Chapter 102: It Has Truly Come

The night had deepened, nearing the early hours of the next day.

The Imperial Japanese Air Force General Base erupted into a sudden, raging inferno. The flames spread unchecked, billowing outward until the rescue squads finally mobilized; by then, the fire had consumed everything within a several-kilometer radius of the base.

That night, countless residents in Tokyo were jolted awake by the commotion. Looking out from their homes, they saw a pillar of fire rising into the sky from near and far, the night air scorched a blood-red hue by the blaze. It was as if the heavens themselves were in a state of fury, raining down divine punishment.

At the Imperial Palace, the reigning Emperor of the Second World War era was, naturally, roused by his subordinates. Confused, he crawled from his futon, eyes bleary with sleep as he hastily donned his ceremonial robes. Amidst urgent prodding, he made his way to the conference hall.

By the time he arrived, still feeling lightheaded and dazed, he looked out at the horizon from the courtyard and listened to the frontline reports regarding the airbase. The shock of the news brought him to a state of sudden, trembling clarity.

As if questioning the very nature of reality, the Emperor leaned against the doorframe, eyes wide, and fixed his gaze on a silent, bowing officer. He demanded in a loud voice, "What did you say? Say it again!"

With a trembling voice, the officer replied, "Your Majesty, the General Air Force Base has just been attacked by the American, Kyle. It has fallen completely into a sea of flames. The entire Tokyo fire department has been dispatched to contain the spread..."

"The American, Kyle? Is he a monster? How could one man invade an entire airbase?" the Emperor muttered in disbelief.

"According to the surviving communications officers, he may truly be the embodiment of a demon. Bullets have no effect on him, and artillery fire cannot kill him. Our soldiers are slaughtered with ease the moment they encounter him," the officer said through gritted teeth, pulling a blood-stained devil card from his pocket. "Inside the base, he forced Commander Okamura to commit seppuku and left this card. He also said..."

Seeing the officer’s hesitation, the Emperor barked, "What else did he say?!"

"He said he would pay Your Majesty a visit soon to seek instruction on the meaning of 'Bushido'."

As the officer’s words fell, the faces of the high-ranking officials in the hall shifted. The Emperor leaned against the door, his expression dark and uncertain; had his attendants not rushed to support him, he would have collapsed onto the floor.

"Your Majesty, stay calm! You are the 'God' of this nation. You must not fear a mere intruder on your own soil," an attendant whispered, steadying him.

"Right, you are right," the Emperor nodded, forcing himself to regain his composure. With a stern and dignified expression, he looked toward the cabinet ministers and military commanders in the hall and asked, "What is your counsel? How shall we deal with this madman who has invaded us from America?"

Sasaki, the Commander of the Japanese Imperial Army General Base and a representative of the military faction, scoffed first. "This talk of being 'unkillable' is merely an excuse used by the survivors to cover up their failure to defend the base, a way to demonize the intruder!"

With cold, iron-blooded resolve, he continued, "Your Majesty, I suggest we mobilize half the armed forces stationed in Tokyo to conduct a thorough sweep of the entire city. Once this American, Kyle, is found, we shall surround and eliminate him on the spot!"

Tanaka, the Prime Minister and representative of the cabinet, lowered his eyes and echoed, "Indeed. We are a great nation of warriors; how could any man be stronger than our samurai? While the military conducts the search, Your Majesty should convene a meeting tomorrow to address the public personally. We must assure them that we have the capability and the confidence to strike down this intruder!"

Commander Sasaki added, "As for the news of the airbase falling, even if the public in Tokyo becomes aware, we must contain it within the city limits. We must not let it spread and become a laughingstock for our enemies!"

With the two most powerful men in the country having spoken, the remaining officials chimed in with agreement. The Emperor cursed them as old foxes under his breath, but he had no choice but to feign compliance.

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless one for everyone in Tokyo. And yet, this was merely the opening act; the true spectacle had yet to begin.

The next morning.

'American Kyle attacks the General Air Force Base, reducing it to scorched earth!'

The news was too momentous to contain, like dropping a depth charge into a fishpond. No matter how much the authorities tried to suppress or soothe the public, the word spread rapidly.

'The unkillable monster,' 'The American devil,' 'The madman dominating Germany'...

Within a few hours, almost everyone in Tokyo was panicked, discussing these topics. The name 'American Kyle' clung to everyone's hearts like a nightmarish mist.

Forced into a corner, the Emperor had no choice but to appear within the heavily fortified Imperial Palace—now under five times the usual security—to deliver a speech in the name of God. He declared that the intruder would be dealt with swiftly, using this to forcibly pacify the public.

While the common people lived in fear and the soldiers carried out their cautious, city-wide search, a different group was stirring: self-important ronin samurai were excitedly flocking to Tokyo, hoping to seize the opportunity to kill Kyle and win instant fame.

Meanwhile.

Tokyo, Kurami Ward, the main dojo of the Shinto Munen-ryū style.

Kyle, his Venom-like form slightly disguised, stopped on the road before the dojo and looked up.

The area occupied by the sword school was vast, with over a dozen buildings in the traditional Japanese style layered one after another. The main hall was as large as a modern stadium, capable of holding nearly a thousand people training in swordsmanship simultaneously.

Kyle stood tall on the road, coldly surveying the magnificent dojo, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips.

Japanese Bushido. Its origins were lost to the mists of time, but it flourished during the Edo period, when the Shogunate recruited samurai and promoted their code of ethics.

Japanese samurai specialized in the way of the sword—the art of killing. Although the Shogunate was later overthrown and the Sword Abolishment Edict was passed, the surviving samurai continued to revere swordsmanship, believing that the way of the sword was the way of the warrior, and a true master could be invincible.

This sentiment had persisted to the present day.

The dozens of sword schools passed down through the generations were mostly settled in the bustling heart of Tokyo. Even the soldiers of the Imperial Army had been trained in such dojos in their youth.

In a sense, these sword schools were the authoritative foundations of Bushido, the pillars of the soul upon which the Japanese samurai built their belief in their own superiority.

The Emperor, the high officials, and the armed soldiers at the military bases were all cautiously guarding against an attack, never imagining that Kyle’s target had shifted.

He intended to first trample and destroy the very foundation of Japanese Bushido!

Kyle stepped forward with confidence. The civilian clothing he wore began to shift, morphing back into his cool, dark tactical suit. He walked firmly and powerfully toward the main entrance of the dojo.