It was a lavish nightclub.
A ceiling lamp spanning a full two square meters bathed the great hall's vaulted roof in deep crimson. Its glaze-like radiance scattered through layer after layer of mirrors before settling on the scarlet carpet below—no longer as dazzling as before, but carrying a richer, more aged warmth, like the color of steeped tea.
Three full stories rose in a ring, encircling the ground-floor hall.
Oil paintings in heavy, saturated colors hung on the walls, yet the wallpaper was done in ukiyo-e style, depicting yaksha and oni. Nine black Torch Dragons spiraled down along the walls, their faces twisted and ferocious, as though ready to crawl out of the murals and come alive.
At the very center of the hall stood a black coffin. Its ominous, terrifying presence seemed to warp the surrounding air. Simply drawing near was enough to make breathing difficult—an instinctive, physiological dread.
"Oh my. Tai Guang."
From a shadowed corner came a husky voice dripping with feminine allure. It belonged to a woman of about twenty—or perhaps she was still a girl.
Her mannerisms carried the sensuality of a mature woman, yet when her eyes moved there was a purity that didn't belong to someone her age. Long, slender black legs crossed one over the other as she leaned against the bar counter. Her voice had a breathy lilt that set the listener's nerves tingling:
"When do you think those people will get here? I'm sooo bored waiting."
"Feidu."
Half of Tai Guang's face was submerged in shadow. His eyes were narrowed to slits, a vertical pupil visible in each narrowed eye, now slowly rotating. Then another eye—small and black—opened from deep within:
"They're about two kilometers out. Hmm... let me look again... They split up?"
"Hee. Nanami Kira and two other sorcerers broke away from the group. Going for a decapitation strike, are they?"
"Ara, ara~ How interesting."
Feidu smiled faintly, an amused expression playing across her face. "What adorable children."
"Lord Hanami."
Que Yin lifted his head from his corner. He was a scrawny little old man with a pinched face, every line of it plastered with obsequiousness:
"We'll leave Devourer in your care. The rest of us will go out and greet them."
Hanami, a Special Grade cursed spirit.
White, marble-like slabs of muscle were crisscrossed by cursed markings—pitch-black and terrifying, like thick, venomous snakes. Where eye sockets should have been, two branches grew out like antlers, though they more closely resembled a pair of bare, stunted pine trees.
"As long as you fulfill your promise and nurture a second King of Curses."
Hanami rasped, his voice soft.
He didn't care about his own survival. Didn't care about honor or glory. Hanami had been born from humanity's fear of the forest. He loved all living things. In his eyes, it was humanity's very existence that drove nature toward ruin.
He didn't care whether he was the one standing atop the world a century from now—so long as it wasn't a human.
To him, this society was already rotten. Only total destruction could bring rebirth.
These past few days, what Que Yin and the others had accomplished pleased him greatly. Breeding malice in people's hearts, letting them slaughter each other in conflict—a new order would be forged in those flames.
A new King of Curses would descend amid humanity's wailing and lead the world into a new era.
"How much longer until Devourer fully evolves?"
He gazed at the black coffin, sensing that terrifying aura, and was quite satisfied.
Spreading fear through curses wasn't difficult. The truly challenging part was absorbing the vast, dispersed negative emotions of an entire city. In Hanami's memory, no cursed spirit had ever managed that.
Yet Devourer had somehow succeeded. After days of feeding, his aura had grown increasingly horrifying. Once he emerged, he would surely become the demon king of a new world.
They had proven their strength. That was precisely why Hanami was willing to help them free of charge.
As stated earlier, he didn't care whether he was the one standing atop the world a century hence. If ten thousand had to die for one to rise, he was willing to become a nameless corpse beneath that mountain of bones—for the world's sake.
Nanami Kira and his two companions moved across the rooftops. White streaks of rain draped over them like a thin blanket, but that blanket was quickly lost—their speed kept climbing, and raindrops striking their bodies were compressed into fine silver threads before they could even fall.
If anyone had looked up at the night sky just then, they would have seen three silver ribbons cutting across the rooftops, slicing through the darkness.
Kira glanced back. Waves of cursed energy pulsed faintly from behind—the battle had begun. He frowned slightly and said to Todo in a low voice:
"We may have already been spotted."
"Why?"
Mechamaru kept his head down, blue eyes fixed on the ground as he ran. "What makes you say that?"
"Don't you think these streets are far too quiet?"
Indeed. Far too quiet.
Nothing but the sound of rain tapping on roof tiles—a thin, pattering drizzle. A few frog calls. The occasional bark of a dog from a deep alley, quickly swallowed by the silence. The neon signs that normally blazed with color were dim now, their glow reduced to soft, warm halos bleeding through the fine mist.
Not a single person in sight.
"Isn't quiet a good thing?" Todo kept his voice low.
"Doesn't it strike you as strange? We're heading straight for the enemy's most critical position, and yet we haven't encountered a single scout or sentry along the way. It doesn't add up."
"True..." he murmured.
"There's only one explanation."
Kira's voice dropped, eyes locked forward:
"They don't need extra scouts. We've been under surveillance the entire time. They have a far more powerful means of detection."
"You mean an innate technique specialized in surveillance? A Grade 1 curse user?"
To achieve that level of monitoring, it would have to be someone of Grade 1 or above.
Kira was about to nod when his heart lurched. Every pore on his body snapped open.
He instinctively called Killer Queen's name in his mind. In an instant, the pink silhouette materialized from his body.
The next second, three massive spheres—each wrapped in grotesque tree-branches—shredded the rooftop beneath them and slammed into him like anti-aircraft shells.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The earth shuddered violently. Roof tiles shattered wave after wave. The building—torn open with three gaping holes—began to collapse, one structure toppling into the next like dominoes.
In just seconds, the cave-in had swallowed several buildings. Dust billowed up and settled back down as icy rain poured over the ruined earth. A tall banyan tree shot upward in an instant, crushing the road ahead.
Hanami leaned against that trunk, looking down at Kira and his team.
Thanks to his Stand's protection, Kira was uninjured—but he was a mess. Dust covered the coat he'd just bought, his clothes were disheveled, and he had an obsession with cleanliness and order.
He rose from the rubble, peered through the rain at the towering tree, and said quietly:
"Todo. Looks like our infiltration plan just failed."
"Not necessarily..."
Todo slammed his fist into a nearby pillar, snapping it clean in half. The already half-collapsed roof came crashing down behind them, kicking up a massive pressure wave that whipped at the hems of their coats.
Todo fixed his gaze on the shadow in the tree. A wild, almost manic grin split his face wide.
"Kill every witness, and the infiltration's still a success."
"Seconded."
Mechamaru's eyes flickered slightly. He flexed his mechanical arms, gears clicking and clacking:
"I think Todo has a point."