Kami-Jutsu: The Yakuza's Son is Aware-Chapter 11: Mother Will be Furious.

***

I looked at the person talking.

It was a woman in a red kimono, her hair pinned up neatly, lounging on a sofa like she owned the entire floor.

Flanking her were three other women in fitted black outfits, face masks concealing everything but their eyes.

They looked strong. Not bulky, but tight. Sharp. There was something in the way they stared that unsettled me.

Even Yamada had that vibe. That silent kind of intimidation I couldn’t explain.

"I commend you for coming this far at all," she said, sipping from a sake cup balanced effortlessly in her fingers. "But we’ve restrained your bio-weapon. And trust me, that binding is of exceptional strength and toughness."

Bio-weapon?

I turned toward Ferry, tied up on the floor. He looked back at me, expression blank.

Were they talking about this oversized wolf?

"Ferry is not a biological weapon," I said plainly.

Everyone tensed. Like I’d stepped on a live wire. They exchanged sharp glances.

"Then he must be one of those cutting-edge androids!" said another voice—this one from a man in a fur-lined coat, a jagged scar running down his left eye. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Ferry was trying not to laugh. He was trembling from the effort.

I swept the room with my eyes, trying to pick out who the actual decision-makers were.

The woman in the red kimono was definitely high up. You could tell by how casually she sat there, like the others orbited around her.

Then there was a man in a brown trench coat sitting calmly at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t spoken yet, but something about him spelled "Strategist."

Of course, there were a lot of armed people stationed around the room—maybe 80 or so—but some stood out more than others.

The guy in the fur coat who had spoken earlier was likely one of the executives.

The towering bald man in a tailored suit, steel knuckles on each hand—he was the type who didn’t need to talk to be dangerous.

He’d probably give me the most trouble.

Then a quiet woman, half-hidden in the shadows near the far wall, wrapped in a black robe with no guards. That alone said plenty.

And finally, the youngest among them—mid-twenties, maybe—dressed like a butler, black hair tipped in white. Too refined to be a foot soldier.

These five stood out from the dozens around.

But it wouldn’t hurt to confirm.

"Uh..." I started awkwardly, "If you’re part of the five executives, could you raise your hand?"

"..."

Right. No one moved. Just more cold and deadpan glares.

"Give up the act, boy," the man up the stairs said, finally. "We know your type. Now that your dog’s been apprehended, you’re powerless."

Again with this?

Ferry had had enough. With a casual motion, he stood up. A quick shake of his body, and the bindings snapped apart like they were nothing.

Whatever they were made of—those glowing lines didn’t look like anything physical. But still, they weren’t made to hold Ferry.

"Ken, it seems these people have some kind of misunderstanding."

(Don’t call me ’Ken.’)

(Ah, I forgot! But they’ll all be dying anyway, so...)

Ferry padded over to the wine cellar in the corner and started rifling through bottles.

"Why don’t you show them?" he said, pulling one out and pouring it into a nearby glass. "I’ll sit this one out. They look dangerous, after all."

For once, even the composed ones showed cracks.

Of course they did. A massive wolf, colors on his fur subtly shifting, standing upright and talking like a bored man.

"How did you get your hands on this technology?" the woman in the red kimono asked. Her voice had lost its calm. "Who sent you?!"

I sighed.

"I’m tired of all the questions," I turned to Ferry. "Do you know what the time is?"

"Well, when I was test-tasting human flesh on the fifth floor," he said, sipping whiskey, "it was nearly 10:00."

Fifth floor...

About thirty minutes have passed since then—so, around 10:30 now.

Mother will be furious.

"Listen here," I faced the people, "if you bring me the executives, I will be taking my leave now, and no one else will die. My curfew is almost up."

Still shaken, the red kimono woman gestured. The three ladies around her darted toward me.

If 11:00 hits and I’m not home, I wonder what excuse will save me from another round of those unpleasant scoldings.

The stakes have just gone up.

The women attacked at once. One wielded a short knife; the other two used... Shinobigatanas, I think. Their swings were sharp, fluid—graceful. Even at a glance, it was obvious they far surpassed me in skill. About Najima-genius level.

But I was effortlessly slipping through their attacks, puzzling the kimono lady.

Yes. Ever since I began manipulating Kami particles more deeply, it seems my human senses have sharpened as well.

If I focus, I can hear the grind of tires—multiple vehicles pulling up at the hotel entrance.

Despite my reflexes, one caught my hand and twisted it behind my back, locking me in a bend. My side was exposed, and the onee-san’s blade was coming fast toward my ribs.

KRASH!

Her blade shattered—like glass striking concrete. My clothes weren’t even scuffed. I had shielded myself with a layer of desensitized Kami particles.

Ah... the gap between a Kamijutsu user and an ordinary fighter was too wide.

I bent my wrist and gripped the woman who held me.

With a simple upward swipe, an invisible force crashed into the one with the broken sword. She didn’t fly—she broke.

Split in two from the groin up. The force carried on and smashed into the woman in a robe at the corner—one of the suspected executives.

A very unexpected result. I only meant to knock her away.

The third woman sensed danger and tried to leap back—but her head turned before her body did.

While her chest still faced me, her face looked back at the others. Then her body gave out and collapsed.

Horror filled the room. No one was calm anymore. No one relaxed. They had realized Ferry wasn’t the only monster here.

The woman I still held began to struggle, trying to rip her wrist free. But it was of no use.

I could hear her breath quickening, shallow and frantic. Her eyes were wide, sweat pouring down her temples. She was trembling in my grip.

There’s something entertaining about that primal fear in humans.

But... when I start imagining my loved ones in the same position, it gets harder to enjoy. It softens me and makes it difficult to end them.

She began stabbing my face with her short knife—