There Was No Secret Evil-Fighting Organization (srsly?!), So I Made One MYSELF!
Chapter 11: Final Battle on the Peak of Shichijou-jima
Volume 3: Tsukiyomi, the Dark Secret Organization
In the past six months, I’d been doing my best setting up a dark secret organization with the following goals in mind: preparing a battle rival for Amaterasu, saving the romanticists in the underground, and restoring public order in Tokyo.
Oyabun, Miyama, and Chris’s respective superpowers had all developed their own secondary abilities, such that they were now powerful enough to put up a good supernatural fight against Amaterasu.
After all their sufferings, the Strangers of Tsukimori-gumi were now firmly united under Tsukuyomi’s leadership, fully living out all the dreams and expectations that had spurred them to smuggle themselves into the country or overstay their visas in the first place.
With the police hot on their back, Tanioka-gumi was a candle on its last bit of wick, slated to disappear all by itself. Due to pressure from an unknown source, certain amendments to the laws regarding forced deportation were being pushed through at incredible speed, which should help greatly to arrest the decline of public order in Tokyo. Recovery was on the horizon.
In short, I had pretty much completed all of my goals. All that was left was to thoroughly crush Tanioka-gumi’s morale and to the point where they have no choice but to concede to becoming Tsukuyomi’s puppet.
There would be no meaning in destroying Tanioka-gumi, the representative gathering of lowlifes in this City of Chaos. A new yakuza organization would simply stand up and start throwing their weight around in the same way.
In elementary school, there were those who would hit, make fun of, or laugh at others.
In middle school, there were those who would mock the diligent students, slack off, or take the easy way out, thoroughly convinced that they were the ‘cool’ ones.
In high school, there were those who would play truant, skip classes, fail all their subjects, or take advantage of the teachers’ goodwill alone to graduate.
The proportion of these kinds of people in school would then go on to make up the same proportion in society at large. There would always be those who only know how to throw their weight around and hit, laugh at, and threaten others.
Therefore, the way to handle such lowlifes and trash was not to erase them, but to break their spirits and incorporate them into a slightly better organization of lowlifes and trash. With Tsukuyomi — a relatively “milder” evil — in charge, the rise of a “worse” evil could be prevented. In short, it was the concept of fighting fire with fire.
In order to do this, Tsukuyomi needed to take over not only Tanioka-gumi, but also the smaller scale yakuza organizations, religious cults, foreign covert operatives, scam rings, and other such forces that were contributing to the bad public order in Tokyo.
Specifically, what Baba and I were planning was to first get in touch with the various underground influences in Tokyo through different agents and spread the word about the formation of a so-called “Underground Union.” With pressure from the police growing stronger and the general populace’s awareness against danger rising due to the terrorist incident still fresh in everybody’s minds, there was a certain persuasiveness to the idea of working together to survive.
Next, we would direct them to gather in a remote place under the pretext of signing the formation of the Union, where they would suddenly encounter Tsukuyomi and get beaten up (the musclehead way of doing things).
After that, those who needed to be handed over to the police would be handed over, those with a home country would be chased back to said country, those who had family would be compelled to return to their families, and all the rest would be absorbed into the “mildly dark group” under Tsukuyomi’s control. I would then take advantage of the confusion of everything going on to pretend to have recovered my memory and return to Amaterasu. My Tsukuyomi tattoo would remain, but that was fine with me. I had no intention of having Ig erase it for me.
Things might not go entirely smoothly and there was a mountain of things that needed resolving, but, well, forcing things to go smoothly and resolving those problems was our job.
And so came time for us to get started with all the preparations. The two of us split the list up among ourselves.
Baba was going to handle pulling Tanioka-gumi into the Union, presumably through her connections with a certain lolicon yakuza.
The religious cults were also hers to take care of, as her fantastical appearance supposedly gave her a lot of say amongst them. Ranging from burrowing into the core of their organizations by pretending to be an innocent girl to overwhelming them with the contrast between her appearance and her wealth of wisdom, she had a ton of different ways she could wrap them around her finger.
The foreign covert operatives were mine. After purchasing the relevant information from Lee and setting my sights on a target, I would then find out all their personal information by telekinetically stalking them and then blackmail them into agreeing to join the Union.
