Ninja Organization

Within half a day.

Eleven sword-school dojos across Tokyo, Japan, had been wiped out. Every dojo had been forcibly breached by the same person, who brutally killed everyone inside, including the masters and all swordsmanship disciples, before setting fire to the places that served as the foundations of their schools.

At every site, he left behind a Demon Card, as if using it to announce the intruder’s identity.

‘Demon’ Kyle!

Like the incarnation of a demon, he crushed and flattened the representative schools that formed the foundation of Bushido, wantonly trampling upon the spiritual pillar of the samurai.

Tokyo’s citizens were shocked once again. While they trembled at Kyle, the invader, they realized for the first time that the samurai they had always considered exceptional fighters were actually so fragile.

Nearly a hundred thousand armed soldiers had been dispatched in an all-out manhunt. But Tokyo was simply too large, large enough to be divided into four or five major cities. Dozens of famous sword-school dojos were scattered throughout different districts, making it impossible to station troops to defend all of them.

Japanese strategic analysts had tried to deduce Kyle’s movements and targets, arranging for troops to lie in wait near those dojos beforehand. Yet the very next moment, a dojo ten kilometers away would be destroyed instead. By the time the troops hurried to the scene, nothing remained but a bleak expanse of blackened charcoal and scorched earth.

What they did not know was that Blue Eagle was scouting from more than a thousand meters in the sky. It was difficult for Kyle to be surrounded by a large army even if he wanted to be.

People were not machines. While in combat mode, Kyle consumed far more stamina than an ordinary person. Yet with the Super Soldier physique and Healing Factor, his physical condition could quickly recover.

But once he was caught within a large, armed force that had prepared in advance, he could not possibly wipe out the enemy army alone, no matter how powerful he was. He would be dragged into a prolonged stalemate that rapidly drained his stamina, leaving him no time to relax or rest.

Furthermore, continuous concentrated artillery barrages could exceed the limits of Venom’s protection and his mutated body’s endurance. If the Healing Factor could not keep up with the new injuries, death remained a possibility.

Kyle had a clear understanding of his own strength, so he would not put himself in such a life-threatening situation.

During his game of cat and mouse with the large army in Tokyo, he destroyed another five undefended sword-school dojos in succession, bringing the total to sixteen schools!

Japan had not lost so many martial traditions at once since the Edo period a century ago. It was easy to imagine how devastating this was for a people proud of their samurai.

Commander Sasaki, stationed at headquarters, grew anxious. He sent communications officers to the remaining sword-school dojos, urging them to abandon their main dojos for the moment and evacuate to safe areas.

Yes. Evacuate. In the nation’s eyes, Kyle posed a threat on the same level as a natural disaster.

Yet the sword-school dojos representing Bushido all unanimously rejected Commander Sasaki’s advice—for them, dying while facing a powerful enemy’s challenge was not frightening. What was frightening was losing courage before the battle even began!

If they abandoned their main dojos out of fear, would that not mean abandoning and severing the Bushido spirit in their hearts?!

"As long as the sword remains, we remain. As long as we remain, the dojo remains."

That was the unanimous reply from the members of the remaining dojos, a statement they considered full of backbone.

When Commander Sasaki learned of this at military headquarters, he nearly burst into curses. For the first time, he sighed inwardly: Bushido harms people! It was too stubborn and foolish! It did not know how to adapt!

If the enemy had been someone else, and there had been a chance to defeat him, that would have been one thing. But that was Kyle! In less than two days, the name Demon had cast a suffocating shadow over all of Tokyo, Japan.

"Do we really have to wait until Tokyo’s sword-school dojos are reduced to their last few before we can concentrate the army and arrange a proper defense?" Commander Sasaki had a splitting headache. Just as he was racking his brain for a solution, a communications soldier rushed in excitedly.

The communications soldier saluted and said, "Reporting, sir! We have just received the latest news: the Ninja Organization protecting the Emperor has left the Imperial Residence and begun acting in secret. They are requesting our cooperation!"

"Ninjas?" Commander Sasaki froze for a moment, then broke into a smile and laughed heartily. "It seems the Emperor has finally lost patience. He has even sent out the ninjas who have long protected only the Imperial Residence."

Ninjas were the elite of the elite, samurai among samurai! Every member possessed strength beyond that of ordinary people. Unfortunately, this organization’s power had been passed down through the generations and answered only to the Emperor. It was not an armed force under military jurisdiction.

Commander Sasaki said coldly, "Cooperate? Of course we will cooperate! For this operation, deploy all our military firepower. Ignore public property and civilian casualties. No matter the cost, we must kill that man in one battle!"

Tokyo, Japan, Kanagawa District.

This area lay on the outskirts of Tokyo. Its streets and buildings were far less prosperous than those in the city center, and with the incident of the American demon’s invasion, there were only a pitiful few pedestrians on the roads.

However, it was home to a sword-school dojo ranked comfortably among the top ten: Hojo Itto-ryu, rumored to enshrine the demon blade, "Murasame."

When Kyle arrived at the entrance to the dojo, he was surprised to find that there were no guards posted outside, and the main doors stood wide open.

Had everyone inside evacuated?

Kyle did not care. Whether the people of the dojo stayed behind to defend it or retreated and fled made little difference to him.

Destroying the dojo and erasing the foundation of those who called themselves Bushido practitioners was his true objective.

Expressionless, Kyle returned to the appearance of his Night Suit and strode coldly into the main dojo.

Only when he entered the courtyard did he discover that the dojo’s people had not evacuated. Instead, they were seated in neat rows inside the main hall. A middle-aged man in a black kimono sat at the front, with roughly fifty swordsmanship disciples in black seated behind him. All of them had their eyes closed as they waited toward the entrance.

"You finally came. We have been waiting for you for a long time." The middle-aged man opened his eyes and looked at Kyle, who stood tall in the doorway of the main hall.

"Demon Kyle, here to issue a challenge." Kyle smiled and delivered his usual opening line.

"I am Hojo Maru, the twenty-first master of Hojo Itto-ryu." The middle-aged man picked up the sheathed Japanese sword at his side and slowly rose to his feet. He said firmly, "On behalf of Hojo Itto-ryu, I accept your challenge!"

As soon as the words fell, the fifty swordsmanship disciples behind him rose as well. They gripped the blades they had prepared long ago and readied themselves for battle.

Hojo Maru said neither humbly nor arrogantly, "I know that I stand no chance against you alone, so all of us will attack together."

"That is how it should be." Kyle nodded in satisfaction. His gaze fell on the Japanese sword in the man’s hand as he said with some interest, "Is that the legendary demon blade, Murasame?"

"Indeed. Murasame should never have been unsheathed, but this is a moment of life and death for Hojo Itto-ryu. We can only violate our ancestors’ wishes and use it." As Hojo Maru spoke, his left hand gripped the scabbard while his right held the finely engraved hilt, slowly drawing out the long, slender blade of Murasame inch by inch.

Kyle examined the so-called demon blade.

The hilt bore master-level artistic engravings, while the blade was bright as snow and gleamed with cold light. Its appearance was certainly impressive. Given the level of ancient Japanese craftsmanship, it had nearly caught up to the Sodium-Carbon Steel One-Handed Sword Howard had forged with advanced technology.

But in truth, it did not seem noticeably different from any other Japanese sword…