Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.
Thank you.
Everyone from Otaku Translation
Chapter 22: The Embodiment of Justice
Several pistols aimed toward the rafters, and in an instant, a cacophony of gunfire erupted.
The stowaways crouched on the ground, huddled together. Some scrambled blindly, searching for an exit. Chaos reigned.
The buyer was stunned, and even the Blue Signal criminals were unsure what to make of the situation.
How could someone dare to barge into their operation on such a night, alone, shouting slogans of "justice" to disrupt their dealings?
But these criminals didn’t care.
Whoever it was didn’t matter. The world would soon have one less do-gooder.
Facing firepower far superior to their own, the figure in black perched on the rafters showed no sign of panic. He moved with agility, leaping to a beam closer to the criminals. Like a wisp of black silk drifting through the air, he darted between steel girders, evading bullets. His shadow flickered in and out of the darkness beneath the roof.
In the criminals’ disorganized shooting, someone accidentally shattered a high-mounted incandescent bulb. The abandoned warehouse plunged into darkness.
A bullet ricocheted wildly between the corrugated iron walls and steel beams, sparking briefly, illuminating the silhouette of the figure leaping down from above.
As the man in black landed, his feet struck precisely onto the shoulders of one criminal, forcing him to his knees. With a swift follow-up kick, he struck the criminal squarely under the chin.
Crack.
The sound of shattering bone echoed clearly.
"He’s jumped down!"
"Fire! Fire!"
"I can’t see!"
Without light, the criminals were as good as blind, their guns no more useful than clubs.
One tried to turn on a flashlight, but the man in black gave him no chance. The moment the light flickered on, two sharp punches sent the flashlight flying, its beam spinning wildly and blinding several people before it clattered to the ground nearby.
This dark embodiment of justice moved effortlessly in the dim environment. His coat swirled behind him like a tiger among sheep, fists flying as he charged at the panicked criminals.
Amidst the chaos, one stowaway crouched low, summoning the courage to creep along the wall toward the warehouse exit. Along the way, he heard sporadic gunshots and the dull thuds of fists hitting flesh. But accompanying these sounds were always the criminals’ cries of pain—they dared not fire their weapons, knowing the risk of hitting their own allies was too great in the dark.
The stowaway didn’t know who this mysterious figure was, but it was undoubtedly an opportunity to escape.
Even without the hope of reaching District Four, wandering freely was far better than being forced into labor in some black-market workshop.
His hand brushed against the rust-covered wall until it finally grasped the handle of the small door.
Maybe, just maybe, he could call the police once he got outside?
Though the man in black seemed formidable, there were nine criminals after all!
Thinking this, the stowaway reached for the door, ready to flee the chaos—but suddenly, he was shoved to the ground.
Someone had beaten him to it—the buyer, who’d also seized the chance to slip away unnoticed.
This rough middle-aged man didn’t care whom he’d knocked over in the dark. He wasn’t about to stay in the warehouse and risk getting hit by stray bullets. With the deal ruined, the sooner he left, the better.
He pushed open the rusted door with his shoulder and hurried into the rain, glancing back occasionally at the warehouse still echoing with the sounds of combat.
After taking a few steps, his face was struck hard, and he collapsed into the muddy ground, stars exploding in his vision.
Dazed, the man struggled to lift his head, assuming he’d collided with some obstacle—
Then he saw the barrel of a gun pointed at his forehead.
"Don’t move."
Red and blue police lights flashed and spun in the rainy night. Car headlights illuminated countless raindrops, and several figures holding guns approached the warehouse under the cover of the rain’s noise.
Police cars surrounded the area.
The middle-aged man spat out the mudwater that had seeped into his mouth and looked up at the officer who had struck him with the butt of his rifle—not with fear, but with relief.
"Hurry up! The deal’s been disrupted. There’s someone causing trouble inside the warehouse—take care of him quickly!"
In other, more developed districts, law enforcement might uphold justice, but in District Ten, the police were often accomplices to criminal gangs.
With District Ten’s economy in decline, police stations in fringe cities like Pingyuan City couldn’t even pay their salaries. They relied on “sponsorship” from criminal organizations to keep running, thoroughly infiltrated from top to bottom. How could they possibly oppose their benefactors?
The middle-aged man, now sprawled in the mud churned up by the rain, didn’t plan to dwell on this accidental injury.
He wanted to find a police car to sit in, order an officer to fetch him fresh clothes and a towel, and then watch as the man in black was dealt with. But as he propped himself up, a heavy kick to his chest sent him sprawling backward into the mud again, leaving him as filthy as the stowaways.
The kick nearly knocked the wind out of him, and anger flared in his chest.
"Do you know who I—"
Blood filled his mouth as he strained to look up, ready to see which reckless fool dared to uphold justice—only to find the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead.
"This is your last warning. Put your hands on your head and lie down. Move again, and you’ll be shot on the spot."
The speaker didn’t sound like he was joking.
The middle-aged man stared in terror at the uniform the person was wearing.
By now, his eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the headlights, and he finally realized it wasn’t a police uniform at all.
They were driving police cars, but they wore military-style dark camouflage uniforms, fully covered from head to toe.
And on their shoulders, without exception, was a symbol—
The emblem of the Pancontinental Coalition.
The soldiers paid no mind to the minor disturbance caused by the buyer and continued their methodical encirclement.