The scam groups, small scale yakuza organizations, and other random forces were also left up to me. These, too, I simply just investigated with telekinesis and blackmailed. I did not possess the charm nor wiles to ensnare people like Baba and Kaburagi-san could. Therefore, I pretty much always ended up brute forcing my way with telekinesis. Well, where I can use brute force, I might as well use brute force.
After the biggest players in Tokyo’s underworld agree to join the Union, then the other riff raff would naturally get swept along and end up following suit on their own accord.
The singular thought of not making Kaburagi-san wait any longer empowered me to power through and finish all the preparations within a single month.
November 11th, late at night.
Everything was to be brought to a close upon Shichijou-jima, an uninhabited island located within Tokyo Bay.
◇ ◇ ◇
As a lasting effect of the Super Water Sphere Incident, tourist boats could be found in the coastal waters near Tokyo, even at night. Over a span of several days, the roughly three thousand people who were to be involved in the founding of the Underground Union surreptitiously made their way to Shichijou-jima by blending their boats among the tourist ones.
Us Tsukuyomi had “heard word” of this gathering, and therefore were also on our way to Shichijou-jima to crush them all. The boat we were on was helmed by none other than Kobayashi Haruki-kun’s father, who had apparently wanted to make a “man of the sea” out of his son. After a heart to heart talk, however, the two had reconciled over a certain arrangement: Kobayashi-kun was to ride on his father’s ship everyday until he graduated high school; at which time, if he still could not bring himself to love the sea, then his father would no longer say anything about the life course that he chooses. For having created the opportunity for him to mend his relationship with his son, the man was extremely thankful to Oyabun and asked how he could repay the favor. That was where I stepped in to bring up the matter of this trip.
After plowing through the waves for five hours in the dead of night, Shichijou-jima finally came into view. This was where us Tsukuyomi shifted onto a rubber raft and asked Kobayashi-kun’s father to turn back.
There on the rubber raft was Oyabun with a trash bag on his head and a tombstone on his shoulder, Chris in a ninja outfit and her half-broken sword on her waist, Miyama wearing a traffic cone and clutching his guitar, and me in a t-shirt and jeans and my Bali souvenir mask.
Baba had stayed behind. She wasn’t of much help in fights anyways, and her time in the spotlight would be after we finished off Tanioka-gumi, when there would be need of someone with her brilliance to control the fallout and wrap up all the loose ends. As such, now was her time to rest up in advance. As an aside, she had apparently gotten really hooked onto dark hero works recently, and thus was planning on staying behind in Tsukimori-gumi even after this entire incident was over.
As soon as the fishing boat was far enough out of sight, Oyabun picked Chris up and began making his way to Shichijou-jima by running over the water. Miyama and I followed behind on the rubber raft with my telekinesis pushing us along.
The fight tonight was supposed to settle things with Tanioka-gumi for once and for all, but none of us were particularly more enthusiastic or resolved than usual. It felt more like business as usual, to be honest. Tanioka-gumi’s defeat was already set in stone, and we were simply going there to deliver the final blow. It wasn’t our first rodeo, so there wasn’t any specific need to get all excited. That said, we naturally had no intention of letting our guard down.
Shichiijou-jima was a roughly circular island with a 1km diameter and a small mountain in the middle. Most of its surface was covered by trees, but here and there were vestiges of the people who had lived here near the end of the Showa era. However, these structures — among which was a pier — were mainly just ruins by now and almost entirely covered in green moss. It had been quite a while since the island had been visited by anything other than the sea and the wind.
Tonight, however, the island was once again filled with human presence. Our landing prompted several faces to pop out from the shadows of various crumbling buildings. When someone shone a smartphone flashlight at us and revealed our identity, however, a huge commotion went up.
‘Sup, bitches, Tsukuyomi’s in the house. Forget delivery health1, we’re delivery violence, brought right to your doorstep. There’s no running anymore. Looks like gathering on an uninhabited island with the intention of avoiding the public eye has splendidly backfired in your faces, eh? Though I was the one who convinced you guys to choose this place, but still.
