Dimensional Kaguya Ōtsutsuki

By the time Kaguya arrived at the CCG base building, the crisp sound of gunfire had dwindled to sporadic bursts, and the clash of steel resounded intermittently. The battle had clearly reached its peak intensity. Most of the small fry had already been dealt with, leaving only the stronger combatants to continue the fight.

"Ah, what a low-level game," Kaguya muttered, leaning against the top of the building and gazing down at the chaotic battlefield below. Her tone carried a note of disappointment. "I was expecting some exciting battles, but it's just like kids playing house. What a letdown."

To ordinary people, the scene below would have been a nightmare of severed limbs, blood, and carnage. For the faint of heart, it might even have been enough to wet their pants in fear. But to Kaguya, it was nothing of note.

The fighting lacked technique. Most of the combatants were relying purely on instinct. While the CCG members had some training and demonstrated a degree of combat proficiency, the ghouls fought like wild animals, swinging their Kagune chaotically without any semblance of strategy. For Kaguya, the spectacle was painfully crude and amateurish.

Just as Kaguya was about to leave, her sharp eyes caught something of interest.

Not far from the chaotic melee, a group of figures were engaged in an intense battle. These individuals were clearly leagues above the rabble, their movements swift and precise. Sparks flew from their clashes, and the force of their blows was palpable even from a distance.

One of the combatants was a massive figure with rippling muscles and crimson Kagune sprouting from his back. His opponent was a tall, slender man with silver hair, his movements a blur of precision and speed: Kishou Arima, the infamous "White Reaper." It was no surprise that Arima was holding his own against two such powerful foes, his skill and tactics unmatched.

Arima darted left and right, dodging Tatara's strikes with fluid grace and delivering lightning-fast counterattacks with his Quinque. Tatara's attacks were relentless, his Kagune slicing through the air with deadly intent. Even with Arima's unparalleled skill, the battle was fiercely contested, their blows shaking the battlefield.

But Kaguya's focus wasn't on their clash. Her attention was drawn to a distant area within the CCG base. Having worked for the CCG in the past, she knew that area was where high-value ghoul prisoners were kept. While it was typically well-guarded, the ongoing chaos made her suspect something unusual was happening there.

"Boom!" A loud crash echoed through the air as a figure was sent flying like a cannonball, slamming into a wall with a sickening thud. Blood sprayed, and brain matter splattered across the surface. The limp body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

From the shadows stepped a towering figure with long hair and a sharp, chiseled face. His piercing eyes glowed with cold intensity, and his muscular frame radiated an intimidating presence. It was Matasaka Kamishiro, a key member of Aogiri Tree and an SS-rated ghoul. Yet he also had another, lesser-known identity—he was the adoptive father of Rize Kamishiro.

Matasaka's strength was formidable, not just because of his Kagune but also due to his mastery of martial arts. Even in the original story, he had overwhelmed Kaneki Ken in hand-to-hand combat, leaving him helpless.

"Damn it!" Koutarou Amon gritted his teeth as he struggled to his feet, gripping his Quinque tightly and glaring at Matasaka with fury in his eyes.

Amon had underestimated his opponent earlier, leading to a devastating ambush. His small squad had been utterly decimated—most of the investigators killed, and the few survivors severely wounded and unable to fight. Amon himself was barely holding on.

"Pathetic," Matasaka sneered. With a sharp stomp, he charged forward, his fist raised to strike.

Damn it.

Amon braced himself, his trembling arms gripping his Quinque tightly. As Matasaka approached, Amon swung his weapon in a wide arc, putting all his strength into the strike.

But just as the Quinque was about to hit its mark, Matasaka's figure blurred and vanished. The air where he had been standing moments ago was now empty.

"Too naive."

"So fast!"

Amon's pupils contracted, and a sense of impending doom surged in his mind. He wanted to turn and defend himself, but it was already too late.

A figure suddenly appeared before him. With a sweep of his arm, a massive fist materialized in front of Amon, smashing down hard on his Quinque.

Damn it.

As this thought flashed through Amon's mind, an immense force suddenly transmitted through his Quinque. With a resounding "boom," the impact tore his palm, sending blood splattering.

The Quinque nearly flew out of his grasp, and Amon himself was violently flung backward.

But it wasn't over yet.

Matasaka moved like a predator, covering the distance in a flash with long, powerful strides.

"Haah!"

With a loud shout, Matasaka's muscled fist rocketed forward and struck Amon's abdomen with brutal force.

"Urgh!"

Amon's eyes bulged as his stomach caved under the blow, blood spurting uncontrollably from his throat. His body flew like a kite with a broken string, slamming into a nearby wall with a sickening crash.

With a sharp "crack," Amon's Quinque, Doujima—the crimson rod he had been wielding—fell to the ground in shattered fragments.

Matasaka's overwhelming strength was terrifying.

"Foolish." Matasaka snorted disdainfully, turning his back and preparing to leave.

"W-wait," a voice croaked behind him.

"Hm?"

The voice made Matasaka turn around, his sharp eyes narrowing.

Amon, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, clutching his abdomen, was struggling to his feet with the support of the wall. Gritting his teeth, he rasped, "It's not over yet."

"Not over?" A cruel glint appeared in Matasaka's piercing eyes as he clenched his fists.

"As long as I stand," Amon forced himself upright with great effort, teeth clenched in determination, "you won't get past me."

"Naive," Matasaka sneered coldly. "If you wish for your life to end, I shall grant you that wish."

