Hardcore Exorcist: Reborn to Grind

—April 4, 2036

I have a dream: to eradicate the Demon worshipers.

My parents were reputable local doctors. I was happy until I turned ten. I was proud of them for having jobs of such social significance, and I vaguely thought I’d like to be like them someday.

I don’t know when it started, but things became strange. My parents grew devoted to their faith in Demons. Their diets and habits changed. They began inviting strange people over for dinner. I was often dragged along to their gatherings.

The people at those gatherings were all ordinary. A kind old man and woman I knew from the neighborhood, a housewife who worked part-time at the supermarket, a salaryman on his way home from work. But deep down, every one of them was mad.

Those were hellish days. But I kept hoping, praying, that my parents would come to their senses.

When I was fourteen, I reported them. The police and Exorcists raided one of the gatherings, which led to a clash that left many dead and injured. That war, which lasted a single night, left me all alone.

A disease took my parents from me. A societal plague. A madness that spreads from person to person. With quiet expressions, the insane constantly push for others to accept their way of thinking.

Everyone has a little morbid curiosity. It might be like drugs. What is this power of Demons, really? If I got my hands on it, would I be freed from the petty troubles of this fleeting world?

I don’t want to go mad like my parents, and I will never acknowledge or forgive the Demons and the Demon worship that drove them to it.

I will cure the disease. My methods are different from those of my doctor parents, but this, too, is a form of treatment. In terms of cutting out the pathogen, its social significance is arguably greater than that of a doctor.

That’s why I became an Exorcist. To destroy Demons.

But the job wasn’t what I thought it would be. They only deal with Demons when they appear. Plenty of them hunt Demons just to make money, some just wanted to try Ichor for the hell of it, and not a few abuse its power.

There are far too many worthless people.

I became convinced that I couldn’t cure the disease by remaining an Exorcist.

That’s why I set my sights on the Anti-Demon Division. A hero who slays monsters can’t eradicate a disease. What the world needs is a doctor who can excise the pathogen.

Today, I finally made it into the Anti-Demon Division.

I will be the one to cut out the disease. I will end this nightmare.

I’m going to clean up this city.

* * *

—April 5, 2036

I spent all night poring over the investigation files on the “Hidden Flame” stored at the Akai City Police department. Apparently, they’re a major target the Anti-Demon Division has been tracking for years.

The division has already investigated a great deal, but they haven’t been able to make a move. The official reason is that the cult won’t show its tail.

Pathetic. A gutless organization like this will never be able to excise the pathogen.

If you know they’re evil, then just use force.

There’s no other way to save those afflicted by the disease.

* * *

—April 6, 2036

I killed a Demon worshiper.

He was a more powerful Demon Contractor than I expected. I shot him with a 9mm mercury bullet, but the bastard used his arm as a shield and charged me. I couldn’t stop him, and he started to strangle me. I had no choice but to use my Code.

Its destructive power exceeded my expectations. The worshiper was burned to a crisp. This method of killing leaves too distinct a signature, so I had to dispose of the body carefully to avoid leaving any traces.

Well, it wasn’t all bad. I got to test the power of my Code. It’s a Soulgear from the Akai clan, all right. It was worth paying a fortune to have it installed at the hospital. 

It has a Stroke Count of three. In other words, it’s the “commoner’s model” that loses its efficacy after three uses. Even for this, the procedure cost twelve million yen, tax included.

I’m not hurting for money thanks to the inheritance my doctor parents left me, but even so, the cost is steep enough to make anyone hesitate.

In my three-year career as an Exorcist, I never brought myself to use it; the cost just didn't seem worth the benefit. But you get what you pay for. The quality is undeniable.

Two strokes left. I have to use them wisely.

Takuma Shijimachi will be the one to destroy this unending disease.

* * *

—April 8, 2036

We had shooting drills today.

The Akai clan Exorcists praised my marksmanship. When I showed them my Ninth-Class license, they gave me a look that was part surprise, part understanding. They asked why I was a cop.

They made sure to remember my name before they left. These are Exorcists with high aspirations—different from the trash in the private sector. They hold noble ideals. It felt good to be acknowledged by people like that.

* * *

—April 9, 2036

Something terrible happened.

