Unruly Punishment
The fierce battle raging on the surface had no effect on the depths of the Maggot's Nest underground prison.
This was the third floor—Shūhei.
Shiraishi paid no attention to how many prisoners were locked away in the darkness. With his left hand, he dragged along the two administrators who had opened the doors on the first and second floors. With his right, he shoved the third-floor administrator toward the barrier sealing the gate.
"Unlock it."
In theory, the defenses of the Maggot's Nest were impenetrable—making a break-in virtually impossible.
But theory always depended on people.
Most of the Kidō Corps here were nobles who had lived in comfort all their lives. Their work was little more than opening the Dankai passages, maintaining barriers, and other tasks far removed from combat.
With Shiraishi's blade pressed to their necks, few had the courage to stand firm.
"O-okay, okay!" The third-floor administrator trembled, cursing under his breath. Damn the Onmitsukidō and the First Division—for letting someone like this get inside!
"Hurry."
Shiraishi's tone was sharp. He didn't know how long Oda Nobunaga and the others could hold out. Time was slipping through his fingers.
The administrator formed seals and cried out to the shimenawa rope across the gate:
"Release!"
The rope split apart, the ofuda talisman at its center bursting into flames. The massive stone door groaned open.
Without hesitation, Shiraishi struck the administrator unconscious with a flat blow of his blade. Slinging the others over his back, he descended to the fourth floor.
It was darker still. No torches lit the way—only a cold, eerie blue glow flickered faintly in the distance.
The low, broken cries of prisoners echoed like the wails of infants in the night.
"You're late."
A Kidō Corps member, unaware of what was happening, walked up to ask Shiraishi who he was bringing down.
Shiraishi didn't bother to answer. A swift kick sent the man flying. His senses spread out, searching for a familiar reiatsu amidst the countless others. Dropping his burdens, he vanished with a flash step, reappearing in front of a cell.
Thick iron bars blocked his way. Without hesitation, Shiraishi drew his Infinite Blade and brought it down in a single arc.
CRASH!
The bars split apart with a deafening clang, the sound echoing down the corridor and alerting every guard on the floor.
"Who goes there?!"
"An intruder—!"
"Tsu—"
Their voices were cut off in sharp bursts.
Inside the cell, Shiba Kūkaku sat blindfolded, unmoving. She couldn't see what was happening, and she forced herself to remain silent despite the spiritual pressure surging in the air. Her jaw ached from clenching the gag between her teeth.
Shiraishi swiftly cut down the guards and administrators who rushed in, then strode to her side.
She was tied to a chair, clad in a white prison uniform that clung tightly to her frame.
Shiraishi cut the ropes, then slashed across the uniform at her abdomen—not to expose her, but to test whether damaging the suit would disrupt the seal suppressing her reiatsu.
"Pah—"
Kūkaku spat out the gag, yanked the blindfold off with one hand, and wiped saliva from the corner of her mouth with the other. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom.
"Shiraishi?! Why are you here?"
"Sorry I'm late." He didn't waste time. "Can you run?"
"Yes—" she started to say, pushing herself up. But her legs gave out, and she collapsed against him like a limp bundle.
He caught her easily. "The drug hasn't worn off?"
"It has. But my body hasn't recovered yet." Her voice was softer than usual, stripped of her fiery temper. "Looks like I can't run… Carry me."
"Fine."
He turned and crouched.
Kūkaku didn't hesitate. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to his back.
When he rose, her entire body tensed. She had never been touched so closely by a man before. Whispering, she muttered, "At least hold me by the back of my knees, not my waist."
"…I've never carried anyone before," Shiraishi admitted, shifting his grip. His hand slid lower, beneath her thighs. The so-called "uniform" felt thin as silk. Whoever designed this had been less concerned with function than humiliation.
"Hnn…" Kūkaku's breathing hitched, her arms tightening instinctively around his shoulders.
"Hold on tight."
Without another word, Shiraishi dashed upward. Flash Step wasn't an option—he could phase through matter alone, not while carrying her.
The air rushed past, carrying away the prisoners' cries.
By the time they reached the third floor, Kūkaku's grip had steadied. The fear and rage that had filled her heart these past days were dissolving with the wind in her ears. For a fleeting moment, she felt… at peace.
But that peace couldn't last. Leaving here would only draw the full wrath of the Gotei 13, the Central 46—no, the Tsunayashiro clan itself.
"Can you hold on?" Shiraishi asked as they reached the first floor. The reiatsu from Yamamoto Genryūsai's clash with Oda Nobunaga was so intense, it was bleeding into the underground.
"I can." Her voice firmed, her old strength returning.
Nodding once, Shiraishi carried her past the breached thirteen-layer barrier, toward the stairs leading to the surface.
Light spilled in—on one side the shadowy world of the Senzaikyū's walls, on the other the blinding sun.
A blast of wind rippled the lake outside the shattered gates.
Ahead, Shiraishi saw Nei Meng's back—and then the man staggered, blood bursting from his abdomen.
"That took far too long,"
Okita Sōji muttered, shaking the blood from his blade. Dust coated his face. He had avoided using the Dusk Bell's power, wary of draining himself—but his opponent had forced his hand.
For a woman with no spiritual pressure, her speed and destructive power had been outrageous.
Even so, she had finally fallen.
As he stepped over Nei Meng's body, a sharp chill shot up his spine like ice water.
His instincts screamed.
Without hesitation, Okita shaved half a second from time itself.
That was his ability: no one could ambush him. By cutting away half a second, he could always evade the fatal blow and counter in kind.
And he had already done so more than once.
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