Kami-Jutsu: The Yakuza's Son is Aware-Chapter 10: Life is so Unfair

Wow. Deep philosophy. Maybe he and I would’ve made decent friends. I’d actually like a boy my age, with the same powers, to talk to sometimes.

But he had to ruin it:

"Even that lady I turned to mashed potatoes... for her to even be in this building, she had to have what it takes. And even if she was good, like you say—then it’s only natural I purge her."

I didn’t reply. I just kept blocking his strikes, sidestepping invisible Kamijutsu blasts that distorted the air.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" he sneered. "You can’t really blame me for her death, can you? Can you blame the earth for earthquakes? Or volcanoes for erupting? Nah. Death’s inevitable."

Sigh.

He’s just a brat, after all.

"Yamada," I said calmly. "You’re a bundle of contradictions. And not the good kind."

"What?" he snapped, driving a punch into my abdomen.

It sent me crashing through a wall. Plaster exploded around me, but he was already on me again before the dust settled.

"You say death is inevitable," I said, catching his next blow. "But you’re angry about your sister’s death."

Ferry had backed off, watching our scuffle unfold with sharp, calculating eyes. Probably waiting for me to screw up so he could swoop in, save me, and win my favor.

But there’s no need for that. I’m already done here.

Yamada’s movements slowed. His fists stopped flying. He started breathing heavily.

Exactly.

"You could’ve turned out to be a good kid, Yamada," I said. My voice ceremonial now, "But you were swayed by darkness. Go and join your sister in the afterlife."

I raised a fist, then immediately opened it.

"Wai—" he raised his arm.

BAM!!

In the blink of an eye, Yamada’s flesh and major organs blasted away from his form, leaving just a bloodied, naked skeleton with subtle flesh signs and some sprouts of hair, extending his hand.

Thick blood sprayed down like the ceiling was weeping for his hindsight.

He fell down and stopped moving.

He’d been using Kamijutsu way more than me, but he wasn’t smart enough.

Using Kami particles is like lifting weights: you have to drop them sometime, or your arms get sore.

He coated himself in it, turning into Superman for a while.

I only used the particles when defending or attacking, specifically because of how unpleasant the strain was.

Seeing how unwise Yamada was, I figured it was best to wait for his exhaustion.

If you’re tired, it’s very difficult to lift weights—or at least do it properly.

He was left wide open the moment he started getting weary.

And I’d already been analyzing how the subtle Kami particles flowed through his body.

So it was easy to use all my strength to rip his skin and organs away.

"Child murderer..." Ferry whispered behind me.

"What?"

"I mean, yay! Ken-sama wins!!" He immediately switched tones and held up my arm like a referee. "I was beginning to wonder when you’d kill the cocky bastard already."

He started poking at Yamada’s bones, so I left him and walked over to the Russian’s corpse.

I pulled her off the wall. There was some resistance—her body felt heavy, stiff—but I managed.

Her brain matter spilled out of her head as I brought her down.

I sat on the ground, now facing her.

My heart was beating weird.

I remembered what Yamada had said: "She felt love... almost reverence..."

Why did I feel so bad when she was killed?

Why in the world did she come back here?

Life is so unfair.

"I’m sorry, okay?" I told her. Half of her face was a crushed melon. "I wasn’t strong enough to protect you... But did you really l-love me?"

"Pfft!"

I heard Ferry almost choke on his spit.

"What? I’ve never had someone love me aside from my family." I defended myself.

"No discrimination," Ferry nodded, still stifling a laugh. "Continue. I won’t laugh again."

I turned back to her and looked at her red lips.

Najima used to kiss me all the time since we were little. She said it was a sign of love, so I used to kiss her back then...

Until Mother warned us to stop.

"That’s for when you love someone enough to marry them," she said.

And apparently, Najima wants to marry me.

Mother said over her dead body.

I brought the Russian close to my face. Then I kissed her lips.

I felt that warm tingle in my cheeks and ears again.

"I would’ve loved to show you to my family—

I’m actually looking for a rental girlfriend to trick them with."

Ferry had a concerned expression as he wiped the lipstick off my lips with a handkerchief he got from nowhere.

Wait a second...

"Hey, Ferry," I asked, "Why can’t I see her ghost?"

Ferry raised a brow. "Hm? What are you talking about? Ghosts aren’t real."

"..."

"Sorry, sorry. Jokes apart. But normally, when people die, their souls aren’t conscious as they head to the afterlife."

"But I saw yours."

"That’s because it’s me! I’m awesome!" He smugly grinned. "Actually, I retained my consciousness even when I died. But ghosts do exist. Folks who really don’t want to die yet—if their wills are strong enough, they retain their consciousness and resist the afterlife. Most of them become vengeful spirits, eventually evolving into a Yokai."

"Ah, so you’re a Yokai."

"Please don’t insult me. I’m a Divine Beast Familiar."

I dropped the Russian’s body with a soft thud onto the marble floor.

To be honest, I didn’t feel like playing with her corpse anymore.

The drifting feelings I had for her were fading, and it hurt.

Was I falling out of love with her?

(Bro, I don’t think you were in love with her in the first place. Just curious.)

Well, that was saddening.

I didn’t get my bones broken. I didn’t even reach near-death.

And now, I couldn’t fall in love either.

Anyway—where there’s life, there’s hope.

"Now," I said, standing up, "let’s go cut short the lives of the executives on the top floor."

"They’ll probably hoard all the tough guys there," Ferry stood like a man, unsuccessfully brushing blood off his fur. "So you might get a bruise or two. Happy?"

"I hope."

Before the elevator door shut behind us, I glanced back at the Russian lady one more time...

The scent of copper still hung in the air, sharp and iron-like. Her blood had soaked into the hotel carpet, and faintly, I could hear the building’s distant humming: electricity running through walls, the elevator’s quiet clunking as it ascended.

That feeling of regret and guilt still lingered.

And it wasn’t so bad.

Now I’m torn—should I save lives so I won’t feel crappy?

Or let them die so I can enjoy the guilt?

Both prizes were juicy.

TING!

The elevator door opened to the penthouse.

The contrast hit immediately.

The air was cooler. Sharper. It even smelled expensive—leather, perfume, something citrusy.

Velvet couches. Gilded décor. A sprawling open room with a private stairway that led even higher.

The kind of luxury that didn’t just whisper wealth, but screamed power.

"Welcome to the end, boy."

A female voice cut off our observation.

Then—THWIP! 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Glowing ropes lashed around Ferry from across the room.

They’d been fired from a small, gun-like device.

He hit the ground hard, tangled, twitching slightly, his expression dazed.

"This," the woman’s voice echoed, "is where your heroics end."