The Akai estate burned down. The Blood Moon appeared. The entire Akai City Police force was mobilized to seal off the mountain. There have been numerous Demon sightings. They even spotted a massive shadow flying through the sky. It has to be a high-ranking Demon.

I smelled the disease. The stench of a terrible sickness. I felt some conspiratorial evil was at work. I had to act now. The impulse surged in my chest.

Fortunately, Kotaro Taki, who’s been annoyingly fussy with me, was too caught up in the chaos to pay me any mind. I slipped away and took a game trail up the mountain toward the estate.

In the woods, I witnessed a strange group moving away from the mansion.

They were cloaked in mantles. They disappeared into the shadows of the trees so quickly that I couldn’t get a precise count, but I think there were twelve or thirteen of them. They were carrying about six young women in dresses.

I held my breath. It was a terrifying moment.

Peeking out cautiously, I saw them huddle together in a tight group. On the surrounding tree trunks, strings of text and gnostic symbols glowed faintly. Then, a bolt of lightning struck. In the next instant, the group had vanished without a trace.

I knew instinctively that some form of magic beyond my comprehension had been used. Incredibly advanced magic. I quietly left the area.

When I returned to my post, Taki yelled at me not to wander off. Luckily, he didn't say anything about me going into the mountains. He probably didn't notice.

What did I see? For now, I can only guess. But I have a feeling it’s an important clue that will lead to the truth of this incident.

The next morning, I wrote down what I remembered about the group while the memory was still fresh.

Once things calm down, I plan to go back and investigate. There must be traces of magic left behind.

* * *

—April 11, 2036

According to Taki, the number of Demon appearances is on the rise. I can’t really sense it myself, but looking at the reports, the numbers are certainly increasing. The disease is spreading.

I saw something unusual today. While we were cordoning off a warehouse belonging to a foreign corporation, some overseas aristocrats showed up.

I’d never seen such a beautiful young lady. When I tried to check her license according to procedure, Taki got mad at me.

Apparently, the privileged classes don’t need their licenses checked. He also said I didn’t need to check the big guy accompanying her, either. Give me a break.

I think Taki just wants to pull rank and act like a veteran by being strict with me. He acts experienced, but he’s a coward. He’s not a bad person, but a man like that can never stamp out the pathogen.

I might be able to learn from him, but he is not a man worthy of respect.

* * *

—April 12, 2036

There was a shootout at the nightclub I’d been targeting.

Seventeen dead. Two victims. One Demon. Fourteen Demon cultists.

Among the worshipers were six Demon Contractors, two mana-users, and six with no powers.

The one who did it was an Exorcist named Ikaku Akamuro. An Akai clan Exorcist, apparently.

I was relieved to know some of them had survived. If the Exorcists who hold such noble ideals were wiped out, I would have had to fight a terribly lonely battle.

Still, it’s astounding. To achieve such a result all by himself… “skilled” doesn’t even begin to cover it. And the Demon he defeated was a Mutation-Type—a Category 2. That alone is an incredible feat for a single person of ordinary means to accomplish.

A name I’ve never heard before: Ikaku Akamuro. But from today, for a while at least, the Anti-Demon Division will be speaking his name as a hero.

I, too, will pay him my respects.

* * *

—April 13, 2036

A truly exhausting day.

The spread of the disease is getting serious. The city is starting to rot.

The madmen are losing what little restraint they have with each passing day.

It was a long one. The bath I took after getting home felt like it soaked into my very soul.

My partner, Miyako Sagiri, and I were on patrol in our car when we got the news that The Matz-Carlton had collapsed. The Matz. It was the moment a historic act of terrorism occurred.

We immediately tried to head to the scene.

That’s when it happened. A speeding car blew past us. The car chasing it was firing gunshots, of all things.

It was the first time I’d ever seen it in person. A real car chase. We couldn’t just ignore it. Sagiri and I tried to pursue, but we couldn’t keep up in the rush hour traffic and lost them almost immediately.

I knew from the radio chatter that off-duty officers were being mobilized by precinct command, so I called Taki, who was off-duty.

A little while later, Taki radioed back. The car chase was over, he said. It had been taken care of. I went to the scene, got the explanation, and, well, I suppose I was satisfied.

It was that man. Ikaku Akamuro. He had killed a Category 3 Demon and then left. 

Seriously? You can’t just let him go, I thought. But arguing with my senior Taki would have been a hassle, so I said nothing.

