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Screams and hurried footsteps echoed from the direction of the market. Several adventurers standing guard around Rivira ran towards the source of the commotion, followed by city guards trying to control the situation.
"Quick! Block all the exits!" one of them shouted.
But amidst the thick plumes of smoke that still hadn't dissipated, two shadows moved nimbly. Ryuu lowered her body, her steps light and almost silent, slipping through the panicked crowd. The smoke perfectly covered her tracks. She turned into a narrow alley between stone buildings, where the air grew calmer and thick with the scent of metal.
"This way," a low voice whispered in the darkness. From behind the shadows emerged a figure wearing a skull mask — Shirou — now carrying the unconscious body of Jura over his shoulder.
Ryuu silently approached, her green robe swaying gently. She stared at Jura's limp face, half-buried in shadow. There was a cold glint in her eyes — no longer a burning anger, but a cold satisfaction born from justice finally being served, even if not yet complete. Finally, your turn has come... she thought to herself, without uttering a single word.
They left Rivira, their steps quick but careful, heading towards the forest outside the boundaries of the underground settlement. The farther they got from the light, the quieter the world around them became. Only the sound of footsteps on fallen leaves and steady breathing could be heard in the darkness.
After several minutes of walking, Ryuu finally whispered, her eyes still alert. "No one else knows about this place of yours, right?"
Shirou glanced over briefly, still balancing the burden on his shoulder. "No. I made this hut back when I was experimenting with magecraft," he answered calmly. "Only one person has ever been here."
"Who?" Ryuu asked quickly, her tone half-wary, half-curious.
"Riveria," Shirou answered succinctly, as if mentioning something that needed no further explanation.
Ryuu fell silent for a moment, curiosity swirling on her face. Lady Riveria? So she knows more about Shirou's secrets... she thought, but then she shook her head slightly, restraining herself. Now was not the time to inquire about that. There were more important matters at hand — and Jura, unconscious on Shirou's shoulder, was the beginning of it all.
They pushed through the dense trees until finally, a small building appeared behind the bushes—a ramshackle hut that looked like it would collapse if the wind blew just a little harder. Its wooden walls were dull, partly rotten, and its roof was covered in creeping moss like green fingers.
Ryuu stopped in front of the door, looking at it with raised eyebrows. "This... is your place?" she murmured.
Shirou just shrugged. "Haven't used it in a long time."
As the door slid open—creaaaak...—the hut proved to be emptier than it looked. No furniture, no signs of life; only damp air and a dusty wooden floor. Had she not known who owned it, Ryuu would have thought it was an abandoned squatter's den.
Shirou let out a short sigh, then lowered Jura from his shoulder. With a movement as light as blowing off dust, he raised his hand. A faint glow emanated from his palm.
"Trace on."
In an instant, a simple wooden chair appeared as if carved from the air. A small lamp emitting a soft yellow light also came into being, illuminating the dim room. Finally, a pair of shiny iron manacles appeared in his hands, cold and solid.
He neatly bound Jura's hands behind his back, ensuring the man couldn't move when he woke up. Jura was placed on the chair, his head lolling like a broken doll.
Ryuu stepped closer, her gaze hardening. "Then... It's time we begin." Her voice lowered, carrying a cold aura she made no effort to hide.
Shirou stared at her for a long time. "Begin... how?" he asked softly, a note of worry in his tone.
Ryuu turned her face away, her jaw tightening. "I'll just tear this man apart. Until he talks."
Her tone was dark—not just overflowing anger, but also a long-buried resolve. She walked towards the door, placing her hand on the handle. "You don't need to see this, Shirou. Just keep watch outside."
She didn't look back, but her voice trembled ever so slightly. "I don't want you to witness my ugly side."
Shirou watched Ryuu for a few seconds, reading the tension creeping from her shoulders to her fingertips. He knew exactly what Ryuu wanted to do... and what might happen if she did it alone.
"Ryuu," he said softly. "I'm coming inside."
Ryuu immediately stiffened. "No." Her reply was quick, sharp—like a slash. "This is my business. You don't need to see—"
"I want to come," Shirou interrupted with a firm tone he rarely used. "And no matter what you do... I won't judge you."
