CHAPTER 39: CHAPTER 39(END OF VOLUME 1)

Seijirou stirred, a low groan escaping his throat as he blinked his eyes open. The faint scent of miso and grilled fish drifted through the air, teasing his half-awake senses.

His stomach growled in response, but the ache in his muscles quickly reminded him of yesterday’s battle.

Every movement sent a dull sting through his arms and ribs, evidence of the brutal exchange against Ryuhei and that man, Haruto.

He leaned back against the headboard, exhaling slowly.

The room was filled with morning light filtering through the curtains, warm and calm, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had unfolded the day before.

From the kitchen, faint sounds of clinking dishes and the soft hum of Suzune’s voice reached him.

She was cooking. Of course she was.

Always up early, always taking care of things quietly.

There was no rush to get up. Seijirou knew better than to interrupt her cooking.

Instead, he sat there, lost in thought, the smell of breakfast fading into the background as his mind replayed the fights.

Karyoku. That strange power system. It wasn’t something that existed in the original game world he remembered.

A force that let people borrow the power of supernatural beings—Oni, spirits, even demons—by offering something in return.

It was dangerous, unpredictable, and far too convenient.

He frowned, rubbing his temple.

In the game, the main power system was Ki, something trained through discipline and years of mastery.

But Karyoku was... too easy and cheap.

It was power granted, not earned, which meant whoever granted it could take it back anytime they pleased.

That kind of dependence made Seijirou uneasy. It was like standing on quicksand, strong only until the ground gave way.

And yet, that wasn’t what disturbed him most.

What truly gnawed at the edge of his mind was the implication behind it. If Karyoku existed, it meant there were beings, creatures, entities, beyond the physical world.

Supernatural, divine, or worse.

His jaw tightened. Gods. Demons. Outer beings. Were they real here too?

He thought back to that novel, The God of Underworld, the one this world regarded as an actual mythological account rather than fiction.

He had laughed at it before, thought it absurd.

But if the appearance of Herios, once dismissed as a mere character, was proof... then the Outer Gods—the incomprehensible things that stood beyond even the divine—might also exist.

A chill ran through his spine.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "So it wasn’t just overthinking after all."

He had hoped it was coincidence, a world with mixed mythology and borrowed names.

But the more he saw, the clearer it became that this world’s foundation was not limited to the rules of a game.

It was deeper, older, and far more dangerous than he had imagined.

Just then, the smell of food grew stronger, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He exhaled, forcing himself to relax. No point worrying before breakfast.

Whatever gods or monsters existed out there, they weren’t his problem. Not yet.

"...I’ll deal with it when I have to," he muttered quietly, pushing the blanket aside as he finally got up from bed.

*

*

*

Later. After breakfast.

Seijirou stood before the mirror, tugging the zipper of his gray hoodie up to his collarbone.

The garment fit snugly over his frame, hiding the faint bruises that still decorated his torso.

Black pants, black boots, simple, functional, no-nonsense. The same outfit he wore whenever he didn’t feel like standing out.

Suzune leaned against the wall, already dressed. Her black turtleneck clung to her figure, highlighting her shape despite the casual choice.

Faded blue skinny jeans with a few deliberate rips ran down her legs, and black ankle boots completed the outfit.

Her hair, still slightly damp from her earlier shower, brushed her shoulders as she eyed Seijirou critically.

"You look fine," she said, crossing her arms. "But I’m riding a slower bike today. My body’s still sore from yesterday."

’Phrasing.’

Seijirou glanced over, expression neutral, then gave a short nod. "Fair. I would too."

The two left the house and entered the spacious garage, lined with several motorcycles gleaming under the white ceiling lights.

The air smelled faintly of oil and metal.

Without hesitation, Seijirou walked toward his Kawasaki Ninja 400—a modest, sharp-looking machine with a quiet purr compared to his usual rides.

Suzune, after scanning the row, stopped at the Yamaha R3 beside it. She brushed a hand over the seat before mounting it, adjusting her gloves as she did.

"This one’s mine today," she said, half to herself.

Engines came to life one after another, the garage filling with the low rumble of synchronized machines.

