The helicopter did not fly directly to the mountainous region where the Twilight Mansion was located. Kanjuro first arrived at a private airport near Tokyo Bay, where he transferred to a smaller jet with greater endurance, its interior modified to resemble a luxurious aerial palace. This journey required time, and Kanjuro chose a route that required a stopover at a specific international airport to pick up'special supplies' he needed from Europe.
The plane flew smoothly in the stratosphere, the outside view showing an endless expanse of azure blue and a sea of white clouds. Inside the cabin, Kanjuro sat alone on a wide leather seat, holding an ancient sheepskin scroll with no title on the cover. He appeared to be reading, but his spirit was already faintly connected to the dark pulse emanating from a distant place.
After refueling at the scheduled international airport, the plane took off again. However, this time, shortly after the plane reached cruising altitude, the door connecting the passenger cabin to the forward compartment was gently pushed open. It was not a flight attendant, but two faces Kanjuro did not expect, though they were not entirely unfamiliar.
Leading the way was a tall, competent-looking young man with meticulously combed short brown hair. His face was handsome but currently tense, his sharp eyes mixed with a shock and vigilance he tried desperately to conceal—Saguru Hakuba.
Following closely behind was a young woman dressed in an exquisitely modified Kimono outfit. Her long black hair was pinned up, her features beautiful, with a hint of aristocratic pride and curiosity in her eyes. The moment she saw Kanjuro sitting alone in the cabin, she clearly paused, a flash of undisguised amazement crossing her eyes, but she was immediately affected by her companion's tense aura and blinked in confusion—Ooka Momiji.
Their appearance was clearly an unexpected event. Kanjuro had chartered this plane through complex channels; theoretically, there should have been no other passengers. The only explanation was some kind of 'coincidence' or 'arrangement' in airport scheduling or intermediate handling. Kanjuro almost instantly dismissed the possibility of a pure accident, calmly scanning the two of them, his gaze lingering for a moment on Saguru Hakuba's forcedly composed face.
Saguru Hakuba's heart hammered in his chest. As a high school detective and the son of the Superintendent General of the Police Agency, he had access to far more classified information than ordinary people. He had long heard rumors about the name 'Kanjuro' and the series of horrifying, unpublicizable incidents linked to him (though details were highly classified). These fragmented pieces of information pieced together a vague but deeply unsettling outline: a 'demon' who commanded dark power, collected women, used cruel methods, and treated law and morality as nothing. He never expected to confront this legendary figure here, in this manner. What made his scalp tingle even more was that they seemed to be heading to the same destination—the Twilight Mansion, a place his own Father spoke of only in hushed tones.
Ooka Momiji, however, felt entirely different. She had heard some bizarre rumors about Kanjuro, but coming from an established family, she believed in seeing things for herself. The man before her, leaning back in his seat, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, his profile almost unrealistically handsome under the cabin's soft lighting, possessing a lazy yet elegant aura, holding an antique book that looked incredibly tasteful... How could this be the legendary demon? He was clearly an extremely charming noble, even more outstanding than any young master from a prominent family she had ever met. If it weren't for Saguru Hakuba's instantaneous stiffening and his aura of facing a great enemy, she would have assumed this was just a wonderful chance encounter during a journey.
The brief silence was broken by Kanjuro.
He closed the scroll and looked up, his gaze calm as he looked at the somewhat flustered pair standing in the aisle, a faint, almost polite smile touching the corner of his lips.
"It seems this journey won't be too boring," his voice was gentle, betraying no hint of aggression. "Young Master Hakuba, and Young Lady Ooka. A pleasure to meet you."
He paused, his eyes lightly sweeping over their faces, as if mentioning something casually:
"Judging by the direction, it seems we are going to the same place?"
The tone of this question was flat, yet it instantly caused cold sweat to break out on Saguru Hakuba's back. He was going to the Twilight Mansion after receiving an invitation from a mysterious person (whom he suspected was connected to the Organization), driven by a detective's curiosity and sense of duty. Ooka Momiji was going nearby for some family business and he had persuaded her to accompany him (or rather, he needed a'shield' that wouldn't arouse too much suspicion). Neither of them knew Kanjuro would be on this plane, let alone that he was also heading to the Twilight Mansion!
"Mr... Mr. Ye?" Saguru Hakuba forced himself to calm down, using a vague term of respect to conceal the turmoil within. "I didn't expect to meet you here. We are indeed heading in that direction... to visit an elder." He tried to keep his purpose vague and personal.
