Amidst Heiji Hattori's desperate roar and under Kanjuro's indifferent gaze from afar, the two Flintlock Pistols condensed from dark magic spat out black flames representing the end almost simultaneously.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
The two muffled gunshots overlapped, breaking the silence of the hill.
Heiji Hattori's body jerked violently as two clusters of eerie black energy exploded in his chest. The energy, like a living thing, rapidly corroded his life force. He looked down at his shattered chest in disbelief, then took one last look at those two faces that had become so unfamiliar. His eyes were filled with endless pain, incomprehension, and utter despair.
He opened his mouth, as if he still wanted to say something, but in the end, no sound came out. His body slumped backward, falling heavily onto the cold grass. In his wide-open eyes, the last light faded.
The mountain wind continued to blow, but it couldn't carry away the thick smell of blood and the pervasive aura of death.
Kazuha and Hattori Shizuka slowly lowered the muzzles that were still emitting wisps of black smoke. There was no fear or sadness on their faces after killing someone, only the calm of having completed a task, and even... a hint of anticipation.
Kanjuro slowly stepped out from behind the tree, walking across the dew-covered grass to Heiji Hattori's corpse. He looked down at the body that still held some warmth, his gaze like he was looking at an inconsequential object. Then, he looked up at Kazuha and Hattori Shizuka, a "commendatory" smile appearing on his face.
"Well done," he said softly, as if praising students who had completed a simple assignment.
He walked up to Kazuha, reached out, and gently stroked her cheek, his gaze "tender":
"Now, I will keep my promise. I will tell you everything you want to know... about me."
A burning light instantly burst from Kazuha's eyes, as if the long-awaited reward was finally in hand.
Hattori Shizuka watched from the side, a trace of imperceptible envy flashing in her eyes, but mostly it was absolute obedience to Kanjuro.
Kanjuro took Kazuha's hand and turned to walk into the depths of the mountain forest, with Hattori Shizuka silently following. They didn't look back at the gradually cooling corpse again, as if it were just a piece of the past that had been completely discarded and was inconsequential.
On the hill, only the boy's body remained, witnessing the extreme distortion and betrayal that humanity can reach under the erosion of darkness. Kanjuro's shadow grew even heavier, nourished by the blood. Deep in the mountains, in the abandoned hunter's cabin. The night was as black as ink, covering the forest and the sin together. Inside the cabin, the bonfire flickered, reflecting entangled figures and twisted emotions.
Kanjuro leaned lazily in a corner covered with simple furs. Toyama Kazuha snuggled against his left side, while Hattori Shizuka was half-held in his arms. The expensive and elegant Kimono she wore had been slowly unfastened by his skillful fingers, and the beautiful fabric was scattered over her body like a blooming flower, shimmering with a silvery-white luster under the dancing firelight.
He held these two women who were utterly devoted to him—who had even just killed their closest relative for him—as if he were embracing his most perfect trophies.
And by the dilapidated door of the cabin, Black Jeanne stood with her back to the room, leaning against the doorframe.
Her pitch-black armor gleamed with a cold, hard luster in the dimness, completely out of place with the charming yet eerie atmosphere inside the room.
She didn't participate, nor did she leave; she just listened quietly.
Along the way, she had witnessed Kanjuro's ruthlessness, calculation, and endless darkness. She herself was sinking deeper and deeper into this path, but deep in her heart, there always lurked a hint of curiosity about this man who had summoned her here and fallen with her—why on earth did he become like he is now?
Amidst Kanjuro's teasing, Hattori Shizuka's gaze was blurred, yet a trace of longing for that "truth" remained. She panted and asked softly, "Kanjuro... you promised to tell... the past..."
Kanjuro looked down at the light in her eyes, a mixture of emotion and a quest for knowledge, and a mysterious smile curled on his lips. His fingertip pressed seemingly unintentionally on a certain acupoint on the side of her neck. Shizuka let out a soft moan, her gaze instantly scattering, and she fainted softly in his arms, falling into a deep sleep.
"Some stories," Kanjuro's voice was low and carried a strange magnetism as his gaze turned to Kazuha in his arms and Jeanne by the door, who had clearly pricked up her ears, "the fewer people who know, the better."
Now, the only listeners left were the conscious Kazuha and Jeanne, who, though she hadn't turned around, was listening with her whole being.
Holding Kazuha, Kanjuro's gaze seemed to pierce through the dilapidated roof, looking toward a void in the past. He began to speak, his tone calm yet carrying a bone-deep coldness:
"I We were not born as we see us now..once...I also have a view on so-called love., Filled with the purest,The most foolish longing."
This sentence made Kazuha's eyes widen suddenly, and even Jeanne's shoulders by the door moved almost imperceptibly.
For a man like Kanjuro to actively admit he once had a yearning for love? This was more shocking to them than hearing about the end of the world.
