もののけ | monster | soshiro hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

さんじゅうはち | thirty eight

もののけ | kaiju | monster

38

[A lengthy chapter ahead]

🔞

Soshiro

MY EXPRESSION REMAINED STOIC, but inside, my heart was pounding as if it were about to burst from my chest. The deafening crashes, each one echoing like a gunshot, filled the conference room with a terrifying rhythm. Kiyomi, displaying a strength had never witnessed before, was relentlessly slamming Hashimoto's head into the table marked by her Lieutenant's placard. Each impact sent a shiver through the engraved metal, which trembled with every strike.

The air in the room was thick with tension, almost suffocating. Every Captain was frozen in their seats, their eyes wide with shock, sweat trickling down their faces. Kiyomi's grip on Hashimoto's bald head was fierce, her fingers digging into his scalp like claws. She lifted his head with brutal force and smashed it down onto the table repeatedly. Each collision resonated with a sickening crunch, the sound of bones breaking and blood splattering.

She didn't stop with Hashimoto. When Kiyomi had first entered the room, her presence alone was enough to silence the scattered conversations. She had dragged in another unconscious man, his body bloodied and limp. It was Hashimoto's second-in-command, Yoshi Tanaka, and the sight of his mangled form had set everyone on edge. I knew it—touching Akira was such a stupid move for him. Dragging Tanaka's broken body behind her, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. His once crisp uniform was now soaked through with crimson, and his face was almost unrecognizable, swollen and discolored from the beating he had clearly endured.

Kiyomi had thrown Tanaka's almost lifeless form onto the floor with a dismissive flick of her wrist, the impact causing a sickening thud that echoed through the room. The sheer brutality of her actions was enough to paralyze everyone present. No one dared to move or speak. She then turned her attention to Hashimoto, who was foolishly seated in her chair, oblivious to the storm that was about to break over him.

With a cold fury in her eyes, Kiyomi had marched over to him and, without a word, grabbed his head and began the savage assault that now played out before us. Each time she slammed his head into the table, it was as if she was delivering a message to us all: this is what happens when you cross me.

I flinched as I watched Kiyomi effortlessly hurl Hashimoto's body across the room. His limp form collided with the wall with a sickening thud, the impact reverberating through the room and leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The sheer force she exerted was staggering, a testament to her raw, unbridled power.

"You want my seat so badly?" Kiyomi's voice sliced through the heavy silence, cold and dripping with venom. It was the first word she had spoken since entering the room. "Then take it. I don't even need it."

With a casual flick of her wrist, she sent her chair flying in Hashimoto's direction. The metallic seat collided with his already broken body, eliciting a pained groan from him. Blood smeared on the floor where he lay, his face a mess of bruises and cuts.

"You're a fucking devil..." Hashimoto mumbled, his voice barely audible.

I heard Gen whisper beside me, his voice barely above a breath, "Shit, she's really not in a good mood."