Chapter 49: The Demon King Returns
Hikigaya quickly forgot about that so-called Mr. Sawada. Not because he had a bad memory, but because something more interesting came up.
After calling in the Committee people, they took him to a hospital.
God-slayers don't need doctors—no matter what goes wrong with their bodies, doctors can't help them. Hikigaya wasn't there for treatment, but to see someone.
A certain ninja uncle was being treated there, and with full public funding at that—his hospital room was more luxurious than most.
Hikigaya waved the Committee people away, then pushed the door open and entered. Sitting down in a chair beside the bed, he looked at the unlucky fellow called Amakasu Touma with an expression of pure schadenfreude, eyes scanning him up and down while the man's gaze showed nothing but surprise, guilt, and helplessness.
"Still got your little brother intact?" Hikigaya asked with a smile.
"St–still here…" Cold sweat was already dripping down Amakasu's forehead.
"Why not just cut it off? It's the shortcut to getting stronger—just like going bald."
"C–cut it off?" Amakasu was clearly terrified. He flinched hard, clamped his legs together, then winced as if he had pinched something.
As expected of that yandere knife-girl—she actually almost managed to castrate a professional troublemaker who wielded supernatural powers, the type of guy even ordinary Yomi martial artists couldn't handle.
But being unlucky was never a reason for Hikigaya to spare someone from teasing, even if the whole thing didn't make much logical sense.
"Yeah, cut it off." Hikigaya stretched out a finger. A small swirl of cloud-energy rose from its tip. His smile now seemed somewhat ferocious.
That scared Amakasu so much tears almost came out. He hurriedly shouted: "I didn't do anything, really!"
Perhaps because he shouted so desperately, he almost sounded like a eunuch acolyte.
Hikigaya's smile faded. In Amakasu's eyes, this boy—who had just fought alongside fellow god-slayers in a chaotic battle with gods—was even scarier than before.
"You people still don't seem all that afraid of me." Hikigaya said flatly.
"Why would you think that?" Amakasu asked carefully. "As far as I know, there aren't many people left who dare to approach you on their own."
"But you don't seem afraid, do you?" Hikigaya's eyes flicked around. "Got anything to eat? I'm hungry."
"O–oh, yes." Amakasu hurriedly propped himself up and grabbed an apple from the plate on the cabinet, handing it over.
"They've already been washed," he added quickly.
Hikigaya gave a short grunt, took the apple in hand—then, right before Amakasu's eyes, the fresh, juicy fruit withered away in his palm, shriveled to nothing, and was burned to ash by a flame that appeared in his hand. That flame didn't vanish after consuming the apple. Instead, it shifted into a strange emerald green, eerie enough to make one's skin crawl.
Hikigaya looked straight into Amakasu's wide, terrified eyes, grinned weirdly, then suddenly slapped that green flame onto his head.
In an instant, the fire sank into Amakasu's skull. Yet there was no pain. Instead, he felt a surge of healing energy coursing through him—far more effective than any spell he had ever encountered.
Poor Amakasu didn't even have time to be horrified before his mind turned to mush with confusion.
What the hell was this supposed to mean? Not only did he not get beaten up, the guy even healed him?
"Yeah, didn't look very tasty anyway." Hikigaya stood up under Amakasu's bewildered gaze. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, take me to see your boss. I've got something to tell her."
"B–boss?" Amakasu's tongue was tripping over itself. His usually sharp brain had completely crashed.
But Hikigaya didn't answer. He had already walked out.
Amakasu sat frozen on the bed for a long time, until Hikigaya's power had completely healed his body. Only then did he react.
Throwing back the blanket, he ripped off the bandages. The skin where his wounds had been was now smooth, not a single trace left.
Not surprising—but terrifying.
Amakasu knew well: for some people, Hikigaya's power would be far more shocking than if he had destroyed an entire city.
"Was that just a warning… or…?" Amakasu recalled how Hikigaya's power could invigorate crops. That led him to a conclusion:
"We're the wheat. He's the farmer…"
As a professional intelligence agent, Amakasu understood: Hikigaya Hachiman had gotten stronger yet again. That green flame was the proof.
What a headache. Every time Hikigaya fought, he had to update the files. And every update just deepened the sense of human helplessness.
How the hell was anyone supposed to have confidence in training when faced with that?
Sighing in resignation, Amakasu picked up his phone and called his superior in Tokyo.
"He's stronger. He's coming to see you."
Then he hung up. Nothing more needed to be said—anything else would just be pointless.
As for that so-called "Paradise" plan, it could go straight to hell. Only an idiot would come up with that kind of nonsense.
Feeling heavy with gloom, Amakasu tucked himself back under the covers. Having let go of all his worries and thoughts, all he wanted now was a good night's sleep—then to leave this cursed place tomorrow.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, Hikigaya had already returned home.
Komachi wasn't back yet. He took a shower, grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, and went back to his room.
He glanced at his bookshelf filled with books. They no longer satisfied him. Now he needed rarer, more obscure materials.
This battle hadn't just made his many powers easier to use—it had also pushed them through a qualitative transformation.
He was really curious how far he could go in the end.
But starting today, he had decided: he was going to become an archaeologist. And for that, he needed to study first.
"After a trip to Tokyo, I'll have someone buy me some books." He muttered to himself, sitting on the bed and drinking happily.
He replayed the entire battle in his mind—from preparation, to ignition, to conclusion.
Letting Amakasu go wasn't part of his original plan. At first, he had fully intended to send the guy flying straight into the sky.
But something had changed his mind.
Sun Wukong might have left—but he had taken Mariya Hikari with him. Even as a god-slayer, Hikigaya couldn't stop it.
God-slayers were strong, but not omnipotent. In a world where rogue gods casually strolled around, without sufficient power, one couldn't enjoy the beauty of life at all.
Maybe his protection over Komachi wasn't truly reliable. Maybe, in that regard, the Committee was better—they were the local power, after all. At the very least, they surely had ways of hiding from gods. After all, the Netherworld had a retired rogue god as an "inside man." Surely that had given them some tricks.
Now that the grudge had been formed, who knew if that monkey would one day go crazy and come back for a sneak attack while Hikigaya was away?
"Forget it, let fate decide." Hikigaya made his decision. "I've played around enough these past days. Time to do something serious."
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