what if I'm an undead! then so what?-Chapter 53: A brief talk about Biology

Expanded Scene Word Count: 1,740 words

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On the dimly lit streets of Shinjuku, the city buzzed with its usual nightlife, neon signs flickering above shops and traffic lights casting a rhythmic glow on the asphalt below. Amid the chaos, a single man could be seen walking alone, his figure tall and composed, exuding a strange calmness in contrast to the hustle of the city. A trail of smoke followed his lips with every puff of his cigarette, curling in the cold air like wisps of phantom mist. His long black coat flared slightly as he walked, boots tapping a steady rhythm on the pavement, his expression relaxed as he enjoyed his solitary night stroll.

His attention, however, was suddenly pulled elsewhere. It was as if an unseen force whispered into his ears. His gaze shifted, locking onto a two-story building tucked between other structures, but seemingly out of place. His brows furrowed slightly as he adjusted the thin glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with two fingers to get a better view. A sharp glint reflected from the lens. Something was wrong with that house.

An unusual chill lingered in the air, like the breath of the dead, and an eerie pressure radiated from the building that made the atmosphere unnaturally heavy. The hairs on his neck stood up, alerting him of the abnormality. Then, as if responding to an unseen signal, his long black hair began to sway gently in a wind that hadn’t touched the rest of the street.

Slowly, his body began to rise. Without moving a muscle, he levitated upward, feet leaving the ground silently, his figure ascending like a ghost through the night. The smoke from his cigarette drifted behind him in a lazy spiral. He came to a stop near the top of the building, positioning himself right outside one of the windows. He stood there in midair, peering inside with a discerning gaze.

"Isn’t this the house of that brat who’s always been obsessed with the Supernaturals?" the man mused to himself in a calm, detached tone. His name was Mugen, and this building belonged to one of his more curious students. A hint of amusement crept onto his face, but it was fleeting, replaced by a colder expression. Perhaps the student who had been so adamant about discovering the truth of the supernatural world had finally encountered it firsthand.

But this wasn’t something to be pleased about. There was no triumph in such a fate.

With a single gesture, he placed his hand on the window, and the glass creaked under his touch before sliding open. No resistance. It was as if the building itself had accepted his presence. In the next moment, he floated silently into the room.

The sight that met him was far beyond strange—it was nightmarish.

Inside the room, blood was everywhere. Stains smeared across the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. It was a slaughterhouse. Multiple corpses lay strewn about in grotesque poses, dissected like meat on a butcher’s table. Limbs were twisted at impossible angles, and the bodies were mutilated to such an extent they were hardly recognizable as human anymore.

And yet, amidst the carnage, one body remained relatively intact. There was blood, yes, but only from the nose. No signs of deep injury or laceration. Just a boy lying unconscious in the center of the room.

Upon closer inspection, Mugen confirmed his suspicion—it was Kirito, one of his students. Just as he had guessed. The one obsessed with the supernatural had indeed stumbled into something far beyond his understanding. What was more alarming was the fact that he was the only one who had survived whatever horrific event had unfolded here.

Mugen’s eyes fell upon the glowing magic circle etched into the ground. It pulsed faintly with residual energy. Its shape and complexity were enough to pique his curiosity. Perhaps this was the root of everything that had occurred here. He narrowed his eyes, analyzing its symbols. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Without a word, he retrieved his phone and began capturing a series of images of the magic circle. He needed a record—just in case he decided to investigate further.

Despite the bloodbath, he could sense something deeper. Whoever had orchestrated this wasn’t some reckless amateur. The handiwork was precise, calculated. He could feel the residual traces of an entity—powerful and sharp like the edge of a blade pressed against the spine. It stirred something inside him, not fear, but recognition. A warning.

But Mugen was not someone who feared monsters. He could be called one himself.

Wordlessly, he bent down and lifted Kirito, hoisting him gently over his shoulder. With a faint flicker of energy, his body dissolved from the room, vanishing into the cold air.

Silence returned. Absolute and suffocating. The room was left with only the corpses, blood, and a lingering air of dread.

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Meanwhile, across Tokyo in the bustling district of Shibuya, another scene was unfolding. Masaru had arrived at his destination—the residence of the Tsukigami family. He stood now before the estate’s gates, a towering structure that gave off an imposing aura.