"We’ve approached the landing site. No trace of the tracked cargo container yet. There appear to be civilians inside the warehouse—be cautious to avoid friendly fire."
"Understood."
By the time the buyer was subdued and handcuffed, a squad had already advanced to the warehouse entrance and tossed in a flashbang grenade.
The explosion and blinding light silenced the buzzing commotion inside.
"Aaah!"
Amidst the criminals’ screams, the squad equipped with night-vision goggles stormed in immediately.
"We are the PCF(Pancontinental Coalition Force)!
"Everyone, put your hands on your heads and kneel down. Resist, and you’ll be shot on the spot!"
Even though they knew the flashbang would temporarily deafen those affected, the leader leaning against a police car outside still raised a megaphone and delivered a ceremonial warning.
As the announcement ended, the assault team had already secured the scene. Facing these elite soldiers, who were indistinguishable from special forces operatives, the criminals posed little challenge. Upon seeing the emblem of the Coalition, the stowaways sighed in relief and obediently knelt down, cooperating fully.
Not a single shot was fired. The Pancontinental Coalition took control of the warehouse, detaining all suspects and victims.
The leader of the Coalition team had a chiseled, resolute face, accentuated by a scar running diagonally from his eye to his mouth. Beneath the flashing police lights and rain-soaked night, the scene felt like the climax of an old-school crime film.
"Sir, the situation is under control," a soldier jogged over to report. "According to their statements, the container carrying the anomalous item fell into the sea during transit. Its whereabouts are unknown."
"So it’s lost..." Peter’s expression darkened slightly.
Taking down human trafficking didn’t require mobilizing so many teams. The Pancontinental Coalition had received reliable intelligence, assessed the risks, and deployed personnel to track the container to Pingyuan City—only to come up empty-handed.
Though they had disrupted criminal activity, the primary objective remained unfulfilled. It was all flash and no results, and they even wasted the Coalition’s resources. How could anyone be satisfied with that?
"Commander, there’s something unusual inside the warehouse. That ‘vigilante’ refuses to leave. We’ve detected..." The soldier held up a scanner to show him.
Peter glanced at it and understood immediately. "Clear the area and proceed. Good." Leaving the megaphone aside, he donned his helmet and gave the young soldier’s shoulder a firm pat. "Don’t hesitate, soldier. Remember our mission."
With that, he picked up his rifle and headed toward the warehouse.
"At last, agents of justice have arrived!" The black-clad vigilante was ecstatic at the arrival of the Coalition members. He finally released the criminal he’d been restraining and handed him over to the soldiers to be taken away.
But facing this man in black, the Coalition’s soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. No one stepped forward to congratulate him, nor did anyone lead the way to wrap things up. Instead, they waited.
Only when Peter entered and signaled with a military hand gesture did the soldiers relax.
"Thank you for your contribution here," Peter said, stepping into the warehouse and stopping at the entrance. He nodded respectfully to the black-clad figure. "Without you, the consequences would have been unthinkable."
"Oh, yes, someone had to step in and deal with these scum—you understand, right?"
"Mm."
An awkward silence followed.
Around Peter, the soldiers who appeared to be maintaining formation dispersed, standing at the entrance with rifles ready, waiting for something.
The tactical flashlights mounted under their rifles illuminated the figure in black. Even under direct light, his clothing and features remained obscured by an impenetrable darkness.
"So, did you arrive by boat?" Peter asked. "It’s quite the coincidence. We thought we’d come up empty, but here you are."
"Hahaha..." The man in black, oblivious to the strange atmosphere in the warehouse, struck a flamboyant pose with his hands on his hips and laughed heartily. "The embodiment of justice doesn’t need a boat! Wherever help is needed, this ally will appear!"
"That’s not what I meant, but... never mind. It makes no difference."
The last trace of hesitation vanished from Peter’s face.
Suddenly, the leader of this Coalition operation raised his hand and fired a shot directly into the black-clad man’s chest.
The large-caliber bullet tore through his body. What burst out of his back wasn’t blood, but a shadow-like mist.
The impact sent the man stumbling backward several steps, his hands clutching incredulously at the hole in his chest.
At that moment, the other soldiers stationed in the warehouse opened fire.
In an instant, dozens of bullets shredded the black form. A cloud of black smoke erupted from the collapsing body, dispersing into nothingness within the warehouse.
"Cease fire."
Commander Peter raised his arm, checked the detection equipment, and confirmed the readings had returned to normal before nodding and announcing:
"The threat entity has been neutralized!
"Given the appearance of a threat entity, we must continue our mission locally and search for any traces of other anomalous activities. Escort the criminals to official custody and prepare them for memory erasure—move out!"
The soldiers dispersed, collecting spent bullet casings. With the help of reinforcements, they quickly completed the cleanup.
The Pancontinental Coalition was an organization aware of the existence of anomalies, but their goal was clear and straightforward:
Eliminate all extraordinary phenomena from the world and ensure they vanish from human sight.
Soon, the criminals were taken away, the victims loaded into vehicles and driven off. The decoy police cars departed, and the warehouse fell silent once more, as if nothing had happened.
Unnoticed by anyone, a faint, thread-like wisp of black mist slipped silently out of the warehouse, concealed by the rain, drifting toward the ocean.
Please vote for this novel at
If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.
How to find a list of chapters
Please find the chapter label next to your favorite translator's name, and click the label.
