That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

”A railgun?! How?”

Azazel muttered the word into the deafening, ringing silence that followed the apocalyptic blast.

While the other faction leaders and the girls in the barrier were completely confused by the massive, mechanical cannon Finn had materialized, the Governor of the Grigori instantly recognized the physics behind it. As the foremost genius in Sacred Gear research, Azazel understood exactly what kind of electromagnetic horror had just erased the terrorist vanguard.

Yet, that realization only deepened his utter bewilderment.

Does he possess another Sacred Gear?

Azazel almost blurted the question out loud, but clamped his mouth shut just in time. He already knew Finn wielded Canis Lycaon, a Longinus-tier weapon forged from the legendary deity-slaying blade Ame-no-Ohabari. That alone made Finn the absolute nemesis of all divine beings. But to possess a second Sacred Gear? One capable of manipulating metal and magnetic fields to construct a functional particle weapon out of thin air?

It broke every known law of the supernatural world.

Azazel glanced toward the corner of the courtyard. Vali, the famously arrogant White Dragon Emperor, was standing completely still, his entire body trembling in a mixture of profound shock and primal terror. Seeing Vali completely paralyzed actually brought Azazel a wave of immense relief. Finn’s overwhelming display of violence had successfully neutered the dragon’s chaotic ambitions.

To a human observer, the scene playing out on the Kuoh Academy grounds was an unspeakable atrocity. The air was thick with the suffocating, metallic scent of vaporized blood and scorching ozone. The ground was painted in a slick, viscous layer of crimson.

Yet, Sirzechs, Michael, and Azazel simply watched with cold, stoic relief.

As ancient beings who had commanded armies for millennia, they had witnessed countless atrocities. The Biblical God Himself had unleashed floods, plagues, and apocalyptic earthquakes to purge the wicked. The ancient Great Wars were infinitely more brutal than this.

Instead of horror, the leaders felt a profound sense of guilty gratitude. Finn was doing the incredibly dirty work for them.

If the Khaos Brigade had succeeded in shattering the barrier, the results would have been a waking nightmare. Those terrorists viewed anyone outside their faction as cattle. They would have subjected the women to unspeakable, lewd horrors, plundered the world’s wealth, and plunged the three factions back into a bloody dark age.

Because of this, the leaders didn’t lift a single finger to stop Finn’s mechanical, automated slaughter. They understood the cold, political reality: if the rest of the world saw the horrific, absolute eradication that awaited anyone who joined the Khaos Brigade, the terrorist organization would instantly crumble from sheer terror.

For the Khaos Brigade, there was no mercy. Only a desperate, suffocating death.

But what Sirzechs, Michael, and Azazel didn’t know was that Finn wasn’t doing this for political peace. He was methodically, mathematically filling a quota.

”What are you doing?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

A hysterical, blood-curdling scream tore through the mist.

”DO YOU NOT HAVE A HUMAN HEART?! THEY ARE ALL DYING! YOU ARE SLAUGHTERING US! STOP! STOP! STOP!”

While Finn’s fiancées and allies watched in silent awe, the remaining members of the Five Principal Clans were completely drowning in despair. They had marched onto these school grounds blinded by vengeance, fully intending to torture and kill the arrogant devil who had ruined their monopolies.

Instead, they were being harvested like wheat.

”I BEG YOU! STOP IT! WE SURRENDER! WE WILL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING! JUST STOP THE KILLING!”

Ouryuu Nakiri, the proud head of the Yellow Dragon Clan, collapsed to his knees in the pooling blood. His voice was completely hoarse. He watched in absolute, paralyzing horror as his elite clan members were systematically executed. Finn didn’t even look at them. There wasn’t a single shred of malice, anger, or remorse on the young devil’s face—only the chilling, hollow gaze of a machine performing routine maintenance. To Finn, they were just trash being incinerated to clear the view.

”HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!” Nakiri wept, his tears mixing with the blood on his face.

Men, women, elders, and prodigies—the entire legacy of the Five Principal Clans was being erased in seconds. Even Nakiri knew that if his guardian spirit, the ancient Yellow Dragon, hadn’t violently sacrificed its own ethereal body to shield him from a stray magnetic pulse, he would already be a splatter on the pavement. But even with the Yellow Dragon’s physical enhancements and elite Shinto magic, Nakiri was entirely powerless. He could only kneel and wait for his skull to burst.

