I'm a bit sad about Black Clover's rushed ending. Yeah, it's worse, and I just hope it gets the "Bleach treatment" like TYBW.
But I get it, the man has been through fucking hell and back. His wife and daughter got sick, and his friend died. Then it got even worse because people started blaming him and threatening his goddamn family.
What the fuck is wrong with people?!!
This is the same bullshit we saw with the shipping problems where they started threatening Horikoshi, too. Bruh, if you want to blame someone for the rushed ending, blame Shueisha. What the fuck are you even on about?
Man, these people shouldn't even be in this community. If you can't even take the moral values from the stories you read, you shouldn't have a fucking opinion on them. These people should be put in prison for threatening lives.
Anyway, that's it for my rant today. Have fun with the new chapter, guys.
Love you all.
— X —
A month had passed.
The construction of Kouta's new house was complete, including the extensive basement work he had carried out alone. From the outside, it appeared as a sleek, modern two-story home.
Beneath it, however, lay a vast basement that spanned the entire footprint of the property, filled with humming machinery, half-assembled devices, and advanced fabrication equipment. Kouta stood in the center of this underground workshop.
The current focus of his attention was a prototype Arc Reactor, a crude but functional energy source glowing with a pale blue light.
"This should be enough to power the entire building, but I still need to refine the design before it's truly viable," Kouta muttered, studying the reactor's flickering output.
He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, the fatigue of another long build session settling in.
At that moment, a hologram flickered to life beside him, a woman with long, flowing white hair, her appearance bearing a striking resemblance to a certain character from NieR:Automata. She materialized with a cheerful, almost naive energy.
"Kouta-kun," she said, her voice bright.
"Yes, A2?" Kouta turned his head and offered a small, tired smile.
"Mila-chan has just left the property."
"Got it," he replied. Then he asked, "How is the worldwide information gathering progressing?"
"It still requires more time to compile all available global data and knowledge," A2 reported.
"Focus on accumulating knowledge first. Do you need additional storage capacity?" Kouta inquired.
"I am still transferring everything into my primary database. There is sufficient space remaining," A2 responded, her holographic face forming a gentle smile.
"Good," Kouta said. "I'm heading back to my other residence now."
"Okay," A2 said before her form dissolved into scattered pixels of light.
Kouta walked to the far wall of the basement where the staircase ended. He placed his hand against a seemingly ordinary section of the concrete. With a soft hum, the wall rotated smoothly, revealing the other side, his bedroom in the house above.
He made his way to the kitchen, where a neatly packed bento box waited for him on the counter.
"She really didn't have to," he murmured, though he couldn't suppress a smile. He grabbed a spoon and began eating, silently activating his usual nutrient-absorption rule as he did so.
'It's honestly better than Rika-san's cooking,' he thought privately, keeping the comparison to himself.
After finishing the meal, he washed the container and left the house, locking the door securely behind him.
On the walk back to his apartment, he scrolled through new genetic research on his phone, which was wirelessly linked to A2's database. As he read, he activated a memorization rule, absorbing the complex information effortlessly.
He arrived at his old residence just as Rika was glancing out the window, noting his return at 7:30 PM yet again. A few minutes later, he knocked and entered for dinner.
As they ate together, Rika finally broached the subject that had been on her mind.
"Where have you been spending so much time lately?" she asked gently.
"Working on my projects," Kouta answered between bites.
"Are you still trying for the Hero Course?" There was a cautious weight to her question.
"Yes. If I fail, I can always enter the General Studies or Support Course," he said pragmatically.
Rika's expression remained soft, but a subtle tension lingered around her eyes. She didn't like the idea of him aiming for the Hero Course, but his newfound Quirk at least gave him a chance, however small she believed it to be. More than anything, she feared him getting hurt.
'I'm so worried about him,' Rika thought, watching the quiet confidence that now defined him. 'I just hope he doesn't push himself too far.'
. . . .
The next day, Kouta arrived at the illegal fighting ring beneath the old stadium, clad in his 'Belial' persona. He watched a preliminary bout from the shadowed upper walkway.
His own match was next.
Just then, Giran approached, a familiar smirk on his face.
"Yo, it's been a while," Giran said, raising a hand in greeting.
Kouta gave a curt nod.
"You've gotten pretty cold lately. You've been visiting my spots less. Not ordering more materials?" Giran prodded. "You don't even come by for fight schedules anymore."
The reason was simple: Roxana, Kouta's primary sponsor, had taken over direct communication, arranging meetings in constantly shifting locations to avoid detection.
"Not yet. The amount I have is still sufficient," Kouta replied flatly.
"Suit yourself. If you ever want to sell some of that tech you're always tinkering with, you know where to find me," Giran said, turning to leave. "See you later, Belial."
Kouta offered another silent nod as Giran walked away.
Almost immediately, a man in a suit approached and leaned in close, his voice a whisper. "Miss Roxana instructs you to conclude your match swiftly. She wishes to speak with you afterward."
"Sure," Kouta replied.
When his fight was called, he descended to the pit. His opponent was an unassuming man who took a ready stance. The starting bell rang.
The man's hands began to glow, his Quirk activating, but Roxana wanted efficiency. In the blink of an eye, before the glow could solidify into an attack, Kouta blurred forward. A single, precise strike to the jaw sent the man crumpling to the floor, unconscious.
The match was over in a second.
Kouta followed the man in the suit to a private lounge. However, it wasn't Roxana who awaited him. A man with azure hair and eyes lounged on a plush sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his arms spread casually along the backrest. He wore a suit that screamed luxury.
"Relax," the man said, noting the immediate tension in Kouta's posture. "I'm not here to pick a fight. Take a seat, Belial."
A flicker of genuine concern crossed the man's face as he saw Kouta's hands curl into fists. He had done his homework.
After a tense beat, Kouta sat in the chair opposite him.
"What do you want?" Kouta asked, his voice devoid of warmth.
"I want you to fight for me, not my sister," the man stated plainly. "She's been… overly tense lately."
Kouta stood up immediately, having heard enough.
The guards flanking the man shifted, but a subtle gesture from their employer halted them.
"Is it about money? I can offer significantly more than my sister," the man pressed.
"No," Kouta said, turning to leave without another word.
Outside the lounge, he found Roxana waiting with her own entourage. Kouta gave her a slight, acknowledging nod as he passed.
"Did you accept my brother's offer?" Roxana asked, her voice cool.
"No. I don't have time for your family drama," Kouta stated, not breaking stride.
A pleased smile touched Roxana's lips. She then opened the door to the lounge, her expression hardening into something cold and cruel.
"Jeremy. What is your problem?" she demanded.
"Ah, sister! It's been a while. I've missed you," Jeremy replied, his grin not reaching his eyes.
Roxana rolled her eyes. "Get to the point."
"Your fighter, Belial, is quite loyal. I thought I could sway him. It seems he enjoys working with you. Have you told him what you're really involving him in?"
"What do you actually want from me, Jeremy?" Roxana's voice was ice.
"Just to see your cute reaction," he said, his tone teasing but edged.
"You're wasting my time." She turned to leave.
Jeremy called out one last thing. "You should give up while you still can. Your little army could never defeat his."
"Don't speak as if you know anything. You're the one who pulled out," Roxana shot back before shutting the door firmly behind her.
In the quiet that followed, one of Jeremy's guards leaned in. "Should we attempt to track Belial, sir?"
"Don't waste the effort," Jeremy sighed, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling. "If Roxana herself can't pin him down, you certainly won't be able to." He closed his eyes. "I suppose it's time for me to re-enter the fray."