Ryuu froze. Her shoulders slumped, her breath trembling almost inaudibly. She bowed her head deeply, shadows falling on her face. There was shame there—not because she wanted to torture Jura, but because she felt her actions... were too dirty to be done in front of Shirou.
"Don't make me look despicable in your eyes..." she whispered, barely audible.
Shirou stepped closer, standing just a short distance from her. "Ryuu," he said gently, "I don't see you as despicable. Not now, not ever." He took a small breath. "And interrogation isn't just about torture. There's a technique to it."
Ryuu slowly raised her face, confused and suspicious. "Technique?"
"'Bad cop and good cop, '" Shirou explained, raising two fingers. "One person applies pressure, the other persuades."
Ryuu frowned. "That's... what kind of method? Where's it from?"
Shirou almost smiled—remembering himself watching this technique on a TV series after school—but he brushed the memory away before it showed on his face. "It's an effective way to make someone talk. I'll be the good cop. I'll talk nicely, offer a deal. You be the bad cop."
Ryuu closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine herself being friendly to Jura. The result? Her face immediately tensed, even turning a little pale.
"...Me?" she muttered with a disgusted tone. "Being nice to him? That won't happen."
Shirou let out a small snort that escaped. "That's why I'll handle that part."
Ryuu finally let out a long sigh, surrendering slowly. "Fine... if that's your method. I'll do my part."
She looked at Jura, who was still unconscious, with a cold glint that no longer hid.
"You persuade," she said softly, "and I... will make sure he knows the consequences if he tries to lie."
Shirou nodded.
The interrogation had just begun.
***
Jura jolted awake as cold water was splashed right onto his face. SPLASH! His body shivered, water dripping from his chin, while his eyes tried to adjust to the dim light of the lamp hanging from the hut's ceiling.
"Agh... what—where is this...?"
The last memory that surfaced in his head was... A skull mask. A black shadow. And a brutal blow to the back of his head.
Reflexively, he tried to move his hands—but krek--krek! The sound of manacles restraining his wrists made him panic instantly. His hands were crossed behind the chair, his body bound tightly without any leeway.
"What the hell is this!? Let me go! Hey! HE—"
SLAAAP! A hard slap hit his left cheek.
Before he could process the stinging pain, a second slap followed from the opposite side. SLAP! The sound echoed in the small room.
"A-ARGH! Are you insane!?—"
His scream stopped as his eyes finally focused.
In front of the chair stood an elf in a dark green robe, with short, pale green hair, and a gaze like a knife ready to slice.
But Jura recognized that face. Even with her hair cut short, even with its color changed, there was no way he could forget.
Gale Wind.
"R—Ryuu Lion...?" his voice cracked, barely coming out.
His face immediately turned pale like cloth soaked in bleach. Fear washed over his entire body, making the chair he sat on shake slowly.
Ryuu leaned down slightly, staring at him from under the shadow of her low hood. There was no explosive anger. No shouting. What came out was only a soft voice... cold... and far more terrifying.
"You still remember my name. Good."
She moved closer, pressing her palm against Jura's cheek—right where the slap had landed—then pressed gently, her smile thin like shards of glass.
"Because I... never forgot what you did."
The tone was flat, but every word felt like it was scraping his skin.
Jura swallowed, his body growing tenser. Crap... crap... this is bad... really bad... he thought. He thought hard, trying to piece together what he remembered: smoke, the chaotic market, someone in a skull mask hitting him...
Don't tell me...
He looked at Ryuu, trembling. So... Gale Wind was wearing that skull mask? She's the one who dragged me here...?
His face grew even paler, his fear tripling. If Ryuu was the one who did that, it meant she had marked him for death since the market.
Ryuu moved even closer, her sapphire eyes stabbing like long knives.
"I've wanted to do this for a long time. And now..." her fingers gripped Jura's jaw tightly. "No friends are coming to save you."
Jura groaned softly, pain spreading through his jaw and temples. In his head, one thought repeated like a desperate mantra:
Damn it... I got kidnapped alone. And that bastard Isama must have run off by himself. What a damn unlucky day...
He averted his gaze when he saw another figure standing near Ryuu—a red-haired youth, his face much softer and calmer compared to the slaughterer Gale Wind in front of him. Jura's eyes, initially full of panic, now darted quickly, trying to assess the situation.
Ryuu growled, about to press Jura's cheek again, but the youth stopped her with a light touch on her shoulder. "Ryuu... take it slow. We need him to talk."
