Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week-Chapter 408 - 406: The King of Hell Wants You Dead at Midnight_1
Cody knew he was going to die. It wasn’t some vague premonition—it was as if he’d gained the ability to foresee the future.
He knew with perfect clarity: when the clock struck exactly seven in the evening,
he would die.
His thoughts suddenly peeled away from the butler’s report on Nett, and his right hand instinctively gripped his cane.
The lion’s head wrought of gold crowned the top of the cane, not at all suited for a tight grasp.
Every time he clenched his cane, he could always feel a trace of discomfort.
That small discomfort constantly reminded him,
in this world there are some things you simply can’t bend to your will; to be human is to think more, reflect more.
The discomfort in his palm pulled him back from that sense of impending death, and he spoke: "Call the lawyer to me."
"Yes, sir."
The old butler bowed, asked no questions, simply carried out his master’s every command with unwavering loyalty before taking his leave.
Cody sat there, pondering that sensation of death. It wasn’t the peace of dying of old age; it felt much more like a violent, accidental demise.
Could it be he was awakening a superpower?
The possibility flashed through Cody’s mind, and his gaze dropped.
Two girls young enough to be his granddaughters clung to his side like pets, cat and dog, nuzzling up to his shriveled, bark-like legs.
Not a thread of clothing covered their bodies.
He liked young girls.
The smooth, delicate touch of their skin let Cody feel as if he’d recaptured his youth.
"You two, leave."
"Okay,"
The two girls nodded and slipped away from his feet.
Years of training had stripped them of any spirit of resistance since first being abducted; they could no longer disobey a single command from Cody.
If Cody ordered them to live, they’d live; if he ordered them to die, they’d die.
That was another thing Cody enjoyed: crushing those who resisted him, stealing their daughters, and training them into dogs that lived at his feet.
It was at times like these that Cody could most keenly savor the beauty of power.
The girls left the room.
The lawyer arrived.
Families like his always kept elite teams of lawyers on call, ready to serve twenty-four hours a day.
"Mr. Cody, what are your instructions?"
The lawyer stood before him, face full of deference.
Cody spoke: "I want to make a will. Upon my death, sixty-five percent of my estate is to be donated to the McCarthy Charity Fund.
The remaining thirty-five percent is to be donated to the Tote Charity Fund."
"Very well, I’ll prepare it for you at once."
The lawyer nodded and walked out of the room.
Cody wasn’t really interested in charity by donating his money to these funds; it was just a way to avoid paying exorbitant inheritance taxes.
And besides, for those raised on happy-go-lucky education who had no idea how these things worked, Cody’s actions were, without a doubt, the image of benevolence.
See—how selfless is Cody of the DuPont family! At the end, not a cent left to his heirs, all donated to charity, all for the cause of saving the world’s poor.
It was good for the reputation of both the DuPont family and for himself.
That’s why there were so many charitable funds under the DuPont name.
Cody rose, headed toward the door, and said, "Send for the doctor—I want a full physical examination."
An accidental death, in his mind, was very likely to be associated with awakening a superpower.
From the cases acquired out of Japan, he knew: awakening superpowers was risky business.
Those who failed would die.
He wanted a thorough checkup to see what his situation was and, luckily, didn’t need to leave Dupont Manor to do it.
Dupont Manor was furnished with the world’s most advanced medical equipment, the best doctors, and even the most comprehensive department stores on earth.
Anything he wished to buy could arrive by air from anywhere in the world with a single phone call.
Lobster from Australia, escargot from France, Kobe steak from Japan, whatever he fancied.
No matter where or when, whatever he wanted to eat, it could always be delivered to him in the shortest time possible.
This was his power.
...
The will made, the physical exam completed.
Cody came out to the manor’s balcony; some results would require the doctors’ careful observation and discussion before a final judgment could be reached.
He sat in a chair, watching from afar as the sunset painted the sky crimson.
Dupont Manor was remote from any big city; for ten kilometers in every direction, all the land was his: mountain, forest, even lakes clean as glass, the woods stocked with deer, tigers, bears—living creatures.
The furthest perimeter was ringed with high walls and electrified wire.
Six hundred fully armed security personnel, four tanks on standby within the manor grounds, and a fleet of drones outside.
Anyone trying to enter here would be neutralized immediately—the sacred private property of the United States is inviolable.
Sometimes, if he wanted someone dead, he simply had them dragged inside from the outside: there, he could openly beat them to death.
The villa entrance was guarded with heavy machine guns: strict firepower and defense meant Cody could rest assured—the only one who might kill him was Dio. No one else could possibly do it.
Nor could it be the guards who wanted to kill him.
The guards, the servants, their fathers, their grandfathers—they’d all served the DuPont family. Absolute loyalty.
