In a flash, Hube Sho's blade arrived! That strike, which condensed all his madness and despair, stabbed straight toward Kanjuro's heart!
A cold light of a successful plan flashed in Kanjuro's eyes. He appeared to dodge clumsily, deliberately leaving a tiny opening in his movements to let the blade graze his clothes, while his right hand shot out like lightning, accurately grabbing Hube Sho's wrist that held the knife!
"Ugh!" Hube Sho let out a muffled groan, feeling a massive force on his wrist as if it were caught in an iron vice. The two instantly grappled together. The gap in strength and skill was obvious, but driven by dark power, Hube Sho exploded with a brute force far beyond his usual self, like a mad tiger, momentarily forming a deadlock with Kanjuro.
This was exactly the effect Kanjuro wanted. To onlookers, it appeared he was struggling to defend himself, his life hanging by a thread. He deliberately let the tip of Hube Sho's knife approach his vital points several times, drawing repeated cries of alarm from Yumiko and Ebina.
During one seemingly fatal exchange, Kanjuro's foot purposely "slipped," his body leaning back slightly and leaving himself wide open! Hube Sho's blood-red eyes erupted with bloodthirsty light. Seizing this "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity, he used all his strength to thrust the small knife toward Kanjuro's throat!
"No—!"
In this life-and-death moment, an expression of "terror" and "reluctance" appeared on Kanjuro's face at just the right time. His gaze "subconsciously" turned toward Yui Yuigahama, and he let out a sharp, "heartfelt" cry:
"Yui—!"
That cry was like a magic spell, instantly piercing through Yui Yuigahama's nerves, which had been frozen by fear! Seeing her "father" about to perish under the knife, the instinct to protect her closest kin overrode everything!
"Don't hurt him!" she screamed, her mind a complete blank. Her body acted before her consciousness, rushing forward recklessly, reaching out both hands to push Hube Sho away or grab that lethal weapon!
Just as her fingertips were about to touch Hube Sho's arm—
Deep within Kanjuro's eyes, the eerie power originating from the [dark bible] activated silently! The authority of the [Thousand Faces Garment], like invisible threads, instantly coiled around Yui Yuigahama's consciousness, subtly twisting her intentions and the direction of her strength. Simultaneously, a faint trace of magic from the [Gospel of Matthew], cleverly disguised, attached itself to Yui Yuigahama's hands.
All of this happened within a hundredth of a second, so fast that no one could perceive it.
To an outsider, it looked as though Yui Yuigahama, in a desperate attempt to save Kanjuro, had lunged forward and firmly grabbed Hube Sho's knife-wielding hand! Then, in the struggle between their strengths—
Squelch!
The tooth-gritting sound of a sharp blade cutting into flesh rang out.
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
Hube Sho's forward momentum came to a sudden halt. He looked down in disbelief at the small knife he had brought, which was now buried deep and accurately into his own chest. And holding the handle, besides his own hand—to which Kanjuro had secretly applied a reverse force—were... Yui Yuigahama's hands, covered in warm liquid and trembling violently!
Yui Yuigahama was also stunned. She stared blankly at her own hands, which were covered in thick, crimson blood. She could feel the terrifying sensation of the blade slicing through flesh and see the large bloom of blood rapidly spreading across Hube Sho's chest.
"I... I..." The blood-red in Hube Sho's eyes receded like a tide, returning to a brief clarity, but that clarity held only endless pain and confusion. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but only blood foam surged out. His body went limp, and he fell straight back, landing on the ground with a heavy "thud." After a couple of twitches, he went silent. Blood gurgled out from beneath him, pooling into a startling, expanding dark red under the moonlight.
The knife remained plunged into his heart.
"Ah... Aaaaaah—!"
Yui Yuigahama let out a piercing scream and jerked her hands away as if she had been burned, backing away repeatedly. She looked at her blood-stained hands, then at Hube Sho's cooling corpse on the ground. Immense fear and guilt swallowed her like a tsunami. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the ground with a "plop," her body shaking like a sieve. Tears mixed with snot flowed uncontrollably, and she couldn't even form a complete sentence, only letting out broken, desperate whimpers.
"No... It wasn't me... It wasn't me..." she muttered incoherently, her mind clearly suffering a massive shock.
Yumiko and Ebina were also stunned by this sudden, bloody conclusion. Yumiko covered her mouth, her face pale as she looked at the broken Yuigahama and the corpse on the ground, her eyes filled with lingering fear and helplessness. Ebina adjusted her glasses, the gaze behind the lenses complex and unreadable. She looked at Kanjuro, then at Yuigahama, seemingly understanding something but not daring to think too deeply about it.
Kanjuro stood in place, his face wearing the "relief" and "heaviness" of a "survivor." He walked to Yui Yuigahama's side, knelt down, and gently pulled her shivering, blood-stained body into his arms, comforting her in an incredibly gentle yet pained tone:
"It's okay... Yui, it's okay... It's not your fault. He tried to kill me first... You did it to protect Papa... You did it to protect me..."
