***

Then came Saturday. 

I mean, that Saturday. A week to the day since Atsushi and Akutagawa had shown up at my place.

Like I could forget.

I was pissed off, hungover, and wrung out, but I still dragged myself to the ‘tree with the red ribbon’—mine and that bastard Dazai’s old Double Black meeting spot, back when we didn’t want the Mafia knowing our plans. An old cryptomeria tree near a Shinto shrine, its trunk wrapped in a ribbon to ward off evil spirits.

“You parked sideways across the road, Chuuya. How on Earth did you even get a license?”

Dazai stood under the tree, a shadow among shadows.

“Oh, look at you. Mister fucking observant. Mister knows-everything.”

“And what, you didn’t show up hanging upside down?”

Even for Dazai, that was a dumb joke. I snapped back,

“You see a fucking ceiling here, dipshit?”

“And you’re absolutely wasted.”

“Wow, so... perceptive,” I slurred, wobbling on my feet. “You know... how much I drank... just to not come here?”

“I can guess,” he said coolly. “You reek like a damn distillery.”

“And yet... here I am. Why? Tell me, since I already know I’ll get nothing but bullshit from you. You’ll say everyone makes mistakes, that you didn’t expect things to go this bad. That you never wanted your precious little apprentice—”

“No, I pretty much saw this coming,” he cut in. “Trolley problem, Chuuya. Someone has to take responsibility. See, there are difficult challenges in this line of work. Like back in the Double Black days.”

Dazai was acting weird — amped up, even though he was pretending to be calm. And what the hell was he bringing up Double Black for now?

“You’re emotional, Chuuya,” he went on. “But it’s time you understand that sometimes, sacrifices have to be made. ‘You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.’ You know that maxim?”

I got his meaning loud and clear.

“So what, people don’t matter to you at all? Break a toy, and fuck it, who cares?”

Dazai frowned.

“Did Mori never teach you not to ask questions when you don’t want the answer?”

Maybe I didn’t want to hear any more of his shit. Fuck this. I had a couple of bottles waiting for me at home, and two dumbass kids who, for some reason, actually needed me. I stepped back toward my car — yeah, the one I parked like a moron.

Before I left, I still tried to knock some sense into this asshole:

“Ever wonder why, despite your ability to crawl up anyone’s ass without lube, you don’t have many people left who let you push them around? I’ll tell you why: you gotta take care of your toys, dumbass. But you? You break them with your own shitty hands. And broken toys aren’t fun anymore, huh? Not as fun playing with soldiers when they ain’t got legs, right? Oh, what’s that? The little musical teddy bear doesn’t play its tune anymore? Maybe it’s ‘cause you gutted the damn thing? And you just go, "Nah, whatever, piece of crap was probably cheap, made in China, flea market garbage..."

“Your metaphors, Chuuya, while impressively vivid, do tend to get repetitive...”

“You can shove your fucking critique up your ass.”

“...But, of course, I understand why this bothers you so much.” Dazai smirked, lazy and indifferent. “Don’t worry. I’d never tear your legs off. I need you. You’re my favorite toy… A toy that never breaks.”

“The fuck..?”

He said that shit so solemnly that for a second, I thought he meant something more than just mockery. But no, there was no mistaking his words. It was like a fist slammed into my gut — I thought of Atsushi yesterday, bawling into my shoulder, and Akutagawa’s empty stare, like he’d be stuck wandering the back alleys of his own mind forever, lost with no way out. A whole flood of other shit came rushing back, too. It felt almost as bad as yesterday, when I’d nearly started sobbing with that poor idiot Atsushi. Hell, it even sobered me up a bit.

I punched him square in the face — full force, no holding back. Something crunched in his jaw, his head jerked like a damn puppet, slamming into a tree. Blood dribbled from his mouth… and that piece of shit smiled.

“Not bad. Wanna hit me again?”

No need to ask. Not only did I want to — I fucking did. Again, and again.

“Fucking enough! ” I was yelling at this point. “Have you ever taken anything in your life seriously?! Stop treating people like fucking chess pieces! I’m sick of your shit, you goddamn wannabe grandmaster!”

Dazai finally raised his hands in defense and backed off — otherwise, I swear to God, I would’ve beaten him to death right there.

