Back inside, Jiro lies sprawled on the floor, bloodied and bruised.
The man stands over him, planting his heel into Jiro's back and dragging it slowly from left to right, trying to crush the breath from his lungs.
"Don't give up yet! I thought we were going to play all night!" He presses his heel down harder.
Seeing no signs of further resistance, the man lets out a sigh, "Oh well… I guess the fun has to end sometime. "But don't worry…" He leans down, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We'll have so much more together… ssssoon."
He lifts his foot from Jiro's back and walks toward a dresser.
Get up…
Jiro tries to rise, but his body refuses.
"You've lasted much longer than all my other toys. But it wouldn't be fair to put you back in the box in such pristine condition. They would all get quite jealous… So we're going to do something about that."
The man reaches into the dresser and pulls out a pair of pliers.
Jiro grunts in pain as he feels the man draw nearer.
Just as the man reaches Jiro, the doors burst open. The twins from earlier are thrown through them, crashing onto their backs, defeated.
Naku steps in, streaked with sweat and blood.
"Nak…u," Jiro forces out, his voice breaking.
"And who's this supposed to be? Your grandpa?" The man scoffs, laughing.
Naku wipes blood from his forehead. "Easy, Jiro. Don't strain yourself. We're getting out of here."
"I'm afraid he won't be going anywhere. You see this one here, is mine... Go find your own."
Naku raises his gourd and takes a swig. "That's the problem with guys like you. You think everything belongs to you." He wipes his lips.
"An old man and a drunk?" He glances at the downed twins.
"Seems you're not as worn-out as you look." He settles into an offensive stance.
"Please don't bore me… it'll be a lot worse for you if you do."
Naku sways back and forth, waving a hand at the man, daring him to approach.
The man charges forward, straight at Naku.
He strikes fast—a sharp right, followed by a left. Naku slips between the slashes and glides behind him.
"So you like beating on children, huh?" Naku dodges another strike.
"Too weak to fight people your own age?"
The man turns on one foot, his kick slicing through the air toward Naku's head. Naku bends backward, teetering like he's about to fall—then snaps upright and kicks the man's back leg, sending him sprawling.
The man spins off the ground, regaining his footing.
"Not bad old man." He smirks, taking a step back, sizing Naku up again.
"I remember a story about a drunk who fought like you. Took down one of the heads… a long time ago."
Naku steps in with a strike this time, but the man evades it.
"As I recall, it didn't end too well for him, though."
A flash of anger crosses Naku's face as he drives in with another blow.
The man dodges again. "Struck a nerve, did I?" He laughs. "Don't tell me you knew him."
Naku presses the attack, sweeping the man's feet with his gourd. As he lifts off the ground, Naku follows with a spinning headbutt, hurling him into a dresser, which shatters on impact.
"I can't remember the last time someone knocked me down this much. This is getting fun indeed."
Something's off about this guy…
I can't drag this out.
Grab Jiro. Get out.
I just need an opening.
The man unleashes a flurry of strikes and kicks, faster than before—too fast, joints flexing far beyond what bone should allow.
Naku dodges each strike—until one kick finally lands.
"Getting tired already, old man? Don't stop the fun now. Surely you've got a few tricks left in those ragged sleeves."
There it is again.
Something's not right…
"I don't need tricks for punks who only fight little kids." Naku glances at Jiro and searches for an escape route.
"Uh-uh-uh. Eyes up here." He comes at him again.
Naku barely manages to slip past the barrage.
"You can leave when I'm finished… assuming you're still breathing."
There has to be another way out…
I can't drag this on.
Jiro's in bad shape.
Naku goes back on the offensive, unleashing a barrage of his own. Fists, elbows, and kicks crash down in rapid succession, each strike landing before the last one finishes, driving the man backward step by step. A final strike breaks through, sending him crashing to one knee.
"Enough. No more restraintss—let's have ssome real fun." A dark aura creeps over the man's hands as his voice cracks with pain. He falls to both knees, gripping his arms while black veins surface beneath his skin, pulsing as something inside him gathers.
This isn't good…
That darkness wasn't my imagination.
I won't be able to match it for long.
The blackened veins along his arms thicken and harden. Bone shifts beneath the skin, forcing its way into shape as pale, curved blades emerge—bladed extensions seamlessly bound to his forearms.
"Let's sssee how you handle these." He drags his now elongated tongue along the blade.
The man lunges at Naku with inhuman speed. He can barely keep up, forced to react on pure instinct, staying just ahead of the blades. A slash from the right—missed by inches. The next comes from the left, this one carving through Naku's shoulder.
"I've got you!" The man howls, sanity giving way as something else pushes through.
Damn it!
Naku centers himself, breath slow and measured. He downs the rest of his gourd and readies himself for what's coming.
The man surges forward, movements wild and feral. The tonfas slash in erratic arcs, power behind every strike as he abandons precision for sheer speed and force.
Consciousness flickers back to Jiro, just long enough to glimpse what his opponent has turned into.
What the hel…
Naku is struck again, another wild slash tears through his guard.
Nakuu…
Jiro drifts out again.
Damn it… I'm not going to last much longer like this.
Looks like I have no choice.
Naku rummages through one of his pouches and pulls out a smaller gourd, distinct from the other.
"I was hoping I wouldn't need this," he says under his breath.
Naku takes a quick swig and returns the gourd to its place.
"Can't take the pain?" His voice warps, growing more twisted by the second. "I don't think a drink isss going to help much now."
Naku's wounds seal themselves in a matter of moments, his features smoothing as though time has shifted back a few years.
"That's where you're wrong." Naku cracks his neck and stretches, moving like he hasn't in years.
"What—ki…nd of sssorcery is this?" The voice shrieks, splitting over itself.
Naku sets his stance. "Let's get this over with."
"It doesn't matter! W-we will—end you!" The scream tears out of the creature as it rushes Naku.
Naku evades the charge effortlessly, answering each attack with precise strikes of his own. His drunken sway is gone, replaced by a more focused, disciplined technique.
"You'll n-never… defeat us!" One of the blades flashes up, slicing just past Naku's face.
Naku palms the blade away, then turns the momentum back on it, cutting off one of its arms in a single motion.
"No—no—NO! I am the winner!" His voice steadies for a split second before collapsing into shrill, inhuman screeches.
"I decide—when we're—d-done… playing!"
He drops to his knees again, convulsing as something abhorrent twists inside him. He screams as dark energy floods over him once more, tearing through muscle and bone. His missing arm restores itself without pause. The power doesn't stop there, darkness continues to coil around his body, enclosing him as something far worse begins to take shape.
Naku recognizes the opening and moves before the darkness can settle.
Now's my chance!
Naku crosses the room in a blur, scoops Jiro up, and slings him over his shoulder. Without slowing, he charges the window and smashes through it, disappearing into the night.
The darkness drains out of the man all at once, snapping back inside as the room falls silent.
"H…how rude," he wheezes. "Didn't e-even stay… to finish the game." He lies on the floor, winded and battered.
The man drags himself to his feet, runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, and turns to the twins still sprawled on the floor.
"Get up, trash," he says flatly. "Clean this mess."
They come to consciousness all at once, pushing themselves to their feet slowly, their earlier poise dulled, before nodding in near-unison.
"Yes, master."
"And I want them found," he says quietly. "See that it's done. Don't fail me like the last two."
He leaves the room without another glance.