After helping to secure the scene for a bit, reinforcements arrived, so Sagiri and I were told to head to the Matz, where more personnel were needed. We turned the car around.

That’s when a new call came in. A fire at the Sakura District Meat Processing Center. Reports of a gunfight. We happened to be nearby, so I took the call and we rushed to the scene.

When we got there, I was stunned. A total of eight cars were engulfed in flames, and bodies were scattered everywhere. It looked like the aftermath of a war.

And there he was. That man. Ikaku Akamuro. He seemed to be badly injured, his clothes soaked in blood. He was filthy, too, and covered in what looked like dust and grime.

My mind was reeling.

This man had just defeated a Category 3 Demon at the Ring Overpass a few hours ago.

As a solo kill for a person of ordinary means, it was beyond extraordinary. You could call it legendary. It was that kind of battle.

He was wounded, and I figured that was why. That much made sense. But… why was he here?

Sagiri and I had just been with Taki, so we were both bewildered. Ikaku Akamuro was extremely calm, cooperating with our questions in a detached, matter-of-fact tone.

And then we heard the battle report, a tally that defied imagination.

Eighty-seven dead. Eighteen victims. Thirty-two Demons. Thirty-seven Demon cultists.

Among the cultists, twenty-three were Demon Contractors, five were mana-users, and nine had no powers.

Ikaku Akamuro is an Exorcist. The fact that he fought meant there must have been Demon cultists at the Sakura District Meat Processing Center. I could guess that much.

But I never imagined he had killed a total of sixty-nine Demons and cultists all by himself. What kind of scale was this? How did he do it? This was far beyond the numbers a single ordinary person could handle.

I think Sagiri and I were both terrified. Our voices were trembling… because Ikaku Akamuro showed no sign of being shaken.

He was too calm in the face of the eight burning cars and the mountain of corpses behind him. I felt that his mental structure—his very psyche—must be different from that of a normal person.

And then came something even more shocking.

In his report, in the same flat tone as everything else, he mentioned that he had also killed “two individuals who appeared to be leaders, Suzuri Tomoshigawa and Kuro Kemurishima.”

I couldn’t help but ask for clarification.

“Wh-What?! You mean… the serial killer, Kuro the Manslayer?! And he was part of the Hidden Flame?!”

Since transferring to the Anti-Demon Division, I had naturally reviewed the files on dangerous Demons and Demon cultists with bounties on their heads.

Kuro the Manslayer. Real name: Kuro Kemurishima. That he wielded a sword, was a Demon Contractor, and was terrifyingly strong—beyond that, the man was an enigma. He had slain over thirty people in the past fourteen years, most of them skilled individuals like Exorcists. A modern-day tsujigiri.

The Del Exorcism Church had placed a massive bounty of thirty million yen on his head. His Power Level was rated at “16,” which meant he was comparable to a Category 4 Demon. He was a Demon Contractor who possessed that much terrifying power.

I couldn’t quite believe it, so I asked where the body was. He pointed casually and said, “Over there.” And there he was, Kuro Kemurishima, lying on the ground.

His chest was caved in. I remembered what Taki had said. “Ikaku can’t use mana. So he just… hits things, apparently.”

I hadn’t understood what he meant, but it suddenly clicked.

So I found myself asking, “Did you… punch him to death?”

He affirmed it easily. “Yes, more or less.”

I replied, “I see.”

It wasn’t a situation where “I see” made any sense at all. But I didn’t have the courage to press him any further.

We only held him for about ten minutes. Just before reinforcements arrived, we let him go in his battered SUV. He seemed to be in a great hurry.

I don’t know why, but I had a feeling he had something he had to do. The only thing I could do was not get in his way.

It was just as Taki, to an annoying degree, had said. He is a proud warrior.

In the dark, cold night, he never hesitates, knows no retreat, overcomes fear, endures pain, and advances brilliantly upon his enemies. If he knows where evil lurks, he will not stand idly by for even a moment before crushing it.

Watching him taught me something.

I don’t think a person’s true strength comes from weapons, or techniques, or even mana. I think it comes from things like mental fortitude and resolve.

An unshakeable Will of Steel must surely transcend everything else.

His name is Ikaku Akamuro. He’s on a different level from those other wannabes.

You can tell with just one look. He’s realer than anyone.