Although Ooka Momiji sensed the atmosphere was off, Kanjuro's appearance and demeanor held a strange attraction for her. She couldn't help but speak, her voice crisp, "Is Mr. Ye also attending the gathering at the Twilight Mansion? I heard there's a very special event happening there recently." She was more driven by curiosity, even harboring a desire to strike up a conversation with this handsome gentleman.
Kanjuro chuckled softly, not directly answering Ooka Momiji's question, but picking up the wordless scroll again, his tone still calm:
"A gathering? Perhaps. However, the 'activities' at the Twilight Mansion are never just a simple gathering." He looked up, his gaze meaningful as he looked at Saguru Hakuba, "Especially for an overly curious detective, that place... is very easy to get lost in."
Saguru Hakuba felt a chill crawl up his spine. Kanjuro's words sounded like a warning, yet also like a teasing remark from someone who had long since seen through his motives. He forced a smile and said, "Mr. Ye, you must be joking. We are merely invited guests and won't meddle in things that don't concern us."
"I hope so," Kanjuro said indifferently. He then stopped looking at them and returned his attention to the book in his hand, as if the two were merely insignificant interludes. "The journey is still long; please, suit yourselves."
This was clearly a gesture of dismissal.
Saguru Hakuba felt as if he had been granted a great reprieve. He quickly pulled Momiji, who still seemed to want to say something, and whispered, "Momiji, let's go back to our seats first." He almost forced the confused and somewhat reluctant Ooka Momiji away from the cabin area where Kanjuro was.
Only after returning to the relatively private front cabin seats did Saguru Hakuba breathe a sigh of relief, finding his palms drenched in sweat.
"Hakuba, who exactly is That Man? Why are you so nervous?" Ooka Momiji asked in confusion. "He's so handsome and has such a good aura; how could he be a bad person? And he seems to know us too?"
Seeing Ooka Momiji's defenseless and even slightly infatuated expression toward Kanjuro's appearance, alarm bells rang in Saguru Hakuba's heart. He lowered his voice and said with utmost seriousness, "Momiji, remember, stay away from That Man! The further, the better! He... he is the 'Kanjuro' I mentioned to you before!"
Ooka Momiji covered her mouth, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Him? But... he doesn't look like that at all..."
"Devils are often best at disguising themselves," Saguru Hakuba said bitterly, recalling fragments of encrypted files in his father's study and recent hushed rumors of missing women in Tokyo's high society. "He's going to the Twilight Mansion... it seems the 'gathering' there will be a hundred times more perilous than we imagined. Momiji, once we arrive, you must stay close to me. You absolutely cannot act alone, and especially... do not approach Kanjuro!"
Seeing the unprecedented gravity in Saguru Hakuba's expression, Ooka Momiji finally realized the severity of the situation and nodded. However, in her mind, the brief glimpse of Kanjuro's elegant smile and handsome face refused to fade, overlapping strangely and dangerously with the label of "devil."
In the rear cabin, Kanjuro slowly turned a page of a book that contained no text, a flicker of cold interest crossing his eyes.
"A detective... a young lady from a prestigious family... the 'gathering' at the Twilight Mansion seems to be getting more and more lively," he murmured to himself. "That's fine. The more spectators there are, the more magnificent this final performance dedicated to the 'king of crows' of the old era will be."
The plane pierced through the clouds, flying unwaveringly toward the mountain range shrouded in legend and mist. The threads of fate forcibly dragged several people from different paths toward the same Golden Cage.
The plane flew steadily, the hum of the engines becoming a constant bass in the background. Ooka Momiji's mind was in turmoil; Saguru Hakuba's serious warning and Kanjuro's overly charming image were entangled in her head. Even more unsettling was her worry about Heiji Hattori's whereabouts—the high school detective from Kansai, someone she had always secretly cared for, had been missing for a long time, and some fragmented, disturbing rumors always seemed vaguely connected to the name "Kanjuro."
Using the excuse of needing to get something from her luggage, she left her seat and walked toward the luggage area in the rear cabin. In the narrow, dimly lit corridor, she was struggling to pull down a slightly heavy suitcase from the overhead bin when a slender, strong hand reached out from the side and easily took the suitcase down for her.
Startled, Ooka Momiji turned around and met Kanjuro's deep, smiling eyes. He was standing very close to her; the corridor space was limited to begin with, and the crisp yet dangerous scent he carried almost enveloped her.
"Th... thank you," Ooka Momiji thanked him subconsciously, her heart racing for some reason—whether from fright or something else. Holding the suitcase, she didn't leave immediately but looked up at him, her beautiful eyes a mix of sadness, anger, and a sort of desperate courage.
