"Bastard!"
Chou Fei knew things had gone south. He hiked up the hem of his kimono and struck first.
CLANG—
The stillness of the moonlit night was torn apart.
Rock shattered. Trees snapped. Dirt was flung skyward. Wherever the guitar's sound waves passed, everything crumbled, ground to powder by the Cursed Energy wrapped inside them.
Shigemo sidestepped—slipping through a gap in the waves with impossible precision. The blasts landed to either side of him, kicking up a wall of pressure that sent his long hair streaming.
That excited, gleeful expression never left his face. Shigemo slid forward, dragging the long tachi behind him, weaving through the sound waves.
Every time, he threaded the needle. Slipping through gaps that shouldn't have existed—like a minnow darting through rapids.
In the span of a few breaths, Shigemo was at close range. He pivoted, planted his feet, and the tachi carved a wide semicircle through the air, arcing toward Chou Fei's neck.
CRACK.
The sound of a guitar splintering apart. Chou Fei had instinctively raised the instrument to shield the right side of his face. That reflex saved his life.
The tachi bit deep into the guitar's body and stuck there, trembling, black Cursed Energy rippling along the blade.
Something's wrong. Something's very wrong...
Chou Fei stared at the teenager before him and finally identified what was off:
His luck was impossibly good. He'd dodged every single attack.
So good it was as if luck itself didn't exist.
"My Innate Technique is Miracle Accumulation. I store up the little miracles from daily life and spend them in combat."
Revealing One's Hand. Power amplified.
"And my absolute favorite thing to do is bully the weak. It's just so much fun!"
WHAM.
Shigemo's kick connected dead-center with Chou Fei's abdomen. The Cursed Energy behind it tore into his organs. Chou Fei's body curled inward, eyes rolling upward.
Another kick.
Then—a slash.
The tachi cleaved through the ruined guitar. Through the shower of splinters, the blade's trajectory shifted, tracing an unpredictable path through the air before falling across Chou Fei's body. The razor edge traveled over his flesh, and where it passed, meat parted from bone.
"So much fun!"
Chou Fei knew he was outmatched. He flickered aside, feet crossing in rapid succession, fingers dancing across the broken strings—like a butterfly in flight—channeling his last reserves of Cursed Energy into a wave of sound that surged toward Shigemo.
One blast forced Shigemo back. Chou Fei launched himself away, vaulting the highway guardrail in an instant and dropping along the mountainside.
Crack.
He landed on a rock ledge. It collapsed beneath him.
Miracle Accumulation.
Chou Fei lost his footing, stumbled, and in the instant before he plunged into the abyss, channeled Cursed Energy to his feet. His fall stopped—barely.
But that split-second pause was all Shigemo needed. He closed the gap. The tachi gleamed cold, pressed against Chou Fei's throat, and the chill of death kissed his forehead.
Desire.
Both hands formed seals.
Bottomless, boundless desire erupted from Chou Fei's pupils and flooded into Shigemo's wide-open eyes, corroding his soul, gnawing away at his mind inch by inch.
This was Chou Fei's true Innate Technique—Curse Poison.
Then Chou Fei's hands split apart, sweeping past Shigemo's cheeks to land on the temples at either side of his skull. Gnarled fingers trembled in the air, tapping out a melody.
In the ghost of that rhythm, Shigemo's brain detonated into a spray of gore.
Chou Fei flicked his wrists. Threads of blood flung from his ten fingers, spattering in a semicircle on the ground.
Hah... hah...
He gasped for breath, lungs feeling as though they were about to tear apart.
His condition was dire. His chest had caved in—Shigemo's kick had hit him square-on, and who knew how many ribs were broken. Arms, torso, shoulders—all cross-hatched with blade wounds, blood gushing from every one.
Hatred.
His right arm was the worst. Kira had already blown it off once before.
Now, after channeling that much Cursed Energy, the wound had split back open. The arm hung limp, connected to his shoulder by a few thin strands of tissue and shattered bone.
Hatred.