”BOW! BOW YOUR HEADS! KOWTOW, OR YOU WILL DIE!”

A desperate, shrill command cut through the slaughter.

Suzaku Himejima was already on her hands and knees, pressing her forehead violently into the blood-soaked concrete. She screamed at the remaining survivors to follow her lead.

Pride, honor, and ancient grudges meant absolutely nothing right now. They just wanted to breathe for one more second. As the survivors frantically groveled in the gore, completely discarding their dignity, a few of them miraculously slipped past the automated targeting system. But many more were simply too slow, their heads exploding with sickening, wet pops, showering the groveling survivors in hot brain matter.

High above the carnage, hidden securely inside the invisible pocket dimension of Dimension Lost, the Hero Faction watched the massacre in absolute, breathless silence.

I am so glad we didn’t jump down there, every single hero thought simultaneously. A cold sweat drenched their bodies, the sheer terror pooling in their stomachs like ice water.

”Cao Cao, we should retreat—” Georg whispered, his voice trembling.

”Wait!”

Cao Cao’s sharp, authoritative voice instantly silenced the room. His aura flared, forcing his terrified subordinates to hold their ground. ”Wait. Be patient.”

He tightened his grip on the True Longinus. A chance would come. It had to.

Down in the academy corridors, the last remaining architects of the ambush were scrambling for their lives.

”Run! Run! RUN!”

Katarea Leviathan sprinted down the hallway, her high heels snapping against the floorboards. Her voluptuous body was completely drenched in a cold, terrified sweat. The dark, form-fitting fabric of her outfit clung tightly to her lush curves, her massive chest bouncing heavily and painfully with every frantic step.

”KATAREA, KEEP GOING!”

While Katarea’s only thought was selfishly saving her own skin—completely willing to leave her lover behind as bait—Creuserey Asmodeus was foolishly devoted. He lagged behind, actively throwing up demonic barriers to shield her retreat.

Even in her blind panic, Katarea let out a selfish sigh of relief, silently mocking her lover for being such a pathetic, useful simp. Despite gaining the infinite power of Ophis, they were completely outmatched.

SPLASH!

The wet, unmistakable sound of bursting flesh echoed right behind her.

Katarea screamed as a spray of hot, sticky blood violently splattered across the back of her neck and her pristine glasses. Creuserey’s fate was identical to Shalba’s. The arrogant descendant of Asmodeus died without a word, his head erased by an invisible, crushing force.

Katarea stumbled, waiting for the inevitable, crushing grip to completely shatter her own skull.

But the killing suddenly stopped.

The heavy, mechanical hum radiating from the courtyard abruptly silenced. The automated slaughter ceased completely.

In the center of the blood-soaked courtyard, Finn slowly lowered his hand. His eyes, completely devoid of emotion, suddenly flared with a blinding, terrifying crimson light. Deep within his mind, a series of cold, mechanical notifications echoed loudly.

[Confirmed. The required condition of 10,000 souls has been successfully met.]

[Processing soul conversion... WARNING. Anomalous soul density detected.]

[Analyzing composition... ERROR. Energy parameters exceed the standard human equivalent by 84,000%.]

[Detected: Supreme Demonic Genealogy (Asmodeus, Beelzebub).]

[Detected: Natural Leyline Authorities (Youkai, Five Principal Clans).]

[Detected: Conceptual Reality-Hacking Anomalies (Sacred Gears).]

[Detected: Infinite Void Energy (Ouroboros Dragon).]

The Manager paused, the sheer volume of chaotic, god-tier data overwhelming the initial calculations.

[Confirmed. The standard evolutionary path [Devil Lord] has been permanently deleted from this individual’s matrix.]

[Constructing an unprecedented, transcendent evolutionary framework.]

[The Harvest Festival shall now commence.]

A pillar of absolute, suffocating darkness violently erupted from Finn’s body, piercing the night sky. The evolution—his ascension into a true Demon Lord—had officially begun.