Cody turned things over in his mind, seeking out every possible accident that might befall him.
After exhaustive thought, he concluded: there were only three possibilities.
One, monsters from a Different World suddenly appear; two, Dio; three, failing to awaken a superpower.
Now it was a matter of waiting for the outcome of his examination.
Cody’s hand tightened around the cane, his gaze fixed on the sunset in the distance.
He desperately wanted to look calm and unafraid.
But the instincts of his humanity gripped him tightly.
Death stripped power and wealth from his body, leaving him just another monkey drowning in a swamp, no different from anyone else.
He hated this—but there was nothing he could do about it.
If he were still young, if he felt a mysterious shadow of death, he would simply sneer, maybe laugh, and then react with wild defiance.
Back then, he’d never feared death.
But as the years wore on, his strong body withered—he could no longer run ten kilometers a day, wipe his brow, and keep working.
Now, he needed a cane just to walk. Like it or not, he couldn’t deny he was growing old, growing afraid of death, wanting desperately to live at all costs.
"Human beings really are repulsive."
Cody muttered to himself, his voice full of helpless bitterness.
All that power over the lives and deaths of others, in the end—he too would be just another plaything for Death.
...
Time crept ever closer to seven.
The space for the evening clouds dwindled away, the deep blue of night steadily forcing the sunlight into a corner.
The full moon was already eager to reveal its outline.
The stars all waited their turn to appear.
There were no factories near Dupont Manor.
Cody understood better than anyone the harm caused by factory pollution.
So he left such things for ordinary people to endure, reserving all the finest things for himself.
Unpolluted sky. Unpolluted water. Food that was always fresh, always healthy.
This place was the utopia he’d built for himself.
"What time is it?"
Cody asked aloud.
The old butler beside him glanced at his watch and answered softly, "Sir, it’s already six fifty-seven."
"Fifty-seven hmm."
Cody murmured, his hand shaking—and inside, the premonition of death grew ever clearer.
He knew with certainty that at seven sharp, his time would be up.
Monster? Dio? Or superpower?
The three options circled endlessly in his head.
The old butler had never seen his master look like this, even his hands shaking; he couldn’t help but say, "Sir, you’ll be fine."
"Tal, you don’t understand. I can see my death coming at seven, clear as day."
Cody wore a tortured expression; the feeling of seeing death inching closer and being powerless to stop it—it was utterly unbearable.
He who controlled everything could control everything except his own life or death.
The butler fell silent, said nothing more.
At that moment, the bodyguards on the balcony blocked the way for the doctor.
The doctor waved some scans and shouted, "Mr. Cody, your results are back—there’s indeed something wrong with your heart."
"What is it?!"
Cody’s heart jumped—his limbs went cold. So that was it: failed superpower awakening would kill him.
Even with all his willpower and status, he still couldn’t awaken a superpower?
Damned it!
A fierce wave of unwillingness crashed over Cody’s heart.
The doctor shoved away the guards and came out onto the balcony, handing the scans to Cody. "Look here, please."
Cody’s eyes were drawn to where he indicated—and it really did seem like there was something there.
"What is this?"
"Your sin, Cody!"
All at once the doctor dropped the act; he jammed a tiny needle straight into Cody’s throat and pulled it out again.
"Ngh?!"
Cody’s eyes bulged—his breathing grew desperately hard.
"Twenty years ago, you torched Aiton Town to build your manor. Hundreds perished in the fire on your orders.
My parents were burned alive by you. I played along, accepted your charity, all for this day!"
The doctor roared.
Cody’s eyes goggled wide—never had he imagined that such a nobody would be the one to kill him.
He’d long since forgotten what happened twenty years ago.
Prior to Dupont Manor, there had indeed been some small town, hadn’t there?
Cody raised his hand.
Compared to fear and pain, what contorted his face at this moment was pure rage.
He was Family Head of the Cody Family, reigned supreme in the United States, a power player on the world stage for decades.
Cody could have accepted his death at the hands of monsters from a Different World, or from Dio, or even from failing to awaken a superpower.
But he could not accept being killed by an ant at his own feet.
How dare this filthy scum?!
He pointed at the man—but at that moment, he heard the clock in the living room strike the hour.
Seven...
Cody thought—and his head dropped instantly.
"Sir!"
The old butler only then reacted, just about to pull his gun to shoot the audacious bastard.
BOOM—the ground shook, the whole manor, the earth, even the air seemed to tremble with the rumble.
The shock nearly knocked the old butler to the floor.
"Ea-Earthquake!"
As the cries rang out, the bodyguards broke into a run; the doctor, too, fled into the chaos.
The butler tried to take aim, but before he could, the earthquake-proof balcony cracked apart beneath him.
He fell straight down.
Crack—a steel reinforcing rod below pierced straight through his brain.
