The golden card gleamed in the dim bedroom.
On the back of the card, the Berserker class icon crouched like a beast waiting to spring.
Even though it was only an image, it seemed to radiate a brutal, ominous pressure, the kind of presence that made the air around it feel heavier.
“Berserker…
Ibaraki-Douji?”
Tachibana Hibiki whispered the True Name written on the card.
A faint warmth seeped into his fingertips.
It was not a five-star.
But for a starter ten-pull, pulling a four-star already counted as standard protagonist treatment.
In the game, Ibaraki-Douji had been a powerful single-target Berserker with excellent flexibility.
As an initial combat force, she was more than enough.
Honestly, more than enough was putting it politely.
For an ordinary high school student with no combat experience, no Magecraft, and no mysterious bloodline, even a four-star Berserker was basically a nuclear warhead with horns.
Hibiki pinched the corner of the card between two fingers.
Then he took a slow breath, straightened his posture, and raised his arm in what he personally believed to be a stylish enough pose.
“Following the summons of the Holy Grail, I respond!
To the Guardian of the Scales…”
His voice stopped.
The room remained quiet.
No storm of magical energy erupted.
No summoning circle spread across the floor.
No Heroic Spirit descended in a flash of light.
The golden card simply sat there in his palm, silent and motionless, as if calmly observing his performance and deciding not to comment out of basic human kindness.
The only sound in the bedroom was the computer fan still working diligently in the background.
Hibiki slowly lowered his arm.
The silence grew a little sharper.
This was awkward.
“System,” he said after a moment, his expression stiff.
“What’s going on?
Is this card defective?”
[Eh?
Master, did you not receive the instructions?]
The System’s text skipped across the screen, playful and innocent enough to make him want to punch the monitor.
[The Mystery Level of this world has declined to nearly zero.]
[Because of that, Heroic Spirit cards cannot connect to the Throne of Heroes and summon a complete Heroic Spirit body.]
Hibiki felt as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water directly over his head.
Cannot summon a Heroic Spirit?
Then what was the point?
Was this Heroic Spirit Summoning System just a fancy card-collecting app?
Was this shining four-star card nothing more than an expensive-looking decoration?
What kind of scam handed someone a limited shiny card at the beginning, then immediately told him the card could not be used under the current rules?
Fraud.
This was blatant fraud.
As if sensing his mood plummeting, the words on the screen refreshed in a hurry.
[But!
But!]
[Although the card cannot connect to the Throne of Heroes, it still contains that Heroic Spirit’s complete power, memories, and Saint Graph!]
[Therefore, Master can overlay the Heroic Spirit card onto yourself and temporarily transform into that Heroic Spirit.]
[During possession, you may use all of their power!]
Hibiki paused.
“Transform?”
Not summon a Heroic Spirit.
Become one himself?
For a few seconds, he stared at the screen in silence.
Then, deep inside his mind, something far larger and far more absurd than merely summoning Servants began to take shape.
If he could only summon a Heroic Spirit, then he would still be Tachibana Hibiki, a Master hiding behind the scenes while a legendary existence fought in his place.
But if he could transform into a Heroic Spirit himself…
That meant he could create another identity completely separate from Tachibana Hibiki.
No.
Not just one.
He could create countless transcendent existences, each walking through the world with no apparent connection to an ordinary high school student living in Bunkyo Ward.
On one side, Tachibana Hibiki: harmless, broke, sleep-deprived, and struggling with manuscripts.
On the other, a legendary oni from Mount Ooe.
And after that?
Heroes.
Demons.
Saints.
Kings.
Monsters.
Saviors.
Calamities.
All those myths could step back onto the stage of the modern world through him.
A grand performance of Mystery’s revival, directed by his own hand beneath Tokyo’s neon lights.
That sounded much more interesting than being a simple Master.
“I see.”
Hibiki suppressed the thoughts stirring in his chest.
A gentle smile returned to his face.
“So it’s a persona system.”
The words on the screen flickered.
“Then how do I use it?”
[Please place the card against your chest.]
[Then silently chant: Spirit Origin Possession.]
Hibiki followed the instructions and pressed the warm golden card against his chest.
“Spirit Origin Possession.”
The moment the phrase settled in his mind, the card erupted with blinding golden light.
It broke apart.
Countless Spiritron particles scattered into the air, then rushed toward him like living things.
They sank into his body through his chest, his arms, his throat, his eyes.
The change came brutally.
His bones screamed under the strain.
His height was forced upward, then collapsed back down, shrinking into a smaller, more delicate frame.
Muscles, nerves, skin, organs, everything was rewritten in a single violent breath.
His blood burned.
No, it was not blood anymore.
It felt like molten iron was flowing through his veins.
A raw, ancient impulse roared up from somewhere deep within him.
Hunger.
Violence.
Pride.
The desire to crush, tear, laugh, and reign.
His short black hair turned a brilliant gold.
Two crimson oni horns tore through the skin of his head.
The hoodie that had fit him perfectly moments ago now hung loose over his much smaller body, swallowing him in folds of fabric.
When he raised his right hand, what entered his sight was no longer a human hand, but a red-skinned oni claw with sharp black nails.
Power filled him.
Not the shallow excitement of adrenaline.
Not the fragile strength of muscle.
This was something older and heavier, something that poured into every limb and bone until his body felt like a vessel barely large enough to contain it.
He could see dust drifting through the lamplight.
