Chapter 58: Silver Soul (Earth Arc)

This was a bustling street, teeming with people and cars, lively to the extreme. When a black sedan plummeted straight from the sky, everyone on the ground was stunned. They screamed and hurriedly dodged out of the way.

Boom!

The car landed squarely in the middle of the intersection. It was well-made; even after falling from the sky, it hadn’t shattered into pieces, though it was twisted and mangled. Gasoline streamed incessantly from the vehicle, and an explosion seemed imminent. The crowd and nearby cars hastily retreated from the area.

They all knew there were people in the car, but seeing it in such a state, no one believed anyone inside could have survived.

Suddenly, the car made a noise—a bang that startled the distant onlookers. They thought it was about to explode.

But to everyone’s surprise, the grotesquely twisted car door was blown off, and a person slowly crawled out, their movement as twisted and awkward as a ghost descending a staircase.

It was Takeko Okakura. Her appearance was wretched: her face was covered in blood, her hair a tangled mess, her clothes ripped and tattered. Yet she paid no mind to these things now—her right arm was broken and throbbing with excruciating pain.

At the very moment the car struck the ground, she had slammed her right hand onto the pavement, lessening the force of the impact but shattering her arm in the process. Now, her right arm hung limp and useless at her side, so numb with pain it felt severed from her body.

After crawling out, she noticed neither Silver the Octopus nor Sasaki had emerged from the car. Glancing at the overturned vehicle, she decided to rescue them both.

She approached, extending her uninjured left hand. Gripping the edge of the car, her muscles bulged, and she slowly lifted the black sedan, flipping it over with a toss of her hand.

The crowd gasped in astonishment at her strength.

Ignoring them, Takeko first opened the rear door. Silver the Octopus had been thrown about and was barely conscious. She grabbed a tentacle and dragged him out.

Then, opening the front door, she found Sasaki also unconscious. Despite the airbags, his head had struck the roof, and blood was streaming from his scalp.

She undid his seatbelt, slipped her left arm around his shoulders, and tried to pull him out. At that moment, Sasaki awoke.

“Sorry, Miss Okakura. I think my leg is broken. It hurts—please be gentle.”

Takeko looked down and saw Sasaki’s leg was trapped. Without hesitation, she leaned in and smashed the parts pinning him, then easily pulled him free.

“I’ve never been this disheveled before, Miss Okakura,” Sasaki said, glancing ruefully at his soiled clothes.

He seemed more concerned with the filth on him than his injuries!

“My apologies. Next time, I’ll make sure to teach that octopus some manners,” Takeko replied.

Just then, Silver the Octopus regained consciousness. Through blurry eyes, he saw Takeko holding Sasaki.

Under the streetlights, Takeko’s left arm was slung around Sasaki’s shoulders, his body half-reclined against her. They were chatting and laughing, disturbingly close.

Silver was outraged. With his beady eyes glaring, he scuttled over and wrapped his tentacles around Takeko’s free side.

“Hiss!” The pressure on her injured arm made Takeko gasp in agony.

“Silver, my right arm is hurt. Be gentle,” she admonished.

He seemed to understand, lowering his head to see her arm, blood-soaked and mangled. A storm of emotion flashed in his black, beady eyes. He paced anxiously around her, as if searching for a solution.

“Silver, you’re an octopus now. There’s nothing you can do. Just stay put,” Takeko said with a laugh.

Sasaki also noticed her wound and asked weakly, “Is your right arm broken?”

“Yes, it’s so painful I can’t lift it. Sasaki, when do you think the police or medics will arrive?” she asked.

Sasaki pushed up his bloodstained glasses and replied, “I don’t know. But usually, in situations like this, the villains arrive faster than the rescuers.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a fleet of black sedans fell from the sky—the very ronin who’d been hunting them.

“Mr. Sasaki, you really jinxed us,” Takeko said helplessly.

“No, it’s just that the police always arrive after the villains. That’s how the hero can stand out, and the police can look incompetent while the villains appear cruel.”

“Mr. Sasaki, aren’t you a policeman too? That would make you one of the useless bystanders, wouldn’t it?”

“No, I’m the hero cop, the elite who fights the vicious criminals,” Sasaki replied, his eyes dull.

“So, Mr. Sasaki, can you stand up and fight those men aiming their guns at us?” Takeko asked.

“Regrettably, no. My leg is broken; I can’t stand at all. But in movies, there’s always a beautiful confidante who rescues the hero. Miss Okakura, you’re perfect for that role.”

What a shameless man! No wonder he spends his days spamming people with emails.

“Mr. Sasaki, you truly are an elite—you can even make excuses sound so dignified. If you want me to save you, just say so,” Takeko said, lowering Sasaki to the ground and pulling a compact spiked club from her pocket.

The cool night wind blew as Takeko stood before Sasaki, her back facing him.

“Mr. Sasaki, when do you think your useless colleagues will arrive?” she asked.

