magic.

Wounded.

Alone.

Because punching is all he has, he gets close.

And hits harder than anyone else.

His name is Ikaku Akamuro.

And I’ve never met a more insane Exorcist in my life.