She took a deep breath and suddenly spoke, her voice light yet trembling with accusation: "Mr... Mr. Ye, why did you kill Heiji?"
The question was abrupt and direct, as if it had exhausted all the strength she had at that moment. She didn't use any roundabout ways or tests; as she had thought, since she had to face it sooner or later, she might as well ask clearly right here, high in the sky, in this inescapable steel passage.
The smile on Kanjuro's face seemed to pause for a moment. He raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly surprised by her bluntness and sudden attack. He didn't answer immediately but looked at her more closely, his gaze sweeping from her eyes, which were filled with tears but stubbornly refused to let them fall, over her slightly trembling lips, and finally seeming to inadvertently brush past her chest, which was heaving with emotion.
"You know my identity," Kanjuro spoke, his voice still gentle, even carrying a hint of curiosity. "Why not continue pretending not to know, or like that little detective, try your best to hide your fear and stay far away from me?"
Ooka Momiji shook her head, a tear finally sliding down, but her gaze became even more obstinate. "What's the use of pretending? What's the use of being afraid? Heiji... he might already be gone. I have to do something for him, even if it's... asking you, the murderer, to your face. I think it's better to ask clearly right here."
"Murderer?" Kanjuro softly repeated the word. He didn't deny it; instead, he smiled. That smile appeared exceptionally charming and cold in the dim light. "Very interesting courage. Well then, I'll tell you why."
He leaned in slightly, close to her ear, and whispered as if he were a lover, "Actually, the paths everyone chooses are different. Heiji Hattori was too much of an eyesore. He always tried to illuminate corners that shouldn't be lit, and track shadows that shouldn't be followed. His sense of justice, his persistence—on that rainy night, they just happened to stand in my way."
He paused, his tone as flat as if he were talking about the weather. "Besides, Kazuha likes me very much too. She feels that compared to her childhood friend, whose eyes only see cases and so-called justice, I can give her something... more profound." These words were undoubtedly like rubbing salt into Ooka Momiji's wounds; not only did he admit to killing Heiji Hattori, but he also hinted at Kazuha's "change of heart."
Ooka Momiji's body began to tremble violently, anger and grief nearly overwhelming her. She jerked her head up, glaring at Kanjuro, and blurted out in a low shout, "Then you might as well kill me too! Since Heiji is gone, I..."
"There's no need," Kanjuro interrupted her near-self-destructive impulse. His gaze fell on her face again, this time with a clearer, playful appreciation, lingering for a moment on her cheeks, flushed with emotion, and her curves, which appeared fuller with her rapid breathing.
"Actually," his voice lowered, carrying a strange, almost bewitching magnetic quality, "I really want to play around with pure feelings with you."
These words were like a bolt from the blue, leaving Ooka Momiji stunned on the spot. Pure... feelings? Coming from the mouth of a man who had just personally admitted to killing her childhood friend and was called a devil?
"You... what do you mean?" Her voice was dry, and her chaotic emotions left her unable to think.
Kanjuro straightened up, creating a bit of distance, but his gaze remained locked on her. "Literally. You are very special, Ooka Momiji. Your pride, your straightforwardness, even this courage born of hatred... they are all very interesting. While killing and conquering are certainly pleasurable, occasionally experiencing a more 'normal' emotional entanglement might have a different flavor."
He reached out, his fingertips almost touching her cheek, but stopped at the last moment, merely feeling the warmth and tremors radiating from her skin across the tiny gap.
"Of course, that depends on you." He withdrew his hand, returning to his usual elegant composure. "You can continue to hate me and think about avenging Heiji Hattori. Or... you can try to accept another possibility. After all, the road to the Twilight Mansion is still long, and we have plenty of time."
After saying that, he stopped looking at her, stepped past her, and returned to his own cabin, leaving Ooka Momiji alone, clutching the cold suitcase and standing blankly under the swaying corridor light.
Hatred, sadness, humiliation, fear... and a sliver of a subtle, shameful tremor and confusion triggered by being "specially treated" by such an extremely dangerous individual—emotions she herself hadn't even noticed—mixed together, nearly tearing her apart.
Kanjuro's final words were like a poisoned seed planted in her chaotic heart. The determination to avenge Heiji battled with the confusion over the fatal attraction of the devil before her, which she couldn't entirely deny, starting a silent and dangerous tug-of-war.
The plane pierced the clouds, continuing its flight toward the Twilight Mansion. And Ooka Momiji knew that from this moment on, her journey had become incredibly complex and dangerous.
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