In the dim glow of his room, Ryosuke sat at his desk. The soft light from a nearby lamp cast just enough illumination for him to read, leaving the rest of the space steeped in shadows. The silence was broken only by the faint rustle of pages as he turned them, his eyes scanning the dense lines of an old, annotated book.
At last, he exhaled a quiet sigh and closed the book with a deliberate motion. For a moment, he sat in silence, then spoke as if addressing an invisible specter:
"How's my Iron Man doing?"
A soft hum broke the stillness, followed by the faint whir of mechanical components. A sleek, circular metallic gadget emerged from the shadows, gliding smoothly onto the desk until it stopped just in front of Ryosuke.
"I've told you before, Ryosuke, I reject that nickname."
The young man let out a clear, light laugh, folding his arms across the edge of the desk.
"But it suits you, doesn't it?" he teased. "Now, tell me, how's Kyoto?"
"It's tense. The surge in cursed activity is escalating. Everyone's giving it their all to contain the situation, but the pressure's mounting."
Ryosuke nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"As long as everyone's holding up, that's what matters."
He paused, absently fiddling with a pencil on the desk. Then, feigning nonchalance, he asked, "And… Mai? Is she okay?"
"You could ask her yourself, you know."
Ryosuke cleared his throat, his gaze shifting away, a flicker of awkwardness breaking through his cool demeanor.
"I was just curious," he mumbled, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks.
But he quickly sobered, leaning back in his chair and fixing the gadget with a piercing stare.
"If you're reaching out to me, it's not for casual conversation. Do you have an update on the targets?"
The voice shifted, its tone professional, almost cold.
"Nothing concrete on Geto Suguru yet. We're still tracking him, and I can allocate additional resources to—"
"Don't bother," Ryosuke interrupted, raising a hand. "I've already dealt with him. Focus on the other two."
"The remaining targets have been located."
Ryosuke leaned forward, his gaze sharpening.
"Where?"
The gadget projected a holographic map of Tokyo onto the desk. The voice, calm and measured, replied,
"Here."
A slow smile spread across Ryosuke's lips as he studied the map.
"Perfect."
The holographic map flickered out with a soft crackle, plunging the room back into its dim, serene atmosphere. Silence hung in the air for a moment before the voice spoke again.
"About the two individuals... I've managed to gather some intel on them."
Ryosuke leaned on the desk, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, a casual yet focused demeanor settling over him.
"I'm listening. Who are they?"
The gadget briefly displayed a series of holographic data before continuing.
"The first is an art student, Himi Shiori. On the surface, she appears completely ordinary, but..." The voice hesitated.
"I sensed something unusual. A power... terrifying, almost tangible."
Ryosuke nodded, a fleeting glint of amusement lighting up his eyes.
"Good instincts, Mechamaru. And the other?"
"Daikin Isamu. A washed-up second-rate exorcist. Nothing remarkable about him. He hasn't caused any ripples, and his abilities seem... limited."
A faint, enigmatic smile played on Ryosuke's lips as he idly twirled a pencil between his fingers.
"That's where you're wrong."
"Wrong? How so?" The voice sounded intrigued.
Ryosuke set the pencil down and sat up straighter, folding his arms.
"What if I told you that Daikin Isamu is far more dangerous than he seems?"
There was a brief pause before the voice replied with measured skepticism.
"Based on my analysis, Himi Shiori's aura is far more unsettling. But I suppose you disagree."
A sly grin spread across Ryosuke's face, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"That so-called 'washed-up' Daikin Isamu is a far greater threat than his rank or demeanor would ever let on."
"If you say so," the voice conceded, a touch of resignation creeping in. "Either way, both of them are dangerous, even for you, Ryosuke."
Ryosuke let out a soft chuckle.
"What's this? Are you worried about me?" he teased.
The gadget emitted a mechanical hum, almost like an exasperated sigh.
"I'm simply advising caution."
With a mischievous smile, Ryosuke nodded, then stretched, his arms rising high above his head.
"Relax, Mechamaru. I'm more aware of the risks than you think. But..." He leaned back, confidence radiating from him.
"I can't imagine myself losing."
He let out a soft yawn, rolling the tension from his shoulders, and leaned closer to the gadget. His tone softened.
"Anyway... I'm sorry you're still caught up in all of this. You could be living a peaceful life with Kasumi, but you keep helping me. Why?"
The voice responded after a brief pause.
"It's my choice."
Ryosuke stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the shifting shadows across the desk. Finally, he stood.
"In that case, thank you. It's a stroke of luck they're both here right now. "
He stood still, his body vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline surged through his veins at the thought of what lay ahead.
Himi Shiori. Daiki Isamu. Two names. Two targets.
A grin spread across his face as he considered the possibilities, his fingers toying with the edge of the desk.
A millennial genius, huh?
The thought seemed surreal, almost laughable. Daiki Isamu, the unassuming old exorcist, was far more than he appeared. An ancient entity resided within him—a spirit both wise and formidable. Ryosuke understood all too well that if he let his guard down, he'd be nothing more than a pawn to this supernatural force.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
But that instinctive caution, that sense of restraint, was quickly overshadowed by a bolder thought.
Wasn't that what made all of this so thrilling?
The danger, the unpredictability, the chance of encountering an opponent who could surpass anything he'd faced before—this was what Ryosuke lived for. A mischievous spark lit up his eyes, and a sly smile played across his lips.
A millennial genius or not, I already know exactly how this will go.
He took a deep breath, his hand clenching into a tight fist before slowly relaxing again.
I have two deadly weapons, after all.
First, his deep knowledge of the manga—a veritable treasure trove of information about the past, key events, and even his enemies' weaknesses. And second, his own mastery of Jujutsu—a skill so potent, it bordered on divine. These strengths made him more than just a fighter; they made him an anomaly, an unpredictable force.
Running a hand through his hair, he felt the fiery pull of recklessness. But a quiet voice deep inside whispered warnings. He couldn't underestimate Daiki Isamu—especially the entity lurking behind the man.
Ryosuke gave a slight shake of his head, brushing aside those cautious thoughts.
Risks only make things more exciting.
A laugh bubbled up in his throat, but he held it back. Instead, his smile widened, betraying his growing excitement.
Finally, he turned toward the gadget on the desk. In a calm, almost nonchalant tone, he said,
"Mechamaru, What do you say I pay them a visit?"
TO BE CONTINUED!
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