Chapter 100: The Astartes Surgery
"Hikigaya-senpai, it has been a long time."
Before Hikigaya Hachiman stood a sorcerer in the form of a wooden puppet, wearing the uniform of the Kyoto Jujutsu High.
"If it isn't Ultimate Mechamaru. Long time no see."
The thing before him, looking like a strange cosplay prop, was a puppet created by Muta Kokichi's technique, [Puppet Manipulation]. Even walking openly in public, Mechamaru looked like someone wearing an odd mask, drawing little suspicion.
Hachiman possessed all the data on this sorcerer; Kokichi was a carrier of a Heavenly Restriction.
Kokichi possessed immense cursed energy, but in exchange, his body was incredibly fragile—even faint moonlight could burn his skin. Consequently, he had to live in a sterile room. He was a student at Kyoto Jujutsu High, in the same year as the heir Hachiman had previously "usurped" from the Kamo clan.
The Mechamaru before him was a consumable; Kokichi could control dozens of them at once, though he usually focused on one for high-precision combat.
Their relationship was decent. Hachiman didn't harbor ill will toward him; in his eyes, anyone who fought xenos like Cursed Spirits was a brother-in-arms.
"Why are you here?" Hachiman asked. They were on the outskirts of Shuchiin Academy. Kyoto students rarely ventured this deep into Tokyo Jujutsu High's territory.
Mechamaru sighed.
"Because of the proposal the Yotsuba family made to the Association yesterday. They requested more powerful sorcerers to protect their key interests."
Shuchiin was a Shinomiya property; the chairman was one of Shinomiya Kaguya's brother. Fearing an unusual sense of crisis, the family had sought the Association's protection.
"I'm in charge of this area for a month," Mechamaru explained. He found it odd that the "old farts" in the directorate had agreed to such a request. Usually, a Grade 3 sorcerer would suffice for a stable area like this, not a semi-Grade 1 like himself. They only deployed heavy hitters to high-desire areas like Ikebukuro or Ginza.
Unknown to him, the Association had granted the request purely out of respect for Hachiman's proximity. In terms of nepotism, the Shinomiya family had won big.
Seeing Mechamaru gave Hachiman an idea for his daemon-detection network.
"I have a favor to ask."
"Anything I can do, I will," Mechamaru replied readily.
"Can you build me a large number of 'Mini-Mechamaru'?" Hachiman asked. These would be the size of buttons, capable of high-speed alarm response and movement.
Hachiman then refined the idea: instead of just small drones, they could build a massive base station—a signal tower. It would monitor the entire city using Hachiman's carved detection runes, creating a real-time early warning system for xenos or curses.
It would eliminate the need for the "Windows" (low-level observers) to do physical scouting, vastly improving efficiency.
Mechamaru's technique was essentially a small arms factory. "I can have a prototype ready by this afternoon," he said confidently.
"I also have something to ask you," Mechamaru said, his voice becoming heavy. "Hikigaya-senpai... I want to undergo that surgery you mentioned."
"Even with a 99.99% mortality rate?" Hachiman asked.
"Even with a 0.01% hope. I'm tired of living like a rat in the dark, watching other people's happiness through the cracks of a puppet's eyes. Continuing like this is worse than death."
Hachiman nodded. He had mentioned the Astartes Surgery to Kokichi before. It was the technology developed by the Emperor to transform mortals into Space Marines through the implantation of 19 specialized organs.
Hachiman had performed this surgery on 120 Blood Angels recruits in his past life; 90 had died on the table. The success rate plummeted if the candidate was older than fifteen. However, Kokichi was a unique case because of his Heavenly Restriction.
Kokichi's body was a wreck—missing a right arm, both legs below the knee, paralyzed from the waist down, and lacking skin.
To an Astartes, these would be considered "light wounds" that wouldn't even necessitate leaving the front lines. The surgery's Ossmodula (bone reinforcement) and Black Carapace could turn this "skinny dog" into a 2.5-meter-tall giant.
Hachiman could replicate the organs because the path had been paved by a "genius" of the Kamo clan: Kamo Noritoshi, the most evil sorcerer in history.
Noritoshi had conducted countless human experiments on flesh and cursed energy, resulting in the Cursed Womb: Death Paintings. While the clan viewed him as a disgrace, they had kept his research.
Hachiman, with his advanced Imperial medical knowledge, could actually understand and apply those notes.
"If you can find a Cursed Spirit or Curse User whose ability affects flesh mutation, your success rate will increase significantly," Hachiman noted.
"Find one alive and bring it to me."
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By the afternoon, Mechamaru had produced the prototype: a large, wooden structure the size of a small car, bristling with antennas. Hachiman installed his custom runes designed to detect Chaos energy.
"Red... is that 'safe'?" Kokichi's main body asked, noticing a red blip on the crude radar screen.
"There," Mechamaru pointed to specific coordinates. Hachiman's eyes sharpened.
On the balcony of a high-rise building—an area strictly forbidden to the public—the door stood wide open. The stench of blood was thick. Five security guards were pinned to the wall by an invisible force, their white shirts soaked red. They were alive, but their faces were contorted in agony.
A blonde man in a black hood, his face covered in terrifying tattoos, stood there.
A black spear protruded from his waist, dripping dark blood. He watched Nanako and Mimiko on a distant playground through binoculars.
"Why... why?!" he hissed, his face twisting.
"Why do you get to live so well while our devout believers are slaughtered?"
In a fit of madness, he jammed his thumb into his own temple, stirring his brains until a bloody hole appeared. He shivered with a sick pleasure. Simultaneously, the five guards on the wall screamed in agony as identical bloody holes appeared in their temples. Pain was being shared.
"So good... Pain is the essence of life," the man moaned.
"Ten years. The blood feud for the destruction of our branch... the Daisen Cult will repay it a thousandfold."
Nanako and Mimiko had been the catalysts for Geto Suguru's defection. Years ago, Geto had slaughtered a village that was mistreating the girls. It turned out that village was a logistics branch of the Daisen Cult, an extremist sect that worshipped sacrifice and pain.
Now, hearing that the current leader of the Pan-Star Religious Group was heavily injured, they saw their chance for revenge.
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