He could hear his aunt’s steady breathing from the next room.
He could smell the lingering scent of oden from the convenience store at the end of the street.
The world had opened.
No, perhaps it was more accurate to say that he had finally stepped above it.
“So this is…”
His voice had changed.
It was lighter, sharper, and carried a strange arrogance that did not belong to Tachibana Hibiki.
“This is what it feels like to be transcendent.”
This was Ibaraki-Douji.
The great oni of Mount Ooe.
Hibiki turned toward the full-length mirror beside the wardrobe.
Reflected in the glass was a small figure with brilliant blonde hair, red oni horns, and ruby-like eyes.
The face was childish, almost doll-like, but the aura around it was anything but harmless.
This was the kind of creature that ancient people would have seen once and spent the rest of their lives offering prayers against.
A small oni girl.
And yet the pressure she radiated was immense.
Hibiki flexed the grotesque claw of his right hand.
The urge to rip apart everything in front of him bloomed in his chest.
It was primitive, simple, and frighteningly sincere.
But his rationality held firm.
The bloodlust belonged to Ibaraki-Douji.
The will controlling this body was still Tachibana Hibiki.
“Is this the power of an oni?”
The feeling was intoxicating.
For one dangerous second, he felt as though he could do anything.
But a feeling was only a feeling.
If he wanted to understand this power, he needed to test it.
The oni girl’s golden slit pupils swept across the room before settling on the sturdy wooden computer desk.
Hibiki extended his claw, spread his fingers, and placed them gently over the corner of the desk.
He did not use magical energy.
He did not call on any technique.
He simply applied strength.
His five fingers slowly closed.
Creeeak.
The sound of tortured wood cut through the quiet room.
The solid tabletop, which should have been firm enough to survive years of use, crumpled in his grip like cheap foam.
Wood fibers split apart one by one, producing a sharp, grinding noise that made his teeth itch.
“Kyo?”
A woman’s voice came from the next room, soft with drowsy concern.
“Are you still awake?
Don’t stay up too late, all right?”
Tachibana Hibiki’s excitement vanished on the spot.
His heart clenched.
Too loud.
He had made too much noise.
He released the desk at once and silently chanted in his mind.
“Spirit Origin Unload.”
The overwhelming power receded like a tide.
His body returned to normal.
The blonde hair, red horns, ruby eyes, and oni claw disappeared.
The bloodlust and savage pride faded with them, leaving behind only an ordinary high school boy with black hair, black eyes, and dark circles from lack of sleep.
Hibiki hurried to the wall and knocked on it lightly.
“Sorry, Aunt Kyoko.
I accidentally knocked over a pile of books.
I’ll sleep soon.”
“Is that so?
Good.
Don’t push yourself too hard.”
Her relieved voice came through the wall.
Hibiki let out a slow breath.
Then he turned back toward his desk.
Five deep finger marks had been crushed into the corner of the solid wood.
The sight made his scalp prickle.
Luckily, Aunt Kyoko had not come over to check.
Otherwise, how was he supposed to explain that her weak, sleep-deprived nephew, who looked as if a strong breeze could knock him over, had crushed a wooden desk with his bare hand?
It seemed he would have to be careful when using this power in the future.
At the very least, he absolutely could not mess around at home.
Hibiki returned his attention to the computer screen.
There was still one critical question.
“System, I understand how the card works now.
What do I need to obtain more Heroic Spirit cards?
Is it still Saint Quartz?”
[Yes, Master!]
[However, Saint Quartz cannot be created from nothing.]
[It must be exchanged using Human Order Foundation.]
Hibiki frowned slightly.
“Human Order Foundation?”
[The so-called Human Order Foundation is the collective consciousness born from humanity’s recognition, awe, and belief toward the mysterious and the transcendent.]
[The Human Order Foundation of this world is so thin that it is almost dried up.]
[Therefore, the first priority is to make humanity recognize the existence of the transcendent once again!]
As the System explained, a new line of purple pixel text slowly formed at the center of the screen.
[Main Quest Issued: Cultivate the Transcendent, Nourish Human Order, Weave Miracles.]
[Phase One Goal: Within Tokyo, create a supernatural event influential enough to bring Mystery back into the public eye.]
Hibiki stared at the quest description.
His face showed no emotion.
Cultivate the Transcendent.
Nourish Human Order.
Weave Miracles.
In other words, it wanted him to become a fraud.
No.
That was not quite right.
A fraud pretended to create miracles.
He could create real ones.
In this lifeless age where Mystery had withered almost to nothing, he was being asked to stir the first wave of supernatural revival, a wave that could one day sweep across the entire world.
What a…
wonderful job.
Hibiki looked down at his own hand.
It was pale, human, and slightly thin from lack of exercise.
Under the dim desk lamp, that ordinary hand formed a sharp contrast with the monstrous oni claw marks carved into the corner of the desk.
His boring daily life had ended tonight.
What young man had never carried a little chuunibyou fantasy in his heart?
After coming to this strange yet familiar country, Hibiki had prayed countless times for a miracle to appear.
Now, at last, his wish had been granted.
A plan began to form in his mind.
If he needed to create a supernatural event, then what could be more direct, more terrifying, and more convincing than letting a real oni rampage beneath Tokyo’s night sky?
The corner of Tachibana Hibiki’s mouth slowly curved upward.
A silent smile appeared in the glow of the purple screen.