Utaha sat up from the tub, water sliding off her smooth skin. She looked in the mirror at her face—still beautiful despite the fatigue—and the two faint scars that were now almost invisible but constantly reminded her of her current situation.
Drying her body and changing into comfortable pajamas, Utaha threw herself onto her soft bed.
Extreme exhaustion acted like the heaviest of curtains, dragging Utaha's consciousness into a boundless darkness. Every cell in her body screamed for rest, and the mental strings that had been taut all day finally snapped.
She thought she would fall into a dreamless abyss, or at least some relatively 'normal' nightmares about deadlines.
However, when her 'consciousness' coalesced again, she didn't feel the familiar softness of her bed. Instead, she felt something cold, viscous, and extremely unpleasant beneath her feet. A thick, nauseating smell of iron rust mixed with an indescribable scent of decay forced its way into her nose, nearly suffocating her.
She snapped her eyes 'open'.
And then, she saw hell.
Beneath her feet was an endless, slowly flowing sea of dark red blood. The thick blood reached past her ankles, icy and bone-chilling.
As far as the eye could see, countless skeletons of various shapes floated and piled up on the sea of blood. There were human bones, those of giant beasts, and many distorted, unrecognizable skeletons that pierced the surface of the blood sea like reefs, forming a forest of despair and death.
At the end of this mountain of corpses and sea of blood, skeletons were piled into a towering peak that made one tremble at the sight. The top of the peak was not a sharp summit, but a throne forcibly twisted and fused from countless huge, hideous skulls and thick spinal columns.
Upon the throne, a figure leaned back lazily. It was a tall man with striking short pink hair that flared out wildly like burning flames. Most terrifying of all, he had four arms covered in dark, eerie markings, currently resting casually on the throne's armrests and back.
One of his faces, the only one Utaha could see, bore a cynical, mocking expression, eyes closed as if he were taking a nap.
Just by sitting there quietly, a nearly tangible aura of tyranny and evil, permeated the entire space like an invisible tide, pressing down until Utaha could barely breathe.
Is this... Sukuna's true form? Is this the "Domain" deep within his consciousness?
Utaha felt her soul trembling. She wanted to scream, but found her throat as if constricted, unable to make a sound. She wanted to flee, but her feet were as if nailed to these bone reefs in the sea of blood, unable to move.
At that moment, the existence on the throne seemed to sense this uninvited "guest" and his closed eyes slowly opened.
Four crimson eyes turned toward Utaha simultaneously.
That gaze was not sharp, but a pure, condescending scrutiny, as if looking at a trivial little toy that had accidentally wandered in.
Along with the descent of that gaze, the terrifying pressure instantly intensified several times over, crashing toward Utaha's tiny conscious form.
"Oh?"
A deep, magnetic voice rang out, carrying a hint of drowsiness as if he had just woken up, yet containing a bone-chilling playfulness.
"Instead of sleeping peacefully in your den of comfort, why have you come to my junkyard?"
It was Sukuna!
Using his original voice!
Utaha's whole body was stiff and even the act of gulping became incredibly difficult. She looked at Sukuna's four red pupils observing her with interest and felt like a frog being stared down by a venomous snake.
Sukuna seemed to "appreciate" Utaha's terrified state. His lips curled into a malicious arc, and one of his four arms waved casually.
"Tsk, it seems you're scared witless. We can't have a proper chat in this state."
With his nonchalant movement, the entire world of corpses and blood began to violently twist, deform, and dissipate, like a pencil drawing being rubbed away by an eraser.
The thick sea of blood beneath Utaha's feet instantly receded, turning into a smooth, mirror-like dark wooden floor. The endless skeletons around her vanished without a trace, replaced by elegant tatami walls, hanging landscape scrolls, and a rosewood low table emitting a faint, delicate fragrance. The oppressive blood-colored sky overhead also became a wooden ceiling carved with exquisite patterns, from which hung a paper lantern emitting a soft glow.
In just an instant, that peerlessly terrifying domain of death had turned into a classical tea room filled with ancient charm, peace, and tranquility.
Utaha stood frozen on the spot, still wearing the pajamas she had gone to sleep in.
The earth-shattering change in environment left her brain completely unable to process this massive amount of information.
One second it was an Asura's slaughterhouse, the next it was an elegant tea room?
This intense contrast made her feel more eerie and uneasy than staying in the sea of blood.
Sukuna's true form blurred for a moment. In the next instant, he turned into the more familiar, slightly illusory projection of "two faces and four arms" that resided on her face, and sat down across from her on both sides of the tea table.
"Sit."
Sukuna gestured with his chin toward the cushion in front of Utaha, his tone carrying an unquestionable command.
Utaha sat down stiffly and cautiously, almost out of instinct, her hands placed nervously on her joined knees. Her eyes scanned this seemingly normal yet eerily strange tea room with suspicion and uncertainty.
Sukuna seemed quite familiar with the way of tea. He fluidly lifted a small red clay teapot, pouring boiling tea into a very simple-looking ceramic teacup, then gently pushed it in front of Utaha.
"Calm your nerves." He said.
His tone was flat, but in those crimson eyes flickered a gleam of expectation, as if a prank had succeeded.
Utaha looked at the dark brown liquid before her, which emitted a rich tea aroma, then looked at Sukuna's unreadable face. She did indeed need something to steady her heart, which was nearly jumping out of her chest.
After a moment of hesitation, she reached out a slightly trembling hand and picked up the still-hot teacup. The warmth from the cup's surface allowed her to regain a bit of a sense of reality. She closed her eyes and, as if facing death, brought the cup to her lips and took a careful sip.
"Pfft... Cough! Cough!"
As soon as the tea entered her mouth, an indescribable, extreme impact, instantly exploded on her taste buds.
Bitter!
It was too bitter!
It was so bitter her tongue went numb, and tears nearly shot out.
"Haha... Hahahaha!"
Opposite her, Sukuna burst into a fit of laughter. He laughed so hard he leaned back and forth, his four arms even slapping the tatami exaggeratedly.
"The strongest tea. Well, how does it taste? It refreshes the mind and cures insomnia. Hahahaha!"