As the four of us waited, casually playing shiritori2 to pass the time, the Union members eventually came out from behind the trees in a sizable crowd. I surreptitiously knocked out the ones who were trying to get onto a boat to slip away.
Empty bravado afforded by the guns and knives in their hands spurred them to form a perimeter around us, but terror spurred them to make it a big perimeter, staying far back. Eventually, a man rather into his years wearing a kimono3 walked out from the mob. His hair had gone completely white, but the intensity in his eyes was sharp, he had a well-toned body, and his footing was sure. The aura of dignity that he was emitting filled the air with every step he took. It was my first time meeting this specific man face to face.
“I am the Dai-oyabun4 of Tanioka-gumi, Tanioka Kouji. Thank you for coming all the way out here for us tonight. We welcome you.”
Tanioka was looking straight into Oyabun’s eyes, not a shred of trepidation in his face. Oyabun lowered his tombstone to the ground and jerked his chin to prompt the other man to continue.
“Our young’uns hate you guys with a passion, but I disagree with them. In fact, I think extremely highly of you guys. Our dreams of dominating the entire country are mostly in tatters now, but you guys… you have the caliber to pull it off.”
The surrounding crowd started buzzing at Dai-oyabun’s words, but he silenced them with a single glare.
“What goes through your mind as you look at this great gathering? Each and every one of them bears a name that rings with authority in our world. They are the best of the best from Tokyo — nay, from all of Japan. As a man, do you not feel the desire to stand above them all? What do you get from taking petty revenge for Tsukimori-gumi here? You need to have bigger ambitions. Let the past be the past and join hands with me. I do not mind appointing Tsukuyomi as the supreme commanders. With your superpowers and the foundations we’ve built, neither the police nor the government can stand in our way. With chivalry in our hearts, we can reform this country and forge a legend that will go down in the annals of history—”
Our Oyabun cut into Dai-oyabun’s oration with an annoyed look on his face.
“Is that speech going to take much longer? Do you have to deliver all of it here and now? Can’t you continue it inside jail?”
“Like hell we can all hold hands and get buddy-buddy after coming this far, asshole. Your whole speech isn’t even the least bit funny and we’re bored as fuck listening to it. Plus, it’s cold as hell here. Let’s just get this over and done with.”
“Aw, you guys, I kinda wanted to hear what stupidity he would continue preaching. All right then, do your thing, Ninja.”
With nothing left to do after tuning his guitar, Miyama also expressed agreement with Oyabun, and so I had no choice but to play along. To Miyama’s credit, we were indeed being buffeted by nighttime November sea winds. I could hardly fault him for not being interested in listening to an old man ramble on. What are you, a school principal? You might think you’re saying something meaningful, but the moment you lost your audience’s interest is the moment your speech has fallen flat.
“Oh, we’re starting? ‘K, here we go then~”
In response to my prompt, Chris took out several pinwheel fireworks5 from her chest and scattered them all over. The dry, gunshot-like pops casually signaled the start of the final battle.
The first thing that Oyabun did was take a step forward so heavily that his foot caved the ground, and then shoot forward at such an incredible speed that he was already right before Dai-oyabun’s eyes within the blink of an eye. Then he grabbed one of the old man’s legs and carelessly threw him in a beautiful parabola headed straight for the sea. Miyama began playing his BGM as the loud splash reached our ears.
The song choice tonight seemed, rather unusually for Miyama, to be a rather classy classical piece. The surprisingly delicate melody emanated a somewhat mirthful and peculiar mood — wait a FUCKING moment!
THIS song again?!?!
“The HELL you think you’re doing, you baldie! Nobody here wants to lick your ass, all right?!”
“Oh-ho, you dissing Mozart-senpai now, are you?”
“That’s no-, y-, ARGH!”
LOOK! Oyabun and Chris are both laughing their asses off while beating down yakuza left and right! This is so NOT the atmosphere for a final fight!
Are we Tsukuyomi going to be like this, even at a time like this?! I do love us being this way, though!!