While the engines warmed up, Seijirou checked his phone, the screen lighting up with a message from Shuo:

’We’re already at the hospital. Sakai’s here too. Visiting Renji now.’

He turned the phone toward Suzune. "Those two beat us to it."

Suzune smiled softly, shaking her head. "Really? I thought Sakai said he didn’t want to visit because Renji would laugh at him for getting hit."

"He talks a lot," Seijirou said flatly, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "But he cares about each other. They both do."

She looked at him, amused. "And you don’t?"

Seijirou’s expression hardened instantly. "Me? Don’t make me laugh. They’re my subordinates. That’s it."

Suzune chuckled, swinging a leg over her R3. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Boss."

"I’m serious," he muttered, starting his bike. "They’re not friends. They just follow orders."

"Mm-hmm." Suzune hummed dismissively, revving the engine. "Now come on before visiting hours end."

Seijirou clicked his tongue and followed her lead, rolling out of the garage.

The crisp morning air hit their faces as they sped down the street, tires humming against the asphalt.

Even though they had chosen smaller, slower bikes, the two still weaved effortlessly through traffic, moving as if the road itself bent around them.

The city blurred past—concrete, glass, and flashes of color—until the hospital finally came into view, towering and sterile against the skyline.

They entered the underground parking, their engines echoing through the enclosed space before coming to a stop.

They dismounted, locked the bikes, and removed their helmets.

Suzune fixed her hair in the reflection of her visor, while Seijirou adjusted his hoodie again, making sure it covered the faint bruises along his neck.

Without a word, they walked side by side toward the elevator.

The mirrored doors closed in front of them, sealing in the faint scent of gasoline and metal as they ascended toward Renji’s room.

*

The air inside Renji’s hospital room was light and filled with laughter.

The sound of jokes, banter, and half-serious complaints bounced off the white walls, softening the sterile atmosphere of the ward.

Sakai and Shuo were sitting on the couch near the window, both wearing visible bandages on their faces and arms.

Renji, lying on the hospital bed with his arm in a sling and a few bruises still healing, was laughing so hard his shoulders shook, his voice rasping slightly from the strain.

"You two look worse than me," Renji said, pointing at Sakai’s forehead, which had a large bandage. "What happened? You can’t handle the fact that your buddy was beaten and decided to take revenge?"

Sakai snorted, "Don’t flatter yourself. We just fell down stairs."

Before Renji could answer, the door opened.

Seijirou and Suzune entered, both looking casual but clearly carrying the wear of yesterday’s fight.

Renji’s gaze immediately landed on the bruises along Seijirou’s neck and the faint marks on Suzune’s wrist.

His grin widened. "Oh, look who decided to show up. Boss, did you and Suzune fall down the stairs too?"

Seijirou stopped a few steps from the bed, his expression blank.

He looked at Renji, then shifted his eyes toward Sakai and Shuo, who both averted their gaze.

The corner of his mouth twitched in mild irritation. He could already guess what kind of excuse they fed Renji to avoid explaining the real reason for their injuries.

He sighed and rubbed his temple before replying with a straight face.

"Yeah," Seijirou said dryly. "We were so happy you got hospitalized that we went to celebrate at a bar and drank too much that we fell down the stairs."

Renji blinked, confused for half a second before Sakai started laughing so loudly it almost broke the act.

"See?" Sakai said between laughter, slapping his knee. "Told you, didn’t I? Who would be dumb enough to take revenge for you, huh?"

"Yeah," Shuo added with a lazy grin, his voice calm but heavy with exhaustion. "Taking revenge sounds like a pain. Sleeping’s better."

Renji’s expression twisted in amusement and mock fury.

"You bastards!" he shouted, trying to sit up, only to wince as pain shot through his side.

Suzune chuckled from behind Seijirou, covering her mouth slightly as she walked over to stand beside the bed.

"Don’t get too mad, Renji. They’re just being themselves."

Renji glanced at her and frowned. "And you, Suzune? Were you with them?"

Suzune tilted her head slightly, then gave a nonchalant shrug. "Nope. I was... busy. Met a guy last night. We got a bit too into some S&M stuff, so I didn’t have time to join their bar adventure."

The room froze.

