—"Huh…?"
The body collapsed, leaving behind a pool of blood; everyone froze in shock.
—"...Ahhh!" The scream was the only thing that snapped them back to reality. The woman who let it out couldn't hold back her tears any longer.
One Cursed One bolted for the exit, but another Ghost emerged from beneath the floor, grabbing his leg and devouring him whole, leaving nothing but blood behind.
Everyone began to retreat—until Mirio whispered, so softly it was almost imperceptible, yet all of them heard:
—"Run."
In places like this… there is never just one Ghost.
In the blink of an eye, the only sound was the pounding footsteps of the Cursed Ones echoing across the rotting wooden floor.
The atmosphere shifted in an instant: the air filled with agonizing screams, the metallic stench of blood mixing with the dampness of the walls.
Mirio charged straight toward the Ghosts, trying to cut them down as the others fled. Then, a familiar voice called out to him in desperation and anguish.
—"MIRIO!" It was Haruka, caught in the clutches of one of those monsters.
—"HARUKA!"
As he turned, a Ghost shot up from the floorboards, impaling him straight through the chest.
Takumi froze in terror. A flash of memory surged through his mind.
"Haruka is like my little sister. She's skilled and brave, but sometimes careless. If she were to die… I'd feel empty. She's been my biggest support since I arrived here."
With his last breath, Mirio looked toward Takumi and forced a smile.
—"You can…" Those were his final words, before his head was swallowed in a single bite.
Bones cracked. Flesh tore.
The creatures feasted on their comrades one by one. A Ghost lunged at Takumi, but one of the boys grabbed his hand and pulled him away.
—"RUN! DON'T JUST STAND THERE!"
He didn't know how, or why, but his legs moved, following the other boy's lead. He didn't want to leave—he wanted to help his friends—but his cowardice chained him down.
Before they could reach the exit, a giant Ghost blocked their path. The bespectacled Cursed One shoved Takumi toward safety as he was snatched up, toyed with like prey.
His screams of agony echoed through the building.
—"NO!" Takumi shouted, trying to rush back in, but the boy's voice stopped him.
—"GO! GET OUT OF HERE!" The Cursed One hurled a wooden plank at him. —"RUN!"
The last thing Takumi saw was blood soaking his friend's clothes. With one final burst of strength, his legs carried him out, his skin burning with pain.
Several Ghosts struck at him as he fled, slashing and tearing into his flesh.
Before he could reach the exit, the first Ghost pounced on him. Instinct took over—Takumi struck the creature, just enough to propel himself forward and break free.
Moonlight shone through the darkness as Takumi finally collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Meanwhile, his body had already been transported to the Exorcist Academy. Ryo had gone to fetch Kohaku.
Kohaku was in the middle of a conversation with his assistant.
—"So they went on a mission, huh?" he asked with little interest.
—"Yes… Forty-five Cursed Ones were killed," the assistant replied, worry and fear lingering in his voice.
—"Forty-five? Not a single survivor?" Kohaku asked, fiddling idly with his phone.
—"Well… there's the last Cursed One you brought back, but… he's badly injured, and he refuses to talk."
—"Oh?" He raised a brow, amused. —"A coward always survives."
He tossed all his luggage into the assistant's arms, snapping his fingers with an air of indifference.
—"Carry everything and take me to Takumi. I'd like to pay him a little visit."
—"What!? Are you sure about this?"
Resigned, the assistant hoisted the heavy bags.
—"Couldn't you carry some of these yourself?" he muttered nervously.
Kohaku shot him a sidelong glance, amused, before shrugging.
—"Why would I? You're the assistant here, not me. I'm the global exorcist—handsome, powerful. I can't dirty my hands with luggage." His arrogant smile somehow radiated charm.
Kohaku stepped into the sunlight, his white hair gleaming like gold.
—"It's going to be a wonderful day~."
The crowd caught sight of him immediately, rushing over for autographs and photos.
—"Told you—they love me," he laughed, snapping selfies with fans.
The journey dragged on, and by the time Kohaku arrived at Takumi's location, the sun was setting.
Takumi slowly stirred from unconsciousness. Nightmares still clawed at his mind.
The first thing he felt was pain.
The second, an unfamiliar ceiling.
And then… loneliness.
No voices. No laughter.
No one else.
Memories crashed down like an avalanche: the Ghosts, the screams, the blood, Mirio, Haruka…
Takumi covered his face with his hands. His body shook uncontrollably as tears streamed without end.
Every part of him ached, but nothing hurt more than his heart. He wrapped himself in the blankets, seeking refuge.
Then, the door creaked open.
A delicious aroma filled the room. The floor groaned under approaching footsteps.
And finally, a slightly raspy voice broke the silence:
—"Well, well. Who's that Pokémon? All helpless, wrapped in bandages, with that abandoned-puppy face. What a pity… though I must admit, the tragic look suits you, Takumi."
A shiver ran down Takumi's spine.
The orange glow of sunset painted the room in an almost magical scene.
But in his mind, everything was gray. Empty.
He refused to look at him.
—"…Go away…" he whispered, his throat dry.
Kohaku tilted his head, smiling.
—"Oh? Why so cold? I thought you'd be glad to see me, after… well, after what happened to your little friends."
Takumi lifted his gaze—hollow, lifeless.
—"Are you really that heartless…?"
—"Getting angry over something meaningless?" Kohaku mocked.
Takumi wanted to respond, but both body and mind betrayed him.
—"I want to leave…" he finally murmured, his voice barely audible, as though his body was burning and his voice fading away.
—"Eh? Already tired again? A few deaths and you're giving up? That's not very manly."
Cold seeped into Takumi's very core.
—"I want to go home…" His voice cracked, a broken lament. —"I don't want… to see more people die… Just leave me alone."
Kohaku let out a dramatic sigh.
—"Go back home? To live haunted by Ghosts?"
—"I SAID I WANT TO GO HOME!" Takumi screamed, tears spilling freely, still unable to push off the blanket.
Kohaku watched him silently. No cruelty in his expression now, no mockery—just faint resignation.
At last, he stood.
—"Fine. If you want to run with your tail between your legs, then go. But remember this, Takumi… The world is never kind to those who hesitate. Either you master your fears, or they'll master you."
He turned, as if to leave—but paused.
Leaning in close, his voice brushed Takumi's ear.
—"Tell me, Takumi… do you really want to sit here, waiting for something to come and devour you?"
Takumi held his breath.
Kohaku smiled, his words dropping to a whisper as he faded into the shadows of the room:
—"A guy like you will always be haunted by his choices. Was it fate that brought you here… or your own decisions?"
"You can…" Mirio's final words echoed in his memory. Haruka's scream followed like a blade through his chest.
The door shut with a soft click.
Takumi was left alone, embraced only by his own fear.
While he writhed in agony, deep within the darkness… something else was brewing.
—"Should we gather more children?" asked the red-haired man.
—"Those were Father's orders, Abaddon," replied the albino boy.
—"This is dull. As Heli, Ghost of Class E, I say this plan is a waste of time. The simplest path would be to slaughter all those exorcists."
—"That's impossible. Kohaku is far too strong."
—"You mean that bastard?"
—"Yes. He single-handedly defeated dozens of Class Satu Ghosts back when he was just a mortal."
—"Hmph… Fine. I'll kill whoever I must, as long as I get to watch him suffer."
—"Good."
The boy drank his glass of milk. The black tornado-shaped creature beside him, its ruby-red eyes glowing, stared at them in silence.
—"How beautiful Bagles are… Even corrupted, their healing radiance still lingers."
—"I know," the man replied, sipping from his glass of white wine.