His words were like a hypnotic suggestion, repeatedly entering Yui Yuigahama's nearly shattered mind. He skillfully packaged this murder—which he had orchestrated and personally guided to its conclusion—as an "accident" that Yui Yuigahama had been forced into to save her father.
Yui Yuigahama trembled violently in his arms, her tears soaking his clothes. Her mind was in total chaos. Kanjuro's words and the horrifying memory of "killing" Hube Sho with her own hands intertwined, making it impossible for her to distinguish between reality and illusion. She could only clutch Kanjuro's clothes helplessly, like a lost child, letting out pained, suppressed sobs under the blood-colored moonlight.
Kanjuro gently patted her back, his gaze passing over her head to rest on Hube Sho's corpse. In the shadows where no one could see, the corners of his mouth curled into a cold, satisfied arc.
A fine play had finally come to an end in the most satisfying way to him—one of blood and corruption. From now on, Yui Yuigahama's soul would bear the burden of this life, binding her even more tightly and twistedly to him.
Yui Yuigahama's gaze fell hollowly on Hube Sho's unmoving body. The piercing red made her stomach churn, and a strong urge to vomit rose in her throat, only to be suppressed by extreme fear. Her mind was a blank, with only the sticky, warm sensation on her hands and the terrible feeling of the blade cutting into flesh replaying constantly.
"I... I killed someone..." she murmured to herself, her voice so hoarse it didn't sound like her own.
"It's not your fault, Yui." Kanjuro's voice sounded in her ear, as gentle as if he were coaxing a child having a nightmare, forming a sharp contrast to the cold-blooded actions he was currently performing. He gently patted her back and said in a coaxing tone, "Look, you're covered in that bad man's dirty blood. It's uncomfortable, isn't it? Papa will take you somewhere to wash up, okay? It's fine. Papa will handle everything and protect you forever."
His words were like magical warm water, slowly seeping into Yui Yuigahama's nearly frozen thoughts. The word "protect" seemed so seductive at this moment. She was like someone grabbing onto a final lifeline, burying her face deep into Kanjuro's chest and clutching his clothes even harder, as if only then could she confirm she was still alive and hadn't been completely swallowed by this terrifying reality. She let out desperate, pained whimpers like a small animal in his arms, her body still shaking violently.
To the side, Miura Yumiko watched this eerie and bloody scene, her face pale with fright and her lips trembling, unable to say a word. She looked at Kanjuro and then at the broken Yuigahama, feeling a chill run from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.
Ebina Hina couldn't help but take half a step back, adjusting her glasses. The gaze behind the lenses was filled with fear and a sense of awe toward the unknown. She whispered, more as an excuse for herself, "I'm sorry... If it wasn't because Hube liked me, this wouldn't have happened..."
Kanjuro looked up, his gaze sweeping over the two girls. The gentleness he had shown Yuigahama vanished instantly, replaced by an unquestionable majesty carrying a sinister chill. His voice wasn't loud, but it reached their ears clearly, carrying an invisible pressure:
"You are not to tell anyone about what just happened. Not a single word." He paused, his eyes sharp as knives. "Otherwise... don't blame me for being unkind. Understood?"
Yumiko flinched at the coldness in his eyes and nodded vigorously, her voice tearful: "U-Understood! Husband Kanjuro, we definitely won't say anything! Yui... Yui only did it to save you..."
Ebina also quickly lowered her head, responding submissively, "Yes, Lord Kanjuro, we understand."
"Alright," Kanjuro interrupted them, his tone sounding somewhat impatient; he needed to handle the scene quickly. "I'll take care of things here. You two head back first and act as if nothing happened. Participate in the next activities normally. Yumiko, take care of Ebina."
Yumiko wanted to say something more, perhaps about helping with the body or comforting Yuigahama, but under Kanjuro's unquestionable gaze, she swallowed all her words. She could only timidly pull Ebina along, and the two of them supported each other as they hurried away from this suffocating, bloody place with unsteady steps, almost as if they were fleeing.
Watching their figures disappear into the depths of the woods, Kanjuro finally withdrew his gaze. He gently helped up Yui Yuigahama, who was nearly limp in his arms, and said softly, "Alright, it's just us now, Yui. Don't be afraid, Papa is here."
He half-supported, half-carried the dazed Yuigahama while calmly scanning the scene. He walked to Hube Sho's corpse, knelt down, and performed a quick, efficient check. After confirming the death, there was no emotion in his eyes, as if he were merely processing an inconsequential object.
Utilizing the surrounding environment, he quickly and professionally cleared away any traces he might have left—footprints, signs of a struggle, and any blood Yuigahama might have dripped. He found some personal items on Hube Sho and, after a brief thought, put them in his pocket to create some potentially misleading clues. Then, with some effort, he dragged Hube Sho's body deep into a denser thicket and roughly covered it with fallen leaves and branches. At the very least, it wouldn't be easily discovered before dawn.