“They’ll come after you finish killing all these men,” Sasaki replied from where he lay.

“Then stay put, Mr. Sasaki. And remember—I’m no mere confidante. I’ve always been the protagonist!” Takeko declared, activating a mechanism in the club that fired shells from its tip, striking the ronin.

“Get her! That woman’s a lackey of Earth, working for the Amanto—she deserves death!” the ronin howled.

So they were after her.

“Mr. Sasaki, looks like you got caught up in my mess, hahahaha,” Takeko laughed, though her eyes were cold as ice.

“It’s fine. As I said, an elite is always happy to serve a beautiful lady,” Sasaki replied.

“Mr. Sasaki, perhaps if you didn’t say ‘elite’ so much, women would actually like you!” Takeko retorted, dodging a bullet aimed at her.

Since they were all here for her, she moved away from Silver and Sasaki. Now both men—one turned into an octopus, the other with a broken leg—were useless in battle. She could only rely on herself.

Brandishing her spiked club, Takeko charged the ronin. The human body was so much softer than a robot’s; with one swing, she crushed a ronin into a bloody pulp. Blood spattered across her body and face, her beautiful features dark and twisted, enough to chill the heart.

The ronin recoiled in fear. This woman was terrifying—far too terrifying!

“Why are you retreating? She’s just a woman! A despicable lackey kneeling before the Amanto—” The shouting ronin didn’t finish his sentence; his head was already severed.

Takeko emerged from behind him, smiling, her foot on the man’s decapitated head, his mouth still agape in a final, silent scream.

“Quick, use the cannon!” the ronin cried, scrambling to the artillery. As they prepared to fire, Takeko leaped lightly onto the cannon’s platform.

Looking down on the cowering ronin, she grinned, her eyes nearly closing with the force of her smile.

“Earth will never be saved by the likes of you,” she declared, smashing the cannon to pieces with one strike.

Some people, in the past and even now, had always been so narrow-minded, acting as if they were saving the country when they were only serving their own interests. In truth, they were nothing more than a band of villains.

Bang! A blast of searing heat erupted behind her.

Takeko turned to see their black sedan explode—Silver and Sasaki were still there!

“Gin-san!” In that instant, the only name she could call out was his—the hopeless fool, the silver-haired man who, even as an octopus, could do nothing right.

Don’t die! No matter what you become, you must live!

She raced in panic toward the burning car. Amidst the soaring flames, she saw the blackened octopus struggling to drag a man out.

Through the inferno, Takeko seemed to see the man wreathed in silver light, stepping from the blaze.

That man was Shiroyasha Gintoki Sakata. No matter what form he took, he always possessed the strongest samurai soul—a silver soul.

Even now, as an octopus…

“Gin-san!” she shouted again. The octopus looked at her with a familiar, weary gaze—he remembered.

He remembered everything!

Dragging her club, Takeko walked up to Silver. Seeing her approach, the octopus lowered his head in embarrassment, recalling how, as an octopus, he’d clung so clingily to this woman these past days. The shame was unbearable.

What should Gin-san say at a time like this? No, an octopus can’t speak—so what could he do?!

“Gin-san, please take care of this man until the police arrive. Stay behind me now—I’ll protect you both,” Takeko said with a smile.

Silver was stunned. How many times had it been now? This woman always did this—always smiling as she marched to her death. He was supposed to be the protagonist, yet she always stood before him.

Why did her back appear so reliable? Why did she always stand at the front, her slender shoulders bearing everything? Wasn’t she tired? Her right arm was broken, her left injured, yet she remained standing. Why couldn’t she just hide behind a man like any ordinary woman?

Takeko Okakura…

Silver gazed at her with complicated eyes, staring at his octopus limbs. A red gleam flashed in his eyes. Even as an octopus, there were things he could do!

“Honestly, such a stubborn, good woman,” Sasaki suddenly said from the ground, looking at Takeko with a calm expression—the usual look of an elite.

Unable to restrain himself, Silver lashed out with a tentacle, knocking Sasaki unconscious. He’d always disliked the man—envy, jealousy, and resentment in one. Rich playboys like Sasaki were the ultimate foils to his own life.

After dealing with Sasaki, Silver looked around. Swords littered the ground. He crawled over and picked them up.

Tentacles wrapped tightly around the hilts, his dark octopus eyes flashed red, and with eight swords waving, he charged into the ronin. They fell before him in droves.

“What the hell is that octopus?!” the ronin screamed.

Takeko glanced back to see Silver wielding eight swords, hacking through the enemy like an octopus-shaped meat grinder. No one left standing in his wake.

“Puff puff puff!” Silver swung the swords, blowing out a stream of air from his mouth.

Takeko laughed. The octopus was rallying a battle cry.

“Don’t underestimate an octopus, you foolish humans!”

Author’s note: Dear little angels, come out and play with the madman! The madman wants to chat with you all—rolling around—even if you nag me for updates, that’s okay! Though I might not actually update more (whack!).