Click—
The sound of a turning hand.
Consciousness returned from the void.
Opening his eyes, Takakai saw the crimson sky and the silent city once more.
Back in the Blood City again?
His memories were fragmented—only recalling his previous realization that memory wasn't preserved between resets, his desperate wish for an ability, and being devoured by Chiyo's Great Maw Flowers after resetting.
The watch's hand had pointed to 4 last time.
Yet now, glancing down, the needle rested firmly on 5.
So I died again?
Another death without retained memories meant Chiyo's core grudge had claimed him once more. Three deaths to this dungeon now—surpassing even Alice's two kills. Impressively brutal.
Click—
The hand advanced again.
From 5 to 6—halfway through the watch's reserves.
Memories of the previous loop flooded in: breaking past the opening kill, delving into Shirasawa Elementary's layered depths, Kaguya's transformation into a specter...
And Hayasaka's kiss.
"So Kaguya ot early last time. Can't let them follow me into the deep layers—too dangerous when separated. The surface's cognitive blocks are risky, but at least survivable. Though the Butcher's still a problem... wonder if stealing his corpse affects the surface version..."
Takakai sighed, rubbing his temples.
Plenty of progress, but the core grudge remained elusive.
And then there was...
"Huh. Hayasaka actually kissed me. That pudding-like softness, huh?"
The sensation lingered vividly despite its brevity. He wouldn't mind reliving it—repeatedly.
Will she remember this reset?
Memory retention required profound mutual bonds—like Maki and Chika's life-risking devotion. Hayasaka, while helpful, had been more of a protected bystander. Did her feelings run deep enough? Did his?
No point overthinking. She made the move—I'm not letting go. That's just who I am.
The final memory arrived:
The orphanage. Finding Chiyo.
Then—
One clean slash.
Head separated from shoulders in an instant.
Through the watch's playback, Takakai relived the decapitation in first-person—his vision spinning as his skull hit the floor alongside Hayasaka's and Old Guo's.
Painless. A good death.
Chiyo's technique was flawless—a masterstroke worthy of a sword saint.
Might as well rename her Sasaki Kojiro.
Jokes aside, the abrupt kill was a stark warning:
No deception tolerated.
Not in action, not in thought. Any divergence between intent and expression triggered instant annihilation.
Damn kid... how many times were you betrayed to develop this BS filter?
Genuine selflessness was impossible for him. This rule demanded sainthood—perfection even xusheng, Howard, and hirano might fail.
Attempting loopholes felt equally doomed—the moment such thoughts arose, punishment would escalate.
So... brutal honesty?
My true desire?
To pummel the brat, resolve her grudge, claim new blessings, empower Kaguya and Hayasaka, then go home. Oh, and thrash KP too—though that might require postponing until stronger.
Yeah, that approach won't work either.
Last loop, mentioning the Butcher's corpse made her pause. Maybe that was the angle?
But KP's interference loomed—who knew what fresh hell awaited this reset?
"Tch. Overplanning's pointless. Adapt in the moment," Takakai concluded, standing in the empty plaza.
The watch's hand had crossed the halfway mark.
With each reset consuming two ticks (one for the reset, one to restore memories), only three attempts remained.
Can I do this?
The odds seemed insurmountable.
Yet surrender wasn't an option.
Dong—
The tolling bell heralded the reset's approach.
Objects rained from the sky:
The Butcher's cleaver, apron, and corpse.
Unsigned expulsion notices.
A hairpin—likely Chiyo's secondary grudge item.
Then—
The faceless heads. The blood dolls. The scalpels.
Every Twilight-grade grudge item sold to Kojiro now forcibly reclaimed through the watch's power.
Useless in a Crimson Moon dungeon's presence, but perhaps situationally helpful. With resets dwindling, Takakai could no longer afford restraint—chiyo's displeasure be damned.
The Butcher's corpse being a grudge item is unexpected. Two non-core items from one specter? Prolific little gremlin.
Dong—
The second bell rang.
The world began fading.
Takakai turned toward the inferno's writhing figures—sinners eternally purged—wondering how many more would join them.
Then he faced the emerging silhouettes:
Shijou Maki. Fujiwara Chika. Constants across resets.
Kitarie, fused with the Blood City, required no effort to remember.
And—
A third, fainter figure.
Back turned. Hayasaka Ai.
"Guess my affection's cheap—one kiss and I'm hooked. How trashy," Takakai mused without regret.
He strode forward and grasped the blurred girl's hand.
Click—
The watch's hand advanced to 7.
Ill-advised? Perhaps.
But he refused to let this connection vanish into the reset's abyss.
"Let's settle everything this time."
Dong—
The third bell swallowed the world.
Darkness.
Then—
The iron tang of blood.
Takakai's eyes snapped open—
—not to the dingy apartment, but to a crimson-drenched hallway piled with mutilated corpses.
[Do you like it, sensei?]
Chiyo's giggle echoed behind him.
Whirling around, Takakai saw the blood-soaked girl—
—and the gaping maw of a spectral horror hurtling from the ceiling toward his face.