A raw, piercing scream was torn from Yukikaze's lungs, a sound immediately whipped away by the roaring wind that rushed past us.
The world became a dizzying, terrifying blur of neon city lights and dark concrete rushing up to meet them at an alarming speed.
Her pink twintails and the red frills on her catsuit whipped violently around her, a chaotic storm of color against the night sky. The city that had looked like a toy set just moments ago was now a rapidly approaching death sentence.
Panic, pure and absolute, obliterated all her thoughts.
All her precious Taimanin training, all her clever strategies, were utterly useless. She was just a girl, plummeting towards the ground, held in the unyielding grip of a madman.
I felt her clawing and kicking, her struggles as meaningless as a fly caught in a spider's web, her screams swallowed by the vast, empty night. This was true terror, a far cry from the manufactured fear of her little threats.
As the pavement grew alarmingly close, I decided the lesson in mortality had gone on long enough. Using my free hand, I shot out a controlled beam of energy, a simple application of force to counteract gravity.
Our terrifying plummet abruptly slowed. The violent roaring of the wind softened to a powerful, rushing gust.
Her body, which had been tense with the expectation of a bone-shattering impact, went slack with shock.
We were... floating. Drifting down between the towering skyscrapers like a leaf on the breeze.
"Nice view, isn't it?" I remarked casually, enjoying the sensation. "The cold wind isn't bad either."
Her wide, terrified eyes flicked from the impossible sight of the city lights gliding past us to my free hand, where the beam of pulsating energy was firing downwards, cushioning our fall.
Her mortal brain simply refused to process what was happening.
This wasn't ninja arts. This wasn't anything she had ever encountered. This was something else entirely. Something godly, or monstrous.
My casual comment about the view finally registered. It was so absurd, so calm in the face of this utter insanity, that it broke through her frozen terror.
The grip on her neck was still ironclad, a constant, choking reminder of who was in control. All the fight drained out of her, replaced by a cold, dawning dread far worse than the fear of falling.
Her threats, her plan... she'd brought a knife to a nuclear war.
She stopped struggling completely, her body limp in my grasp. Her voice was a tiny, trembling whisper, barely audible over the wind.
"...Who are you? No! What... are you...?"
"Oh hoho," I chuckled, my voice deep and amused. "Starting to realize who you messed with?"
As we reached the ground, landing softly in the same grimy alley where our acquaintance began, I didn't release her.
I dragged her, stumbling and half-choking, towards a heavy metal door marked 'STORAGE' on the side of the Sky Tower.
Her heels scraped uselessly against the asphalt. Her mind was a blank slate of pure, unadulterated shock.
"Hmm," I mused, my voice dangerously soft as I kicked the door open. "What crime did you plan to put on me again?"
I hauled her inside, letting the door slam shut behind us with a deafening CLANG.
The sudden darkness was absolute, broken only by a sliver of moonlight from a high, grimy window. The air smelled of dust, old cardboard, and machine oil.
I finally released her neck, shoving her hard against a stack of wooden crates. She slid to the floor in a heap, gasping for air, her throat raw and bruised. My heavy footsteps approached in the near-darkness. I loomed over her, a monstrous silhouette against the faint light.
She flinched, scrambling backward until her back hit the cold concrete wall. Her body was trembling violently.
The bravado, the anger, it was all gone, burned away by the terrifying fall from the sky.
"N-Nothing," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I made it up, Mister. I was just angry, I didn't mean it!"
The words were true now. She had threatened a demon with a police report.
The sheer, crushing stupidity of it was dawning on her.
I could feel the shift in her body chemistry again, that familiar, traitorous heat. A hot, shameful slickness began to form between her legs, a primal, terrified response to my overwhelming power and the dark, secluded space we now shared.
"I gave you way too many chances," I sighed, the sound echoing in the dusty room. It was true. I had been patient. I had been merciful.
But her foolish pride had forced my hand. Now, the real lessons would begin.
"Now," I said, my voice dropping to a low growl. "I think a proper apology is needed."