"Is this guy unkillable?!"
Umezono Chizu felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He and Daigo had riddled the brute with holes, pumped him full of poison, bled him far past what any human should survive—yet the man still hadn't fallen.
What… is he?
The fear he'd barely suppressed roared back, drowning thought. They were facing a monster that wouldn't die.
Screee—
The jagged butcher's cleaver rose, teeth glinting. Behind the blood-red mask, those flat, indifferent eyes regarded them like livestock awaiting slaughter.
"Run! Run!" Chizu's last thread of composure snapped. The instant the thought of escape flashed across his mind, he bolted—dropping Daigo without a second look. "Help—! Somebody—help!"
His hoarse cries echoed off the tower's dark stone. No one answered.
It wasn't entirely his fault. The pressure radiating off that hulking silhouette was beyond anything a sane person could bear.
"Chizu…?" Daigo's face drained. He hadn't expected his teammate to ditch him.
He twisted to flee—and a rank, metallic tang flooded his nose. The figure was already there, cleaver arcing down.
Daigo yanked his puppet back in front of him.
Crack—rip!
Wood shattered like kindling. The puppet flew apart in a spray of limbs and gears.
The instant of shelter was enough. Survival instinct screaming, Daigo blasted chakra and dove sideways—
Shhhhk.
Agony exploded in his legs. He hit the floor and slid, turned—and saw why he couldn't stand.
Both legs were gone at the thigh.
The cut surfaces were ragged, meat torn to mince—the work of serrated steel.
"Ah—ahhh—MY LEGS!" he shrieked, tendons standing out in his neck.
"Chizu—help me! Help!" He clawed at the stone, hot blood pooling beneath him, eyes rolling white.
Chizu staggered to a stop at the sound, turned—and froze.
The "Butcher," bristling with needles and punctures, several fist-sized holes punched through his chest and stomach, loomed over Daigo. He planted his feet at Daigo's hips and lifted the half-curved, gore-slick cleaver high.
"Help me…"
Daigo's pupils quivered, rimmed in red. He threw his last shred of hope at his teammate across the hall.
Their eyes met over ten meters of blood-slick stone.
Chizu's lips went bloodless. He wanted to move. He wanted to help. But the body's will to live drowned everything else.
His foot slid back.
"Chizu…?" Disbelief flickered across Daigo's face.
The cleaver fell.
Crunch.
Everything from Daigo's navel down parted like wet rope.
"AAAAAH—!"
He nearly blacked out from the pain. The Butcher raised the blade again, eyes roaming Daigo's twitching body as if weighing where to cut next.
"Help me—help me!" Daigo howled, voice cracking.
Chizu's breath came ragged. He stared, white to the lips, pupils trembling—then bit down until he tasted iron and whispered so low only he could hear:
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
He turned and ran.
"Chizu—! I hate you—!" Daigo's voice warped, eaten hollow by rage and terror. "I curse you! I—ah—aaah—"
The screams thinned. Then silence.
Chizu sprinted through the tower, the fading echoes clawing at his spine. He knew what silence meant.
He was next.
Not all news was bad. The time Daigo bought let Chizu map the tower's guts. Corridors. Service rooms. Vents.
He wriggled into a narrow duct—an air channel, cramped and hidden. Perfect.
He crawled until his arms shook, then paused to draw breath.
It won't find me.
He slowed his breathing, forced his heart to settle.
Screee—screee—
The rasp of serrated steel on tile sounded directly overhead.
It's here.
Chizu clamped a hand over his mouth. He didn't dare breathe. His pinprick pupils quivered; his heart hammered so hard it might burst.
The scraping passed and faded by degrees.
Gone?
He sagged in place, taut nerves slackening by a hair. Reason seeped back in around the edges.
I have to get out. This is an air duct—find a weak spot in the barrier and break through.
He started crawling again. The duct was tight; he could only inch forward by grinding his ribs and belly along the floor, toes and fingerpads dragging him like a snake.
Stone flayed skin from his elbows and knees. He kept moving.
At last, a thread of light gleamed ahead.
An exit?
Chizu's eyes flared. No barrier shimmered there. If he could reach that grate, he could squeeze out—
He wriggled faster, flesh scraping raw.
Almost… there…
The glow swelled, warm and sweet after the tower's reek. Hope blossomed in his chest.
Closer. Closer. Just a little—
He shoved his head through the opening and gulped clean air. It was so fresh he could taste life in it.
"I made it—!"
"Found… you."
The rasp behind him froze his heart mid-beat. The smile on his face curdled to stone.
He twisted in the tight duct. From the dark behind, a blood-red mask slid into view.
A cold hand locked around his ankle.
The next instant, an irresistible force ripped him backward into the dark.
"NO—! Don't—!" Chizu's nails tore up the duct's floor, curling back with a wet pop, ten bright red gouges scoring the stone as he vanished into black.
The deepest despair always comes right after a taste of hope.
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