Chou Fei clawed his way up the cliff face, step by agonizing step. By the time he hauled himself back onto level ground, he was utterly spent, sprawled face-down in the dirt.
Hatred. Hatred. Resentment. This was the hatred born of desire. Reduced to this state—Nanami Kira, Nanami Kira.
I'll kill you I'll kill you I'll kill you I'll kill you. I will kill you... Nanami Kira!
Once I regain my former strength, I'll kill every last person in Kyoto!
What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger...
"Not bad at all."
A calm voice broke the silence, tinged with admiration.
"How was this blade made, I wonder."
His gaze drifted upward. A perfectly unremarkable salaryman was frowning thoughtfully, turning a weapon over in his hands, examining it from every angle.
Chou Fei recognized the blade. It was Shigemo's Cursed Tool.
At its end, a human hand served as the hilt.
"Truly exquisite craftsmanship!"
Nanami Kira's enthusiasm hit full throttle, his voice lifting with every word.
"What kind of genius came up with such a brilliant idea?"
Now he was in his element, slipping back into professional analysis:
"The adhesion between hand and blade is perfect. Not too rigid, not too loose. Holding it feels like taking a girl's hand—it brings this long-forgotten calm to your heart, all the irritation just melting away. Fighting with a weapon like this... it's a revolutionary concept."
He spoke with genuine relish, as if the man lying in the dirt before him simply didn't exist.
"Kira—Nanami Kira?"
Seeing the last person he wanted to see, Chou Fei's pupils contracted. Every hair on his body stood on end. Dragging his broken body, he instinctively shrank backward.
"Mm."
Kira set down the blade and looked over. His expression was placid.
"Good evening, Principal Gakuganji."
"You—you set me up?"
The soul inside the borrowed body seethed. Venomous eyes locked onto Kira like a coiled viper.
"What did you come back for?"
"Just tying up loose ends."
Kira checked his watch, not bothering to look up.
"Tonight's script goes like this: our conspiracy is exposed, you're killed by a curse, and I avenge you."
"Framing someone is all about leaving no witnesses."
"What's the point of any of this? You could have just killed me outright. What's the point?"
"Guess."
Kira gave a sincere nod.
"That Cursed Spirit was useless—couldn't even finish the job properly. So I had to put in some overtime. I'm quite troubled by this, you know."
"Chou Fei, can you understand my suffering?"
"No... No! Nanami Kira!"
Chou Fei locked eyes with Kira. Locked on and did not let go. The malice in that gaze was so dense it seemed about to solidify, raising every hair on end. Then Chou Fei threw his head back and laughed, his chest heaving grotesquely, more blood pouring forth.
"You can't kill me! Don't forget our Binding Vow—go ahead and try! Kill me!"
His eyes burned blood-red. "Kill me! I curse you—your soul will suffer for all eternity! Kill me!"
Rip.
A hand bearing a black skull punched clean through Chou Fei's chest. A gentle squeeze.
His heart bloomed like a flower.
And withered like a flower.
Chou Fei's consciousness scattered. His vision blurred and blurred until only the faint motion of Kira's lips remained—saying something, but Chou Fei couldn't process it, couldn't understand. The sky felt so heavy, his head so thick...
In the instant his body hit the dirt, the words finally reached him:
"Our Binding Vow was I will never detonate the bomb, my dear Chou Fei."
Because Killer Queen was a spiritual entity. Its attacks could naturally harm the soul hiding within Gakuganji's body. That single punch through the chest had pierced the Desire Po as well—the soul cracking apart like shattered porcelain, piece by piece.
Drifting through the air like white butterflies.
When the last butterfly had flown, Yoshinobu Gakuganji's eyes went dark for good.
Special Grade Curse User, Hasegawa Kaede—dead. Permanently.
Thin moonlight fell on Nanami Kira's face, lending it an air of the uncanny.
He gazed out across Kyoto in the darkness, watching the glittering streets thick with desire, and murmured:
"Everything has been prepared for you."
Until Time Reshaping—
One day remained.