I lunged at him again… and slammed into a wall. Literally. Some kind of greenish, translucent barrier appeared right in front of me. The second I touched it, sparks crackled across its surface, shocking the hell out of me and throwing me backward. Behind me? Same shit. To my sides? More of it. Even above me.

A cage. A fucking electric cage.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck?!”

I smashed my fists against the barrier, this time with all my strength, enough force to shatter concrete. Nothing. It didn’t budge — only crackled louder.

Alright, what about below? I made my body heavy as a star, ready to sink into the ground, dive deep enough, then launch out somewhere else. But my feet didn’t go under. The same invisible wall was beneath me, too.

I was completely trapped.

Dazai watched me struggle with a calm, almost clinical curiosity — like some scientist observing a lab rat.

Then, stepping out from the shadows of the trees, came three girls I’d never seen before — identical, like peas in a pod. They wore old-fashioned, frilly dresses with stiff collars, chestnut curls peeking from beneath their bonnets.

I had a bad fucking feeling about this.

"Three girls… speak English… reddish-brown hair, look like sisters… talk in a weird way, like they’re thinking as one… around Akutagawa’s age," Kouyou’s words echoed in my head.

“Thank you...”

“…for your cooperation…”

“…Mr. Ikita.”

They spoke in sync, like some freaky three-headed monster.

Who the fuck is “Mr. Ikita”?!

Dazai gave them a deep, gentlemanly bow.

“Always a pleasure, ladies. Do whatever you want with Chuuya Nakahara. Now, about my humble payment?”

“The money...”

“…has already been transferred…”

“…to your account.”

“You!” I roared. “You fucking sold me out to them?!”

“Yup.” Dazai didn’t even try to deny it.

“You absolute piece of shit!”

“Oh, look at that, it came through.” He pulled out his phone, checked something, and gave a satisfied nod. “Thank you for your punctuality.”

“You should be thanking…”

“…not us…”

“…but our boss.”

“Oh, of course. My deepest gratitude to her as well.”

“She wants…”

“…to speak with you…”

“…personally.”

“Personally? As much as I’d love to, I hear she’s in England right now.”

“That’s what…”

“…video calls…”

“…are for.”

I’m a fucking idiot. Even though this was obvious as hell, I couldn’t bring myself to believe Dazai really sold me out for money. Money never meant shit to him. But playing goddamn 5D chess, towering above the pathetic little bugs scrambling below? That turn him on enough to cum like a fountain.

I was actually no different from those two poor bastards, Akutagawa and Atsushi — still believing in Dazai, even when he was bashing my skull in with a rock.

This had to be some kind of scheme. The fake name, the weird setup — he wasn’t luring me into a trap, he was setting up these electric bitches. Probably counting on me to wreck them.

But they were crazy strong. Stronger than any gifted I’d ever faced. Maybe working as a trio boosted their power, but even if I were sober, I don’t think I could’ve broken out.

Unless… I used Corruption. Nothing could withstand that. No barrier, no power, no force on Earth. Corruption was a black hole that devoured everything. A portal to hell, Doom and Painkiller having a happy little baby. Atsushi, with all his righteous bullshit about sins and darkness, would shit himself if he saw me at full power.

But to use Corruption… I’d have to trust him.

Dazai’s smirking face flashed in my mind. "You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs... You’re a toy that never breaks."

No. Fucking. Way.

I wasn’t dying. I wasn’t even getting my ribs stomped in. I was just captured. You know that dumb saying, “Even if you get eaten, there’s always two ways out”? Well, Corruption was definitely the shittier exit. And no guarantee Dazai would even help if I went for it. And if he wouldn’t help, then I’m done for.

So I decided to wait and see what the second exit was.

I straightened up, crossed my arms, and put on the most dignified stance I could muster:

“No idea who you are or what you want, ladies, but I’m all yours.

“Thank you, Mr. Nakahara..."

“If you don’t mind, we’ll turn you off now..."

“…to make transport easier."

"The fuck kind of transport—"

Before I could say this aloud, the electric cage tightened. I screamed — then blacked out.

The last thing I saw before darkness swallowed me was Dazai’s face.

And the smug bastard looked pleased as hell.