As the words fell from his lips, Matasaka stepped forward, launching himself at Amon with astonishing speed.

"Is this the end?"

As Matasaka charged toward him, Amon clenched his fists, his mind filled with thoughts of his mentor and partner, Mado Kureo, now lying like a lifeless husk in a hospital bed. Gritting his teeth, Amon couldn't suppress his frustration.

But what could he do?

He was no match for Matasaka. Even if a Special Class Investigator were present, there was no guarantee they could defeat him. And right now, the Special Classes were occupied elsewhere, unable to lend their strength here.

Damn it.

"It's over," Matasaka growled, his voice low. With a powerful sweep of his arm, his fist surged forward, carrying a sharp, lethal wind aimed directly at Amon.

Amon's pupils contracted sharply.

"Calling it over now is a bit premature," a crisp, melodic voice suddenly rang out.

In that instant, countless crimson lights descended from the sky like a shower of stars.

"What?" Matasaka 's eyes widened.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A series of violent explosions echoed, sending shockwaves rippling outward and stirring up a dense cloud of dust. Amon instinctively covered his mouth, coughing violently as the debris filled the air.

When the dust cleared, Matasaka's figure emerged from the haze.

"This is..."

Amon's eyes widened in shock as he stared, his expression disbelieving.

Matasaka's body was covered in crimson arrows, so densely packed they made him resemble a porcupine. His entire body was pierced through, with dark red blood trickling slowly down the shafts of the arrows.

"This can't be possible."

Amon's voice was tinged with disbelief. Even anti-ghoul Barrett rounds couldn't pierce Kisho's skin, yet these arrows had inflicted such devastating damage.

Suddenly, a thought struck him, and Amon turned his gaze upward. On a distant platform stood a breathtakingly beautiful black-haired girl, holding a bow taller than herself. She smiled down at the scene below with an air of amusement.

"Sorry for interrupting your meal," she called out, her voice carrying a teasing tone. "Should I have let you finish devouring this idiot first? Though I hear idiocy is contagious—better not risk turning into a dimwit yourself."

Amon's lips twitched. She looked so elegant, yet her words were sharp as knives. Not cute at all.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the girl said, her expression unrepentant. "I must've accidentally let the truth slip out." Her face carried a playful grin that made her seem almost insufferable.

Stepping to the edge of the platform, she waved cheerfully to those below.

"Wait... is she planning to—" Amon felt a chill run down his spine, a bad premonition forming.

Sure enough, the girl lightly tapped the platform with her toes and leapt off, directly descending from the height of several dozen meters.

"Are you insane?" Amon yelled, his voice laced with urgency. Ignoring his injuries, he dragged himself toward the spot where she was about to land, running with all his might.

Thud.

A dull sound echoed as she hit the ground.

"Ah!"

"Ugh."

Kaguya felt something soft beneath her and looked down. At some point, Amon had ended up beneath her, flattened by her impact, and was now foaming at the mouth. She quickly got up from him.

"As expected of an idiot," Kaguya sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead with resignation. "Don't you know how dangerous it is to be under falling objects?"

"You moron, you're the one who jumped down!" Amon snapped, his voice filled with frustration.

"That's true," Kaguya said, turning to him and giving him a disdainful glance. "But do you think any normal person would jump from a platform dozens of meters high?"

"Are you saying you're not normal?" Amon shouted back.

"Childish," Kaguya replied, shaking her head and wagging her finger at him dismissively. "I'm just an ordinary person, but I'm not like you—someone who only knows some half-baked moves."

"Half-baked?" Amon's face turned red with frustration. For the first time, he regretted saving this sharp-tongued, snarky girl.

"If you don't want to die, I'd suggest ducking," Kaguya said suddenly.

"What?" Amon asked, confused.

He didn't have to wait long to understand. Kaguya hooked her finger on her bowstring and pulled it back, causing a crimson arrow to materialize on the string. With a casual release, the arrow shot forth, streaking through the air like a fiery comet—heading straight for Amon.

Amon's pupils shrank. Instinctively, he dropped to a crouch, the crimson arrow whizzing past his head. He could feel the searing heat it radiated as it passed.

"Hey, are you trying to kill me?!" Amon shouted angrily.

"Ah, you didn't die?" Kaguya said, sounding almost disappointed. "What a shame."

"You—!" Amon was about to lash out but froze mid-sentence. A realization hit him, and he whipped his head around.

Standing just behind him, a tall man was poised to strike, his massive fist mere inches from the back of Amon's head.

Could it be...?

Amon turned back toward Kaguya, staring at her in disbelief. Was it her?

Kaguya ignored his stunned expression, her tone leisurely as she said, "If you don't want to die, step aside. This is a fight for adults—children shouldn't interfere."

What does she mean...?

Amon turned again just as Matasaka made his move.

"I didn't expect to encounter someone so interesting. This is quite a surprise," said Matasaka, his voice low and gravelly as he stood up. His body, riddled with gruesome wounds, seemed unfazed as he shook his head and spoke. "You've piqued my curiosity."

As he spoke, the gaping wounds on his body began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye. In mere moments, they had completely closed, leaving no trace.

Amon stared at Matasaka in disbelief. What terrifying regenerative power! Such capabilities were exceedingly rare even among ghouls, explaining why Kisho held an SS rank among their kind.

Engaging him in combat truly revealed the full extent of his horrifying strength.

While Amon stood frozen, Kaguya casually walked up to Matasaka. With a polite smile, she said, "Excuse me, sir. If it's alright with you, may I beat you to death?"

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