Sakai choked on air, Shuo blinked twice as if processing, and Renji’s expression slowly turned into one of horror.

His lips parted in disbelief.

"At least make your lie believable, woman!" he yelled, pointing at her dramatically.

Suzune only laughed harder, waving him off. "Oh, come on. You should’ve seen your face."

Renji groaned, falling back against his pillow as Seijirou moved toward one of the chairs, dragging it over and sitting down beside the bed.

Sakai and Shuo exchanged glances, both trying not to burst into laughter again.

The mood in the room had become light, bright even, like a group of old friends who hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Renji, once his laughter subsided, looked around at all of them—his friends, his comrades, the people who always got into trouble for him even when he told them not to.

His expression softened, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly.

"You guys are idiots," he said quietly, but there was warmth in his tone. "Seriously. You didn’t have to do anything. I told you it wasn’t worth it."

Shuo stretched, yawning, pretending to be uninterested. "Did what?"

Renji ignored him, continuing. "You could’ve just stayed out of it, but you went anyway. Look at you all now, bandages everywhere. You think I don’t know what really happened?"

The room went quiet for a brief moment. Suzune turned her gaze toward Seijirou, who sat still, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

His eyes didn’t move from Renji, his expression unreadable.

Sakai scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

None of them answered.

Renji gave a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, i mean it."

Before the words could settle, a hand came down sharply on his head.

Renji yelped in pain.

"Ow! What the hell, boss!?" He looked up, glaring, only to see Seijirou standing beside his bed, expression stern.

"We fell down the stairs," Seijirou said evenly. "That’s all. Don’t say stupid things."

Renji stared at him for a second, eyes wide, then let out a small laugh.

"Heh... yeah, yeah. I know." His voice trembled slightly as he rubbed the spot Seijirou hit. "I was just thanking the gods for making you fall down the stairs too, you bastards."

That broke the silence.

Sakai snorted, covering his mouth, Shuo chuckled under his breath, while Suzune laughed openly, leaning against the wall.

Even Seijirou couldn’t help the faint twitch of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You’re thanking the gods, huh?" Sakai said, smirking. "You’re welcome, then."

"Man," Shuo said with a half-smile, "you really don’t know when to shut up."

Renji shot back, "You guys celebrate when I’m dying, and I’m the one who needs to shut up!?"

Laughter filled the room again, louder this time, real and unrestrained.

The kind of laughter that only came from shared pain and familiarity.

It was rough around the edges but genuine, a sound that carried the warmth of friendship even beneath the teasing and the insults.

The nurse walking past the door peeked in for a moment, smiling softly before continuing down the hallway.

Suzune eventually moved closer to the window, opening it slightly to let in the morning air.

The faint sound of city life drifted in—the hum of cars, birds, and distant chatter. She turned back to the group, her eyes soft as she watched the others bicker and laugh.

For all the chaos that surrounded them, moments like this made it feel like everything was still normal.

Sakai started telling some exaggerated story about how he "heroically" fell down a staircase carrying Shuo, which caused another round of laughter.

Shuo immediately denied it, saying that Sakai tripped first and dragged him down with him.

Suzune added fuel to the fire by claiming she saw a video of it online—though, of course, there was no such video.

Renji nearly fell out of his bed laughing again.

Seijirou sat back in his chair, resting his chin on his hand.

His gaze wandered over his friends, their smiles, their noise, the way they filled the room with so much life.

He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but part of him felt a sense of relief. Seeing Renji alive, awake, still arguing like usual.

It reminded him that even in this twisted, unpredictable world that had somehow merged fiction with reality, there were still things worth holding onto.

Renji wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "Man, you guys are the worst."

Sakai grinned. "And yet, you’d be bored without us."

"True," Shuo added with a lazy grin, leaning back on the couch. "We’re your entertainment."

Renji smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go getting yourselves killed for me again, alright?"

Seijirou stood, stretching slightly. "Don’t worry. Next time, you’re the one falling down the stairs."

Everyone laughed again, the sound echoing through the small hospital room like a memory in the making.

And for a brief, precious moment, none of them were fighters, or gang members, or people burdened by the world’s strange, supernatural rules.

They were just friends, alive and laughing, together.