Chapter Seven: The Bloody Battle in the Parking Lot

"Too slow..." Shiraishi muttered to himself. The "reinforcements" he had been waiting for still hadn't arrived.

Never before had Shiraishi Kuro imagined that his "combat prowess" would one day prove insufficient. He believed that if his skills weren't enough, it could only mean the situation was beyond what a human could solve through mere force.

But for now...

It was clear that the opposition hadn't just sent a group or two. Under the orders of the Tatsumaru-kai headquarters, their direct and subordinate factions had swarmed the place in full force. Among them were those truly willing to risk their lives, and quite a few who possessed real skill. Some had combat abilities equivalent to Level 7; if Shiraishi didn't possess a massive 159kg frame and were merely a standard 80kg Level 10, he would have been down already. His powerful physique provided him with endurance, strength, and muscular buffering that no ordinary Level 10 could match.

Yet... the moment the enemy started using "American Iai," Shiraishi began to feel a headache. Fortunately, it was "merely" handguns—the weakest form of "American Iai." Combined with the effects of his [Combat] skill, which remained at Level 10 thanks to extra buffs, his heightened intuition allowed him to use a "meat shield" to block fire and close the distance rapidly.

"You..." The "American Iai" bastard, seeing this "tyrannosaurus" charging toward him, felt a flicker of panic.

*Bang!*

Shiraishi executed a slide, instantly breaking into close quarters, and sent the man flying with an elbow strike to the chest. (In the original story, Makoto Kyogoku could dodge shotguns, and Ran Mouri could dodge handguns—provided she was fully prepared and applying pressure—so the protagonist doing the same was scientifically sound.)

Although his [Combat] and [Fighting] effects remained at Level 10, there was a subtle difference between [Lv9 (+1)] and the previous [Lv8 (+2)]. Once he pushed both to Level 9, Shiraishi found that the various traditional martial arts and techniques like South American capoeira he had mastered finally became practical. He transitioned from Jeet Kune Do, Taekwondo, and Muay Thai to the "threading" of Tai Chi, the "heart-piercing elbow" of Baji Quan, and the "sacrifice kicks" derived from war dances, all of which he could now execute effortlessly. Even his stance shifted from a standard fighting guard to the "Seven-Star Fist" or the "Yin-Yang Stance."

Just as Shiraishi felt a momentary relief after neutralizing the first "American Iai" threat, he sensed a sinister presence.

*No! It's not just one!*

*Bang!*

Shiraishi tried his best to dodge, but a bullet still grazed his shoulder. Fortunately, his muscles were dense enough that the blade-like impact didn't shatter his shoulder blade. (In the original, a dagger thrust by an adult male could only pierce the tip of Makoto Kyogoku’s bicep; the protagonist taking a bullet without bone damage was perfectly scientific.)

Meanwhile, a red-eyed Shiraishi grabbed a nearby thug and hurled him horizontally at the second "American Iai" gunman. Seeing his comrade flying at him, the man instinctively lifted his muzzle. The others saw "that monster" charging behind him, but it was too late to shout a warning. As the second gunman retreated to avoid his own teammate, his vision went black—Shiraishi’s "Great Dragon Tail Sweep" landed, and he could hear the sound of the man's skull fracturing.

Under this repeated shock, the remaining thugs hesitated, their morale clearly crumbling.

***

*Vroom!* *Screech!*

Engine roars and screeching tires echoed as several black SUVs plowed into the garage, ignoring collisions and parking aggressively to block the aisles around Shiraishi. Then, several more "American Iai" experts emerged.

Fortunately, Shiraishi realized their "American Iai" was inferior to the first two. At least the others had real handguns, but these men held weapons that Shiraishi recognized as 3D-printed parts—he had seen such makeshift firearms in previous cases involving violent syndicates. With the crackdown on organized crime becoming increasingly strict, real hardware was harder to come by. These guns were not only weaker but prone to exploding.

*Biu, biu, biu...*

Shiraishi immediately dove into a roll, using the surrounding vehicles as cover. Even if the firepower was poor, he couldn't afford to take them head-on; one couldn't always rely on avoiding vital organs.

"Hey, hey, this is excessive... those guys are really slow!" Shiraishi muttered. There were already over a hundred people lying on the ground in the parking garage, and yet more kept coming. Even with the "Anti-Boryokudan Ordinances" in effect for five or six years, such a large-scale clash between two wide-area syndicates was unheard of.

Before he had come down, Shiraishi had "called the police." The slow response time was clearly abnormal, though he wasn't worried that no one would show up. He had specifically notified trusted officers; they would come, just slower because they were out of their jurisdiction. This was exactly Shiraishi's intent—to arrest so many people and cause such a stir that the "scum" behind it all would be dragged into the light. He had already sent the details to several trusted colleagues.

*I didn't plan on dying in the line of duty, though...* Shiraishi thought, pressing his back against a car while bullets pinged off the metal. He had made a miscalculation—he hadn't expected them to bring so many people. He had originally pursued the "career track" to become a bureaucratic police officer, to stand above others. But sometimes, one cannot hold onto their ideals. Shiraishi himself had been tempted by "justice," unable to help but stray from his original path.

"Don't let the shooters get too close!"
"The rest of you, close in slowly!"
"Boss, that guy is too terrifying... Ah!"
"Anyone who retreats dies!"
"Corner him, and we win!"

They were narrowing his space. Even though Shiraishi used the garage's layout to weave through the chaos, dispatching many with surprise attacks, he was slowly being pushed into a corner. He had taken another bullet to the leg; his [Physique] effect dropped, and as he lost blood, his [Spirit] began to wane as well.

"Want to finish me? Then let's try!" Shiraishi weighed the scene and realized that if he kept hiding, things would only get worse.

*Confirm point allocation!*

Why worry about points now? Shiraishi suspected that even if he survived today, he might never make it into the National Police Agency or become one of the elite after such a mess!

[Combat], Lv10!
[Fighting], Lv10!

Shiraishi pushed his combat power to the max. Not only did his techniques fuse into a seamless whole, but his fighting instincts flared, and the decline in [Physique] and [Spirit] no longer hampered him.

*Ding!*

At that moment, something "unexpected" happened.

"Upgrade criteria met. [Physique] attribute Lv11 unlocked."

A voice that only Shiraishi could hear echoed. Shiraishi blinked: *Lv11?* He had never seen it before and assumed Level 10 was the cap. It seemed it wasn't that Lv11 didn't exist, but that it required specific conditions—like having [Combat] or [Fighting] at max level.

But... Shiraishi didn't have enough points. The remaining points were only enough to upgrade a Lv9 to Lv10.

"One million? The cost increased tenfold?" Shiraishi realized the jump to Lv11 wasn't a simple progression; it was ten times the cost. He was completely short on points... Wait? "Ten thousand points... for a 24-hour trial?"

A glimmer of hope. He found a "trial" option. In normal times, he wouldn't even consider it. He had only earned less than a million points in twenty-eight years. With only a little over 100,000 points left, spending them on a trial was insane.

But right now, Shiraishi wasn't joking—if he didn't use it, he was dead!

"Confirm trial..."

[Physique], Lv11!