Inside, he was quickly met by two figures. One was the seasoned swordsman Shougo Kuragane, and the other, Vaelion—a Ryukar whose very presence radiated a primal force, his form regal, and his posture unshakable. Despite the tension in the air, the old man smiled warmly at the sight of Masaru, clearly pleased by his arrival. In contrast, Vaelion’s expression remained unreadable, only a proud glint in his eyes betraying his thoughts.

"So you were the one who managed to land the final blow, huh?" Vaelion said, folding his arms across his chest, his voice brimming with confidence and superiority. "That’s what I’ve heard."

"Even I’m not really sure myself," Masaru replied, laughing nervously as he scratched the back of his head. The last thing he wanted was to provoke this actual dragon standing before him.

"Hmph!" Vaelion scoffed. "Just know that it was only because of my earlier attack that the thing was weakened in the first place. Not to mention I held back! If I’d gone all out, the entire arena would’ve been reduced to rubble."

Masaru nodded exaggeratedly, humoring him with sarcastic agreement. "Right, right, of course. You definitely held back."

"There’s no need for you boys to squabble over credit," Shougo interjected with a chuckle. "Both of you are quite something. To be honest, you’re already far beyond me. The human body... its limitations are an unavoidable reality."

"I don’t know if I can agree with that," Masaru responded sincerely. "You’re only held back by your weapon, right? And I bet... if you could actually see—" He stopped mid-sentence, quickly covering his mouth. His words had slipped out without thinking.

Vaelion, however, burst out laughing, his chuckle deep and almost mocking. "What made you think the old man’s blind?"

Masaru blinked, clearly confused. The tension in the air shifted.

To everyone’s surprise, Shougo laughed as well. Then, calmly, he reached up to his face and untied the cloth covering his eyes, revealing a pair of perfectly healthy, clear, and piercing eyes.

"My sight works just fine," he said matter-of-factly. Then, without further explanation, he tied the blindfold back on, leaving Masaru even more puzzled than before.

"Then... why wear the blindfold?" Masaru asked, clearly bewildered.

Shougo sighed deeply, clearly reluctant to explain. But before he could respond, a voice echoed sharply through the room.

"I assume you’ve heard of cells?" The question cut through the air like a scalpel.

It was Ryouji Daikin, one of the VIPs from the Solstice Spring event. Masaru hadn’t even noticed him arrive.

"Cells?" Masaru repeated, puzzled. He was a scholar at one of the top-ranking academies in Asia, and yet the way Ryouji asked the question made him uncertain if the man was referring to basic biology—or something else entirely.

"Cells," Ryouji repeated. "They’re the basic structural, functional, and biological units of all living organisms. The smallest units capable of life processes like metabolism, growth, reproduction, and response to stimuli."

He continued speaking with authority, "Structurally, a cell is a membrane-bound unit that contains the molecular machinery of life. It’s enclosed by a plasma membrane, which separates its inner environment from the outside, regulating everything that comes in and out. Also, there are several types of ce—"

"—That’s enough!!" all three others shouted in unison, their heads spinning from the avalanche of information.

Ryouji sighed dramatically. "Fine, I’ll skip the lesson. But here’s what matters. Cells can mutate. That’s the key difference between humans and Supernaturals."

Masaru’s eyes lit up. "Yes! Of course! There are endogenous and exogenous mutations—endogenous being caused by replication errors, spontaneous chemical changes like deamination or depurination, even ROS and jumping genes! And exogenous—"

"Enough already!!" Vaelion exploded, his frustration tangible as a fume practically hissed from his scalp. "You sound like a damn textbook!"

Ryouji raised his hand for silence. "Anyway. The point is—Supernaturals have cellular mutations. Like werewolves, for instance—their cells allow them to shift forms. Science hasn’t approved it officially, but it’s the truth."

He turned toward Shougo. "And a human can have a mutation too. Like Mr. Kuragane. His eyes—they aren’t normal. Maybe the mutation has a drawback? Maybe he blindfolds them to avoid strain or danger?"

Shougo gave a weary chuckle. "I blindfold them because they drain my mental energy. I’m seeking a weapon that can sync with them—nullify the drawback, enhance the effect."

His voice turned firm. He wouldn’t share more.

Everyone fell silent, understanding that some secrets were better left unspoken.