Thankfully, Miyama was satisfied with screwing around only at the start. Soon enough, he changed to a rock number, dropping the yakuza desperately rushing at him one by one with blaring guitar riffs. Each time he unleashed a sound explosion, several dozen people fainted straight away and several dozen others became reduced to staggering about while clamping their hands over their ears. Although Miyama himself had low mobility — being a shit ass and a fatty — his ability to spam attacks made him extremely suitable for crowd control. Yakuza fell like flies in time with the beat.6
Even so, the enemy was not a complete pushover. Guitar Fatty was famous in the underground. Consequently, there were those who had brought ear plugs or soundproof helmets7 along.
It was these smart-alecks that Chris targeted as she swiftly slipped throughout the battlefield like a cat, stuffing their mouths with wharf roaches picked up from the ground, kicking their helmets off, and setting them on fire with her fire breathing skills. Knives and guns proved equally uselessly against her, as she would dodge them all with such perfection that it was as if she had eyes in the back of her head. Now that she had unlocked precognition through her adaptability training, landing a hit on her was next to impossible.
The tactile feel of Chris’s readinglucosamin was so similar to Kaburagi-san’s stoprotein that I mentally berated myself when the realization finally struck me: Chris was not reading memories, but the past. In other words, her superpower was a time-type ability.
If she could read the past, then she should be able to read the future as well. However, despite being able to read a maximum of 60 days into the former, it turned out that she could only read a maximum of 9 seconds into the latter. In addition, just a single use would tire her out so much that she wouldn’t be able to do anything right after. WIth Miyama’s music playing in the background, however, Chris was basically constantly seeing 9 seconds into the future with none of the fatigue. Thanks to this, she was easily dodging all the bullets, jumping those who were planning on catching her by surprise, and using her kunai to knock down the knives thrown her way. Not a single attack from the yakuza even came close to landing on her.
Despite being able to read the future, Chris was by no means invincible, as one simply had to throw an attack at her that she wouldn’t be able to escape within 9 seconds. However, these yakuza wouldn’t think to do that without knowing how she was evading everything. Even in the off chance the thought crossed someone’s mind, it just wasn’t possible to prepare that kind of attack on the spot. The average person would be hard pressed finding a nuclear bomb to drop on her head or acquiring telekinetic powers that could freeze her in place.
The enemies that neither Miyama nor Chris could do anything about then fell to Oyabun to take care of.
As he continued chucking more and more Union members into the sea, heavy tanks abruptly emerged from the forest, their engines howling ferociously. Even Oyabun froze in surprise for a moment.
It was through the foreign covert operatives that I had managed to procure not just one, but two second-hand tanks of a now obsolete model. This was the final battle, after all, and so I wanted to go all out. Of the one month of prep time, I had spent two whole weeks on getting my hands on these. They were meant to be the Union’s aces against this monster of a man who could casually survive a skydive without a parachute.
The morale of the Union picked up a bit from the appearance of these weapons that were so symbolic of power. When Oyabun tried smashing them with his tombstone and his tombstone shattered into pieces instead, their morale picked up even more. No matter how powerful he was, destroying a tank with a tombstone was simply impossible.
“Tombstone Man! Frontal assault wouldn’t work! You have to wrest open the hatch and—”
While maintaining the telekinetic barrier on Guitar Fatty and keeping one eye on him, I shouted the solution that I’d imagined at Oyabun. However, he apparently had his own ideas about how to take care of this.
He grabbed both tanks by their barrels, lifted them up, then started swinging them around as his new tombstones.
You gotta be fucking kidding me!
“Looks like it ain’t so hard learning how to use these tanks! HA HA HA!”
With the tank in his right hand, he smashed a home run with the armored truck that had also appeared, then he used the tank in his left hand to crush the right one’s main barrel before stabbing it into the ground, barrel first. There stood a new tombstone, with its caterpillar tracks still turning furiously, albeit to no avail. This tank was not going anywhere anymore. Ever.
MY TWO WEEKS AND 35 MILLION YEN GOT FLATTENED IN TEN SECONDS FLAT!
But it was hilarious so all is forgiven!
Forget dual wielding katanas; I could now claim to have witnessed someone dual wielding tanks. Oyabun looked like he was having a hell of a time, so that was all that mattered.
