"What you're seeing now is the full combat equipment currently adopted by the Special Mobile Unit of the Riot Police Force."
Inside the primary conference room of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, an expert named Okamoto stood in front of a projection screen, dressed neatly in a blue suit.
He addressed Superintendent Matsumoto and several senior officers, presenting detailed footage and diagrams.
"This unit consists of twenty elite members selected from prefectures across the country," Okamoto explained, adjusting his glasses as he switched slides. "Each member must be at least 178 centimeters tall and weigh no less than 80 kilograms. During the four hundred day special training period, anyone whose weight drops below that threshold is immediately reassigned."
The screen changed to a close up of a helmet schematic.
"The mobile helmet is constructed from specialized FRP materials. It weighs only one third of standard riot equipment, yet offers five times the compressive resistance."
He continued calmly, gaining confidence as he spoke.
"All vital areas are protected by the same reinforced material. Additionally, the unit is equipped with the latest impact projectile launcher. It fires six spherical steel rounds, each weighing eight hundred grams, with a launch velocity of forty seven meters per second."
As the presentation went on, Okamoto's enthusiasm grew.
"You can imagine the stopping power," he said. "It's comparable to being struck at close range by a professional baseball swing."
"Enough."
Superintendent Matsumoto slammed his palm onto the table, veins bulging on his forehead.
The room froze.
Okamoto's hand hovered in the air, the silence so thick that even breathing sounded loud.
"The issue," Matsumoto said coldly, "is that we deployed six of these so called elites."
"And yet," his voice sharpened, "we couldn't subdue a single man."
"This is Spec's third escape. For him, our detention center might as well be his own home."
He struck the table again, his shoulders trembling, sweat forming across his brow.
"Is this really the world renowned Tokyo Metropolitan Police detention system?"
Okamoto lowered his head, saying nothing.
"Show me the footage," Matsumoto ordered. "Show me how the Riot Special Mobile Unit was suppressed by Spec."
"Yes, sir."
The screen switched to surveillance footage.
Six fully armed riot officers surrounded a towering bald man in a narrow corridor.
In the next instant, one officer was killed, his neck snapped effortlessly.
Five others opened fire with their impact launchers, steel projectiles hammering into Spec.
They did nothing.
Spec moved like lightning, weaving through them with inhuman speed. Each strike ended a life.
Within seconds, the corridor was silent, bodies scattered across the floor.
The footage ended.
No one spoke.
Fear crept into every face in the room.
That level of physical power could not be explained by human standards.
Matsumoto finally broke the silence.
"If he comes back again," he said slowly, "I don't care how extreme it sounds."
"Prepare machine guns."
"Superintendent!"
A police officer burst into the room, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
"Spec has been found!"
Matsumoto shot to his feet, the chair scraping loudly behind him.
"Where? Any casualties?"
"No," the officer replied quickly, shaking his head. "There are no casualties."
"The location is Central Park. A civilian reported being attacked by a large man, suspected to be Spec."
"We arrived immediately. The suspect was confirmed to be Spec and…"
"He's already unconscious."
The room erupted.
"Unconscious?" Matsumoto demanded, stepping closer. "Who did this?"
"Based on the scene," the officer said cautiously, "it appears he was knocked out by a single individual."
"And Spec is severely injured. Seven broken ribs, multiple fractures, and internal bleeding."
Shock rippled through the room.
Matsumoto stared at him in disbelief.
"You're telling me someone nearly killed that monster?"
"Yes," the officer hesitated. "We identified the person who made the report."
"It's a high school student."
The room went silent again.
"A high school student?" Matsumoto repeated.
"Yes, sir," the officer said, swallowing hard. "His name is Sol Mirek. A transfer student currently enrolled at Tokyo Den High School."
He produced a USB drive.
"We retrieved nearby surveillance footage."
Matsumoto inserted the drive.
The screen showed a grainy image.
A young man in black training clothes faced Spec, whose massive frame towered over him.
What followed stunned everyone.
Sol Mirek moved faster than the camera could properly capture. Each strike shattered bone. Spec was utterly overwhelmed, unable to land a meaningful blow.
Not a single drop of blood appeared on Sol.
When Spec unleashed his ultimate technique, Breathless Barrage, the same technique that once destroyed the Statue of Liberty, Sol endured it calmly.
Then he used it himself.
Even better.
"Is he copying techniques in real time?" an officer whispered.
Matsumoto felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He remembered.
Two days ago, another death row inmate, Dorian, had been hospitalized after being defeated by a Shinshinkai fighter with the same name.
The room exchanged stunned looks.
This student was hunting monsters.
"Investigate everything," Matsumoto ordered immediately.
"I want a full report on Sol Mirek. Background, records, habits, everything."
"If there are no criminal flags…"
His voice hardened.
"Bring him in as an advisor to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Special Operations Unit."