"There was also once... indeed, I met a woman who made my heart flutter, a woman I was willing to give my heart to," Kanjuro continued, his voice showing no significant fluctuations, which instead made it even more eerie.
"Was... was it that woman who betrayed you?!" Kazuha immediately asked excitedly. In her twisted logic, only such a tragic betrayal could explain Kanjuro's subsequent transformation. "So she hurt you, and that's why you stopped believing in love?!"
Although Jeanne didn't turn around, her cold voice also drifted over: "Hmph, I suppose that's how it was. The feelings of mortals are inherently fragile."
However, Kanjuro slowly shook his head, giving an answer that surprised them even more.
"No, there was no betrayal."
His tone even carried a hint of confirmation, as if reminiscing:
"The feelings between the two of us, at that time... were very good. We were attracted to each other and fell for each other. That period of time could even be said to be one of the few 'bright' segments in my long life."
"Then... then why?!" Kazuha was even more puzzled, and Jeanne also slightly turned her head, revealing a small part of her profile that was written with confusion.
"A problem with personalities?" Jeanne speculated. "Unable to tolerate each other's essence?"
Kazuha immediately echoed: "Right! It must be that! She simply didn't understand how good you are, Brother Kanjuro! She didn't deserve your love!"
Kanjuro once again denied their speculations. For the first time, his voice carried a tone of almost venomous sarcasm—a mockery of his past naive self and a final defining statement on that relationship which had died prematurely:
"It has nothing to do with personality. On the contrary, precisely because she was wonderful, I treated her with genuine sincerity. It's just... in the end, I realized we still couldn't be together."
He looked into Kazuha's confused eyes and, word by word, clearly revealed the root cause that had fermented into endless darkness in his heart:
"It's simply because she loved me very much, and I loved her very much..."
"It's just that she couldn't let go of her 'attachments'."
"For example, her family... didn't like me."
His tone became extremely flat, yet it contained a storm:
"So, she decided not to be with me."
The hut fell into a deathly silence. The bonfire crackled, as if mocking this absurd and cruel reason.
Kanjuro's voice suddenly rose, carrying a long-suppressed, volcanic eruption of resentment and denial:
"I cannot understand!"
"Since we loved each other so much, and there was no betrayal, how could she give up so easily because of external pressure, because of other people's opinions, because of that ridiculous 'family resistance'?!"
"If so, what kind of love still exists in this world?"
Cold flames burned in his eyes:
"It's nothing but a pile of dog shit! Hypocritical! Cheap! Vulnerable!"
He suddenly tightened his grip, firmly holding Kazuha in his embrace, staring intently at her, as if intending to engrave this 'truth' into her soul:
"Kazuha, remember, this is a secret only you... are allowed to hear."
"You must not tell anyone."
Jeanne d'Arc, standing by the door, finally turned completely around. Her golden pupils, burning with the flame of vengeance, were filled with complex emotions: understanding, sarcasm, and perhaps a hint of... kindred sympathy?
She spoke coldly: "So, just because of one failed relationship, one woman's 'weakness,' you intend to take revenge on the entire world? To make everyone pay for your 'lack of understanding'?"
"Of course." Kanjuro replied without hesitation, self-righteously, as if this were an undeniable truth. "That's why I no longer believe in any so-called feelings. Love, friendship, kinship... they are merely combinations of self-interest, desire, and fragile willpower, unable to withstand any test."
He paused, a smile that was almost self-mocking yet incredibly dangerous appearing on his face. His finger gently traced Kazuha's cheek, but his eyes were terrifyingly hollow:
"However, my personality seems to be... unchanged, just as it always was."
"It's just that I've grown fond of using various methods to test the human heart, to torment the human spirit, and to personally watch those who loudly proclaim 'love' and 'loyalty' reveal their true colors under pressure, becoming even worse than me."
He spoke as if stating an interesting hobby:
"I can't help it. After all, I... have already lost the capacity to love."
"I have to find something to do to pass this long and boring time, don't I?"
The bonfire's light flickered across his face, illuminating a soul completely twisted—one who, unable to comprehend 'ordinary love,' had gone to extremes, ultimately finding pleasure in manipulating and trampling upon the emotions of others.
He transformed his shattered past into an even sharper knife, used to dissect human nature, and handed it to his most " loyal" audience.
Kazuha gazed at him blankly, as if listening to a divine oracle, treating his every sentence, every word, as absolute truth.
And Jeanne d'Arc, in her silence, seemed to find a deeper, darker resonance with this master with whom she had formed a contract. Kanjuro's cold, bone-chilling self-analysis, born from his fractured past, was like the strongest poison, yet it carried a strange, demonic power, deeply imprinted in the hearts of Kazuha and Jeanne d'Arc. Kazuha treated it as truth, while Jeanne d'Arc found a twisted form of affirmation in the dark resonance.