That voice was calm, almost gentle. A total contrast to Ryuu's deadly aura.
Jura immediately seized the opportunity.
"Who are you...?" he mumbled in a feigned, suffering, hoarse voice.
The youth bowed his head slightly. "My name is Shirou."
Ha... gotcha, Jura thought. This one is easier to fool. Just play the victim and he'll definitely side with me...
Shirou leaned forward a little, his face gentle yet serious, like someone who genuinely wanted this matter resolved without further chaos. "Jura," he said in a calm tone, "we only need one thing: where are the remaining members of the Rudra Familia hiding? Tell us, and there's no reason to make this more painful."
Jura bowed his head, pretending to be weak, suppressing a cunning smile behind his cracked lips. Good... he's easily swayed. Just steer the conversation, give vague answers, let time pass... if I'm lucky, I can find a chance to escape.
He took a heavy breath and whispered, "I-I... actually want to tell you, but my memory... is a bit weak... I don't—"
THUD!
Ryuu kicked his leg hard, nearly toppling the chair over.
"Don't lie," Ryuu said sharply, her eyes shining like blades of ice.
"Guh—! W-wait, I just need time—"
SLAAAP!!
Ryuu slapped him as hard as she could, sending Jura's head snapping to the side.
Shirou held his breath, then calmed himself. "Ryuu, give him a chance to speak first."
Ryuu only growled, but didn't stop her piercing glare.
Jura saw this as an opportunity. Good... good... this red-haired one is truly naive. Just keep diverting the topic...
He raised his face a little. "I... might be able to help, but you have to understand, after the Rudra Familia fell, everyone scattered... I don't know for sure, maybe they moved... to another base... or maybe—"
THUD!!
Ryuu elbowed his stomach hard. Jura folded over, coughing, nearly vomiting blood.
"Stop wasting my time," Ryuu hissed.
Shirou raised a hand, trying to maintain the room's moral balance. "Jura. Listen to me. Stalling only makes your situation worse. Your answers don't make sense, and Ryuu knows it. I know it."
Shirou's tone was firm but not threatening, like a counterbalance to the storm.
Jura's mind raced. Okay, too soft to torture me... but smart enough to know I'm bluffing. Damn it. Need to find another way.
He tried again. "M-maybe I can help... but I need to remember first. It's... the place... some kind of temporary camp... maybe outside Rivira... or—"
THWACK!!
Ryuu kicked his shin with the precision of an experienced executioner. Jura screamed, his body shaking violently again.
"Don't play games with us," Ryuu snapped, her voice full of poison and unhealed memories from the past.
The interrogation repeated — Shirou calming, trying to steer the conversation, using gentle words to dig for the truth. Meanwhile, Jura, looking for an opportunity, kept circling, giving vague answers, offering false hope, trying to let time pass.
But every time he opened his mouth to stall, Ryuu responded harshly: slaps that made his ears ring, punches that rattled his bones, kicks that made his breath come out in ragged, broken gasps.
Like alternating storms:
Shirou's warmth—
followed by Ryuu's thunder.
Until finally, amidst the pain, Jura began to realize:
If I don't talk... I won't get out of here alive.
Jura slumped in the chair, his breath ragged, his face swollen and bruised blue. Every part of his body throbbed with pain, and every attempt to move his hands only made the manacles cut deeper into his skin. There was no gap, no chance to escape—he didn't even have the strength to stand.
There's no way out... he thought bitterly. The only thing I have left... is information.
With his remaining strength, he lifted his face towards Shirou. "I-I... will talk! I'll tell you!" he cried out hoarsely, almost like a drowning man trying to breathe again.
Shirou immediately crouched down, his voice still gentle. "Good. Take a breath first. No one is forcing you to die here. But you have to talk."
Jura took a trembling breath of air, then added quickly, "But... I want... a promise. A promise that I'll be allowed to live."
Shirou nodded, calm. "I will allow you to live. But after this, you still have to face punishment. You will be imprisoned—"
"NOT YOU, KID!!" Jura suddenly screamed, his voice a mix of desperation and pure fear. "I WANT THIS CRAZY WOMAN TO PROMISE!!"
Ryuu flinched. Shirou looked at her with a questioning gaze: Will you...?