I repeat this once again, but this was a fight whose outcome had been decided from the very beginning.
The lethal poison gas that the Union had prepared as their second ace had already been switched out with normal tear gas by yours truly, and the dynamite that they were throwing were mere fireworks. I was not going to let anyone go overboard or get overly hurt. For those who needed it, I provided emergency aid with telekinesis.
The fight was over in roughly thirty minutes, after which we spent several hours chasing down those who had run away and tying up those who had surrendered.
And that was that.
We stuffed the losers into the boats that they had come in and sent them back to the mainland. Next morning, the police were probably going to see a whole ton of criminals that they’d been chasing showing up to turn themselves in. Leaving Chris and Miyama to accompany and guard the boats, Oyabun and I stayed behind on Shichijou-jima for a final check, as it would be terrible if we ended up leaving someone stranded on the island. Once we were done, I planned on falling into the ocean and pretending that the shock had brought me back my memories.
As we picked our way through the dark forest by the light of our flashlights, Oyabun, who had been in front, suddenly stopped.
“Yaku, we need to have a talk.”
“What Tanioka-gumi’s Dai-oyabun was talking about… that actually wasn’t all that bad an idea.”
Oyabun turned around. He took out a sturdy-looking case from a chest pocket and opened it, revealing two syringes inside.
What is this? I have a very bad feeling about this.
“With their organization under me, let alone Tokyo, I could control the entire country. Then soon enough, the entire world. Everything underground could be under my thumb, and I could bring order to the chaos and ensure that they all abide by Tsukuyomi’s precepts. Doesn’t sound all that bad, does it?”
“What? No, no, no, that would be excessive self-defense well ok I guess we’re already long passed the point of excessive self-defense but there’s a limit to things or more like we can’t just decide something like that by ourse — Right! We wouldn’t have enough manpower to keep everything running!”
“Manpower? We have plenty of that, don’t we? You think I haven’t noticed that you were hiding your full strength? I am willing to bet anything that you haven’t lost your memories. Once Sago gets serious, nothing is impossible.”
Oyabun’s sure tone left me speechless.
Without hesitation, he plunged both syringes into his own arm.
“It was all you, wasn’t it? Breaking the door lock, picking up on the yakuza who was getting away without even looking, protecting all our members during the time I was bedridden. It looks like you went to some lengths trying to hide it all, but once I tried seeing things this way, all the pieces fell into place. Someone who had truly lost their memories would be much more desperate and conflicted. You were far too composed.”
“Ugh…but…no…shit, wait a sec. All right, I admit that I was lying. But I swear I wasn’t doing it to undermine you or the gro—”
“Spare me your words. It’s simple: fight me, right here, right now. If you beat me, then I’ll forgive you for everything, and you can do as you like. If I beat you, then you become mine and help me take over the world.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Oyabun had just injected himself with. His entire body became enveloped in a white light, while at the same time, an invisible power that I was all too familiar with exploded out from him. His skin repeatedly broke apart, spurting blood all over, as if there were explosions continuously going off inside his body. Immediately afterwards, the wounds would close right back up. Explode and heal. Explode and heal.
Just by standing there, he was covered all over with wounds.
Just by standing there, he was power personified.
“Become my underling for real, Kinemitsu Sago! Come at me with all you got!”
Having gained equal footing to me through the bloods of healing and telekinesis, Oyabun roared while throwing a punch that looked like it could wipe out the very stars in the sky.
If you’re enjoying the series, please consider buying Volumes 1 and 2 in Japanese and English to support Kurodome-sensei and me!
All details in the Table of Contents page.
1 “Delivery health” is what Japan calls their, well, call girls. Prostitution is technically illegal in Japan, but as they say: where there is a will, there is a way. Here’s the Wikipedia article for more details.
2 Shiritori is a word game where players need to think of a word starting with the letter that the previous word ended with. For example, if the previous person said “tsundere,” then the next person might say “Remu” to keep it going. Anyone who says a word ending in “n” loses, as there are supposedly no words in Japanese that start with “n”.
4 “Dai-oyabun” is basically like a bigger position than simple “Oyabun”. This title is frequently given to, say, the previous Oyabun.