·· 0 Flowers Requested 0 --- Shizuka woke up shortly after. Although she had missed the core 'truth,' seeing Kanjuro's profound profile and Kazuha's increasingly obsessed gaze, she wisely chose not to ask. She knew there were boundaries Kanjuro would not allow her to cross. All she could do was obey even more completely.
Perhaps the opening of his heart (even if dark) brought a strange influence, or perhaps the equally fervent 'love' of the three women, despite their different intentions, formed a brief warm current. That night, in the dilapidated hunter's hut, Kanjuro uncharacteristically refrained from further scheming and manipulation. He allowed Kazuha to lean against him, Shizuka to serve him, and even showed a rare tolerance for Jeanne d'Arc's barbed silence.
The bonfire flickered, reflecting the intertwined figures of the four, briefly creating an illusion of eerie and twisted "warmth." It was as if, in this corner abandoned by the world, four broken souls had found a dark form of dependence.
However, when the first ray of dawn pierced the night and dispersed the mountain mist, that fleeting, illusionary "warmth" melted away like snow.
Kanjuro opened his eyes.
In those eyes, any trace of human emotion that might have lingered from the previous night had completely subsided, replaced by bottomless coldness and absolute rationality. He gently pushed away Kazuha, who was still nestled against him; the action was not rough, but it carried undeniable detachment. He stood up, adjusted his collar which didn't need adjusting, and was once again enveloped by that powerful aura of controlling and disregarding everything.
Shizuka immediately knelt respectfully. Kazuha also quickly got up, her eyes filled with reverence and anticipation. Jeanne d'Arc, holding her Reverse-pattern Holy Flag, watched Kanjuro's "return" with cold indifference... "Brother Ye Xiao, where are we going next?" Kazuha couldn't help but ask, her eyes gleaming with anticipation for the coming 'adventure.'
Kanjuro's gaze swept over them, finally settling on the gradually brightening woods outside the hut. His voice was calm, yet carried a chilling decisiveness:
"I am very disappointed with the police system of this island nation."
He stated plainly, as if evaluating an insignificant object.
"From the stupidity of the grassroots to the so-called 'justice' and 'emotional impulsiveness' of the high ranks, it is all filled with nauseating hypocrisy and incompetence."
He thought of the police officers who pursued him, and of Hattori Heizo's 'weakness' stemming from familial affection.
A cruel arc curved at the corner of his mouth:
"Therefore, before starting the next, larger plan, I've decided to first clean up these irritating bugs."
His gaze seemed to pierce through space, landing on the bustling city of Osaka:
"Let's start by... wiping out the Osaka Police Department."
This crazy and bloody plan was spoken in such a calm tone, as if he were merely planning a casual outing.
Upon hearing this, Toyama Kazuha's eyes showed no fear; instead, they instantly burst forth with extreme worship and fanaticism! She looked at Kanjuro as if gazing upon a deity about to execute a sacred mission:
"Brother Ye Xiao! That's wonderful! Those police officers, especially Uncle Heizo and the others... they should have been punished long ago! I support you!"
Black Jeanne d'Arc didn't seem surprised by this. She let out a knowing cold snort, complex flames flickering in her golden pupils:
"As expected... after venting those insignificant, weak emotions about the past, you are still you. Just as always, you want to use the most direct and violent method to retaliate against this world you fail to understand." Her tone held a hint of sarcasm, but also a certain indifference, as if she had anticipated this all along.
Shizuka's body trembled almost imperceptibly. Wiping out the Osaka Police Department? Her nominal husband, Hattori Heizo, was there, along with countless colleagues she knew or didn't know... But this tremor lasted only a moment. She immediately lowered her head, suppressed all emotions, and expressed her stance in the most submissive tone:
"Lord Kanjuro, no matter what decision you make, Shizuka will always support and follow you." She did not ask what Kanjuro had said to Kazuha; she knew it wasn't her place to ask. She only needed to play her role as his most loyal tool.
Kanjuro was very satisfied with their reactions. What he needed were followers who offered absolute obedience, regardless of reason or right and wrong.
"Very good." He nodded and led the way out of the hut.
"Then, let's depart."
"Let us bring a little... interesting 'chaos' to this dull world."
In the morning light, Kanjuro took the lead, his steps relaxed and firm, heading toward the bloody stage he had planned. Behind him followed three women, each with different intentions yet all firmly controlled by him: the fanatically worshipful Kazuha, the complex and silent Jeanne d'Arc, and the absolutely obedient Shizuka.
Their figures disappeared into the lush mountain woods, leaving behind the prelude to a storm woven from darkness and death, one that was about to sweep over Osaka. Kanjuro's revenge was never confined to individuals; he intended to crush all the order and rules he despised in the most ruthless way.
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