Bang!
Takei Musan delivered a powerful kick, sending Asuka flying through the air. She slammed hard against a wall, which immediately cracked under the impact. Her body sank deep into the fractured concrete.
She couldn't stand anymore.
"Shikinami!"
Rei Ayanami cried out in alarm.
Asuka was a top-ranking EVA pilot, known throughout NERV for her formidable hand-to-hand combat skills. And yet… she was being tossed around like a ragdoll by Takei Musan.
It was unbelievable.
Takei glanced coldly at the injured Asuka and sneered.
"Remember this day, little chick. It's your death anniversary."
Asuka's body was half-embedded in the wall. That last blow had nearly drained her of all strength. Her entire body throbbed with pain. She heard his voice and sighed inwardly, bitterly.
So it's true. I really… can't beat him?
She turned her eyes toward Rei and, gasping, forced herself to speak:
"Run… just go!"
"What about you?" Rei asked, her voice calm but uncertain.
Though Takei Musan still stood blocking the alley, his earlier attack had smashed the wall behind Asuka. What had once been a dead-end was now an exit.
Escape was possible.
"Forget me… If you don't go now, Misato will never find out what happened."
Asuka forced a strained, bitter smile.
"Go, doll… if you stay, you'll just hold me back. If you leave, I'll fight better."
"…Alright. I'll leave this to you."
Rei hesitated briefly, then nodded.
Asuka was a first-rate pilot—far stronger than Rei in close-quarters combat. If anyone could hold out, it would be her.
"Still not moving? What, need me to escort you?"
Hearing Asuka's voice again, Rei made up her mind. She turned and left.
The crumbling wall gave way with a light push, revealing the city streets beyond.
Rei stepped out quickly. She had a mission: get to NERV and call for backup.
"Ha! That little girl really believes in you, doesn't she?"
Takei Musan sneered, sticking out his crimson tongue, his voice filled with cruelty.
"No one escapes me. I'll play with you first—then I'll track down that little brat and kill her too. You think you two can leave my grasp? Not a chance. You should've stayed in the school! Hahahaha!"
His laughter echoed down the alley—wild, mocking, savage.
"Damn it… I'm Captain Asuka Shikinami Langley!"
Asuka lifted her bloodied face. Her cheeks were pale, and the taste of blood filled her throat. Her entire chest burned with pain—she alone knew just how serious her injuries were.
"Come on, then! Even if I die, you're not getting past me!"
She shouted and launched herself forward, sending a high kick straight at Takei Musan.
---
Meanwhile, Rei—dressed in a stolen police uniform—stood on the open street.
She heard the fierce sounds of battle still echoing from the alley behind her.
She looked back, just once.
And in that single glance—she seemed to understand everything.
The wind brushed across her cheek, making her already serene expression look even colder. But in her eyes… there was worry.
Asuka… please hang in there… until I get back.
---
Back at the school…
The classroom was filled with the stench of blood.
All across the floor, streaks and pools of red were splattered. The scent was so thick it clung to the skin, stung the nose, and set nerves on edge.
Broken fingers, torn limbs—everything lay scattered across the room, making it feel less like a school and more like a war-torn battlefield. A vision straight out of hell.
No one knew how many members of the Black Dragon Gang had already fallen, but at the center stood Kitazawa Ryota—still holding a blood-stained steel blade.
Calm as ever, he looked like a storm in human form.
Around him, the remaining gang members hesitated, glancing nervously at each other. No one dared to step forward.
There were still hundreds outside the school, sure—but this man… Kitazawa Ryota…
Just approaching him was nearly impossible, let alone hurting him. It wasn't that they couldn't kill him—it was that they couldn't even touch him.
Outside on the field, the teachers and students who had been rounded up by the gang stared in stunned awe.
They'd all seen what just happened.
Kitazawa Ryota had fought like a demon.
Wielding only a single blade, he had cut down dozens without letting anyone get close.
Though he had taken a few hits, none were critical—just shallow cuts across the skin.
He now stood soaked in blood. But none of it was his own.
To those watching, he didn't look human anymore. He looked like a warrior carved from shadow—like a demon risen from the battlefield.
That steel blade… it wasn't a weapon.
It was a soul-reaping phantom.
Gulping nervously, everyone watching silently asked themselves the same question:
What kind of monster… is Kitazawa Ryota?
Only Ryota himself knew the truth.
At the most critical moment, he had used up all of his accumulated War God Points—earned through battles against the Angels—to purchase a protective barrier.
Thanks to that shield, he had been able to fight without hesitation.
Otherwise, not even Kitazawa Ryota could have survived three hundred blades swinging at him at once.
But using the shield came at a cost.
It had drained all his War God Points—points that were incredibly difficult to earn. There were only so many Angels to fight. Each point was hard-won, and every one of them counted.
Now, all of it… was gone.
Ryota's expression darkened as he thought of the price.
Then—he moved.
He took a single step forward.
But that single step hit like thunder.
The remaining gang members panicked—stumbling back in unison.
Kitazawa Ryota didn't feel human to them anymore.
He felt like a demon.