After finishing all this, he patted his hands as if he had just completed a routine task. He returned to the still-shivering, hollow-eyed Yui Yuigahama and pulled her back into his arms.
"See, it's all taken care of." His tone was light, as if he hadn't just buried a corpse but a bag of trash. "No one will know. This was just an accident—an accident caused when a bad man tried to hurt us and my precious daughter tried to protect her Papa. Do you remember that, Yui?"
Yui Yuigahama looked up, her eyes misty as she stared at Kanjuro's face, which remained handsome under the moonlight but seemed to be veiled in a layer of shadow. His words were like a brand, engraved over and over into her chaotic mind.
(An accident... protecting Papa... no one will know...)
The massive psychological shock and Kanjuro's continuous psychological suggestion caused her brain to start passively accepting this "fact." The guilt still existed, but it was being covered by a twisted sense of "justification" and her dependence on Kanjuro.
Like a soul-less puppet, she allowed Kanjuro to lead her as she stumbled away from the woods where the murder had just occurred. Kanjuro led her not to find a water source to wash up, but toward a more remote corner of the lodging area. He needed to find an absolutely safe place to continue "comforting" and "consolidating" his newly blood-stained, most important "masterpiece."
The night was deep, and the forest wind whimpered as if mourning the passing of a youth and foreshadowing the complete fall of a soul. Kanjuro did not take Yui Yuigahama back to the lodging area. Instead, relying on his memory, he found a relatively hidden small waterfall in the nearby mountain woods. The waterfall wasn't high, but the flow was quite rapid, crashing into the clear pool below with a continuous, deafening roar, kicking up a mist that shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
It was secluded enough to isolate them from everything.
"Come, Yui, let's wash you clean first." Kanjuro's voice sounded somewhat surreal amidst the sound of the water, yet it carried an irresistible gentleness. He supported the nearly incapacitated Yui Yuigahama and had her sit on a large, smooth rock by the pool.
Yui Yuigahama was still in a state of massive psychological shock, her eyes hollow and her body instinctively curled up, trembling slightly. She allowed Kanjuro to move her like a doll.
Kanjuro knelt down and, without the slightest hesitation, began to unbutton her coat, which was stained with dark red blood. His movements were extremely meticulous, as if he were completing a vital ritual. His fingertips occasionally and inevitably brushed against her warm skin, carrying the chill of the water droplets.
Yui Yuigahama flinched violently, but it wasn't from the cold or shyness; it was a deeper shudder originating from her soul. She looked up, her tear-stained face revealing a confused and fragile gaze as she stared blankly at Kanjuro, who was inches away.
He was focused on using a wet handkerchief to carefully wipe away the dried, darkened blood on her arm. The water washed away the crimson and seemed to take with it some of the suffocating fear. His gaze was so intent, his brow slightly furrowed, as if the only thing in the world that mattered was restoring her cleanliness.
His fingertips brushed over her neck, her shoulders, her arms... every inch of skin that was wiped seemed to be reinjected with warmth—a strange, dependent warmth that even carried a hint of desecration, spreading quietly from where he touched her.
The roar of the waterfall isolated them from the outside world and amplified the voices within. In this secluded cage constructed of water curtains, Yui Yuigahama's chaotic thoughts seemed to be cleansed by the sound, leaving only the most core and naked emotions.
(He is protecting me...)
(He is taking care of me...)
(For my sake, he handled such a terrifying matter...)
(And I... for him... I killed someone...)
This realization struck her again like a thunderbolt, but this time, it was no longer accompanied by pure fear and guilt, but also a twisted, almost enlightened confirmation.
If it weren't because she cared for him beyond morality and beyond life and death, how could she have burst forth with such courage and done such a terrible thing in that critical moment?
She looked at Kanjuro's handsome profile, the tiny water droplets clinging to his long eyelashes, and his incredibly earnest expression as he wiped her clean... An emotion mixing adoration, dependency, and a strong sense of possessiveness grew wildly like vines, tightly constricting her heart.
At this moment, she realized clearly—she didn't just depend on this "father," she didn't just long for his care.
She liked him.
It was the liking of a woman for a man.
It was a burning, twisted love that transcended the boundaries of father and daughter and was unacceptable to the world.
It was precisely this feeling hidden deep in her heart, which she hadn't dared to admit even to herself, that drove her to stain her hands with blood for him.
Tears welled up again, but they were no longer simply from fear and sadness; they were complex tears mixed with realization, pain, and a bizarre sense of satisfaction. She no longer just curled up; instead, as if seeking her ultimate home, she buried herself deeper into Kanjuro's embrace, her arms tightly encircling his waist as if she wanted to melt into his very bones and blood.
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