Ryuu bit her lower lip so hard it nearly bled. Her eyes trembled—not with pity, but with anger held back from killing Jura right then and there. "Fine..." she hissed, clearly very reluctantly. "I... promise to let you live."
Jura shook his head frantically. "Th—that's not enough! I want you to swear it! S-swear on the name of Astraea!"
The surroundings of the hut seemed to freeze.
Ryuu tensed like a bowstring. Her breath suddenly became shaky. That name—the name of the Goddess she loved, respected, and missed—was uttered by the mouth of a scumbag from the Rudra Familia.
Ryuu's entire body grew hot with anger, but also wavered because of old wounds.
"Y-you..." she murmured, trembling.
Shirou looked like he wanted to stop it, but it was too late.
THWACKH!!
Ryuu punched Jura's jaw with all her strength. That punch wasn't just anger—it was an insult, it was a desecration of something sacred to her.
Jura was thrown back slightly, his chair creaking loudly, and blood spurted from his lip.
Ryuu took a breath, trembling. "You... go too far..." Her voice broke, caught between anger and hurt.
Jura slumped in his chair, blood dripping from his lips. He grimaced, then whined like a lost child. "Why... why did you hit me... what did I do wrong..." his voice broke, nasal, pitiful—but fake to the core.
Ryuu grabbed his collar, her bright blue eyes blazing with anger she had buried for years. "Don't ACT like a victim!" she yelled. "My friends died. The entire Astraea Familia died because of you, the Rudra Familia! And you—you were the leader!"
Jura closed his eyes, then answered in a broken voice, more out of panic than remorse, "W-we just set a small explosive trap! Y-you guys weren't hurt back then, right!? Whose fault is it that the Dungeon was damaged and summoned the Juggernaut!? How were we supposed to know—"
THWACKH!!
Ryuu punched Jura's jaw again, harder than before. "SHUT UP!"
Jura recoiled, his chair shaking again. Shirou immediately grabbed Ryuu's arm, stopping her next move. "Ryuu. Enough. You'll kill him before he talks."
Ryuu groaned softly, her chest heaving, but she reluctantly lowered her hand.
In the chair, Jura cried—this time almost convincingly. His body shook. "I-I... I've repented... for years... I've become a good person! Th-this is my reward...? Beaten to death...?"
Shirou felt something stab his chest—doubt and hope. He moved closer, crouching to check on Jura and intending to carefully sit him back up. Ryuu immediately tensed. "Shirou... don't." But the youth still raised his hand slightly, signaling: I know what I'm doing.
And so, a small mistake happened.
"Got you..." Jura whispered in his heart.
Jura's hand suddenly twisted behind his back—more flexible than a normal human's. He had an acrobatics Skill, a Skill that allowed his joints to flex abnormally. The manacles, impossible for a normal human to remove, he slipped from under his feet and pulled them to the front of his body.
CLACK! The manacles shifted forward.
In one swift movement like a snake, he pulled a small knife from inside his shoe—a thin, poisoned blade—and slashed it towards Shirou's neck.
Shirou only had time to jolt half a step back.
Jura screamed with a hoarse voice, "ELF! LET ME GO! IF YOU DON'T—I'LL SLIT YOUR BOYFRIEND'S THROAT!"
Ryuu didn't move. Didn't step back. Didn't panic.
She just stared... coldly. "Go ahead and try."
Jura growled in frustration and pressed the knife deeper—
Or he should have.
But...
The knife didn't penetrate.
It didn't cut flesh.
It didn't draw blood.
The knife... stopped. As if it had hit a hidden slab of iron.
"W-what...?" Jura looked at Shirou's neck in panic. "Why—?"
Shirou didn't move.
Then, slowly... he turned his head towards Jura.
His left eye was visible—red, sharp, full of cold anger. The light was dim yet intense, like black embers ready to explode.
Jura's face paled faster than the lantern light dimming.
Th-that eye...
That's... that's the same... the same as—
The skull mask.
The figure that hit him.
The terrifying shadow that took him down in the market.
Those eyes—
They're the same demonic eyes.
In an instant, all of Jura's confidence evaporated.
The knife in his hand shook violently.
His knees went weak even though he was sitting.
I'm... fucked...
That was the only sentence that could form in his head before full-blown horror swallowed all his courage.