The date invitation from Koizumi Akako did not surprise Kanjuro. He seemed to have anticipated that his proud daughter, after experiencing despair, would resort to some extreme measure. With the interest of examining a new toy, he readily accepted the invitation.
The location chosen was a stylish, retro café named "YUKURO." The afternoon sun streamed through the glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the wooden floor. The air was filled with the rich aroma of coffee beans and soothing jazz music, a stark contrast to the undercurrent of danger surging between the two people.
When Kanjuro and Koizumi Akako walked into the café side by side, Inaho Shin, the Manager who was wiping cups behind the counter, suddenly froze. He looked up at Kanjuro's handsome face, which sent a chill down his spine, and then at the girl beside Kanjuro—with long purplish-red hair, exquisite features, and a faint demonic aura—and his face showed unconcealable surprise and a hint of worry.
He couldn't help but turn his head and whisper to the elegant, golden-haired female student beside him—Kagawa Kuroe, the Sora Academy Student Council President: "Do young people nowadays really like following a guy like Kanjuro so much? Which naive little girl is this now..."
Kuroe was organizing the account books. Hearing this, she looked up toward Kanjuro. A deep sense of dread and helplessness flashed in her blue eyes. She sighed softly, her voice pleasant but heavy. "Manager, you simply don't know how terrifying Kanjuro is... He is not someone an ordinary person can provoke."
Inaho Shin scratched his head, looking troubled. "Of course, I know he's not simple! This Fiend brings different women to our shop every so often. What can we do? We can't exactly kick him out, can we?" His tone was full of disapproval for Kanjuro's actions, yet also resignation.
Kanjuro seemed completely oblivious to their conversation, or rather, he simply didn't care. His gaze remained fixed on Koizumi Akako beside him, his face bearing that perfectly measured, inscrutable, gentle smile.
The two sat down at a quiet, window-side table. Koizumi Akako had deliberately dressed up today, trading her usual school uniform for a dark red dress that enhanced her mysterious aura, making her look even more seductive and charming. She tried hard to maintain a calm facade, even attempting to muster a slightly shy smile appropriate for a "date" atmosphere, but her slightly trembling fingertips and the tension and resolve deep within her eyes, which she couldn't fully conceal, still betrayed her inner turmoil.
"The Blue Mountain Coffee here is quite good. I recommend you try it." Kanjuro naturally picked up the menu, introducing items to Koizumi Akako like a considerate date, his tone relaxed and ordinary.
"O-okay... I'll listen to Father." Koizumi Akako struggled to make her voice sound compliant, but the way she used that address still carried a hint of imperceptible stiffness.
Kanjuro seemed not to notice, smiling as he placed their order with Inaho Shin, who had approached the table, acting as naturally as any ordinary customer. Inaho Shin kept a straight face, wrote down the order, and turned to leave, unwilling to linger for even a moment.
While waiting for the coffee, Kanjuro casually draped his arm over the back of the chair, his posture languid, yet his gaze was like the finest measuring scale, gauging every subtle change in Koizumi Akako's expression.
"Why did you suddenly decide to ask me out today?" he asked softly, his voice deep and magnetic, seemingly laced with temptation.
Koizumi Akako's heart skipped a beat. She forced herself to meet his gaze and spoke according to her prepared script: "I just... I just realized some things. Perhaps... Father, you were right. Resisting my own origin only causes more pain. I... I want to try and understand you more." A blush appeared on her cheeks at the appropriate moment; her acting was impeccable.
The corner of Kanjuro's mouth twitched upward imperceptibly, his smile profound and inscrutable.
"Is that so? That's good." He picked up the coffee the waiter had just delivered and took a delicate sip, his movements graceful. "What do you want to understand about me?"
"Many things..." Koizumi Akako lowered her head, using the act of stirring her coffee to hide the calculation in her eyes. "For example... what kind of women do you... Father, prefer?" As she asked this, she felt her cheeks burning, partly from acting, and partly from genuine shame.
Hearing this, Kanjuro chuckled lightly and leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them. His deep eyes locked onto her.
"What's this? My Akako, are you starting to take an interest in Father's preferences?" His words carried a clear hint of suggestion and provocation, his gaze burning as if it could pierce her clothes and see the fiercely struggling heart beneath her skin.
Koizumi Akako felt a suffocating pressure, almost unable to maintain the smile on her face. She could feel it—Kanjuro saw right through her. He must have seen through her! But instead of exposing her, he seemed to be playing along with her performance, enjoying the cat-and-mouse game.
This "date," taking place in a cozy café, appeared calm on the surface but was turbulent underneath. One party, harboring a resolute plan of Patricide, proceeded cautiously step by step; the other, seeing everything clearly, enjoyed the pleasure of watching the prey walk into the net. The aroma of coffee filling the air seemed mixed with a hint of conspiracy and danger. Inaho Shin and Kuroe watched worriedly from a distance, powerless to change anything, only able to witness the dangerous darkness once again enveloping their small haven of peace. Kanjuro's provocative and scrutinizing counter-question was like an invisible needle, probing Koizumi Akako's taut nerves. She felt as if she were dancing on the tip of a knife, where every step could lead to eternal damnation. But the arrow had left the bow; she had to continue this perilous act.
She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the dryness in her throat and the frantic pounding of her heart. She raised her eyes, filled with demonic charm and carefully manufactured shyness, meeting Kanjuro's gaze, which seemed to pierce her soul.
"I like... someone like Father." she whispered, her voice trembling just right, as if she had mustered immense courage. "Powerful, mysterious... someone you can't help but want to get close to, want to... understand more." She deliberately emphasized "understand more," her shifting gaze hinting at a desire for exploration beyond ordinary boundaries.
The playful smile on Kanjuro's lips deepened slightly. He leaned back against the chair at his leisure, his fingertips lightly tapping the table, producing a rhythmic sound.
"Aren't we 'dating' and 'understanding' each other right now?" He deliberately misinterpreted her meaning, enjoying watching her step further into the net he had woven.
Koizumi Akako knew he was feigning ignorance and cursed him silently as a "Demon," yet a slightly petulant expression, fitting her Tsundere persona, appeared on her face. She pouted slightly, turned her face away, and spoke with a hint of willful arrogance:
"Here... this certainly doesn't count! How can such an ordinary place be considered a real date?"
She paused, then, as if having made a great decision, turned back. Her gaze was fervent toward Kanjuro, her cheeks flushed, and her voice was lowered, carrying an undeniable suggestion:
"I'm talking about... going somewhere quieter, more private, a place just for the two of us... Father, you're so smart, you must know what I mean, right?"
Her gaze was bold and direct, filled with temptation and provocation that crossed the boundaries of father and daughter. The subtext was practically screaming—a place where they would be undisturbed and where any act of "deep understanding" could occur.
Kanjuro watched her performance, a hint of understanding and unsurprised mockery flashing in his eyes. Of course, he understood. From the moment he stepped into the café and saw Koizumi Akako's carefully dressed but resolutely determined gaze, he had roughly guessed the most extreme "method" she might employ, which was also the one most aligned with his expectations.
He chuckled softly, his laughter deep and magnetic, carrying the pleasure of total control. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he unhurriedly picked up his coffee cup and drank the last bit of slightly cooled liquid, his movements as elegant as if completing a ritual.
Only after setting down the cup did he turn his gaze back to Koizumi Akako, who was nervously awaiting his response. His deep eyes held naked appreciation and cruelty, like watching prey willingly walk into a trap.
"Of course, I do." His thin lips parted, clearly uttering two words, his tone flat yet carrying a chilling certainty.
He leaned forward slightly, across the small coffee table, drawing close to Koizumi Akako. He spoke in a voice only they could hear, like a lover's whisper, yet utterly devoid of warmth:
"A hotel, is that it?"
These three words were like a key, instantly opening Pandora's Box and completely tearing away the veil of false affection between them.
Koizumi Akako's body stiffened imperceptibly. Although this was the direction she had actively guided the conversation toward, having Kanjuro state it so bluntly and calmly still sent a chill of coldness and shame through her. She forced herself not to retreat, instead meeting his icy gaze and nodding firmly, her eyes mixing the desperation of burning her bridges with a hint of subtle fear.
"Mm..." She uttered a nearly inaudible syllable, confirming it.
Kanjuro received a definitive answer, and the smile on his face grew deeper and more dangerous. He straightened up, took out his wallet, and casually pulled out a few bills, placing them on the table—enough to cover the coffee and a generous tip.
"Then... as you wish." He stood up and extended his hand to Koizumi Akako, his posture like a prince inviting a princess to leave a ball, except the destination of this "ball" would be a dark den filled with conspiracy and bloodshed.
Koizumi Akako looked at the hand extended toward her as if she were seeing an invitation to hell. She took a deep breath, suppressing all the fear, hesitation, and moral struggle within her, and placed her cold, slightly trembling hand into Kanjuro's palm.
A forbidden pact, with her body as the stake and a hotel room as the stage, destined to be filled with betrayal and death, was officially sealed. Kanjuro led Koizumi Akako, who was disguised as prey, out of the cafe under the complex and worried gazes of Inaho Shin and Kuroe, heading toward that "place they understood." Sunlight fell upon them, yet it could not disperse the thick, inseparable aura of darkness that followed them like a shadow. Inside the luxury suite on the top floor of the hotel, heavy curtains blocked out all light and sound from the outside world, leaving only the dim, ambiguous glow of the bedside lamp to outline the intertwined silhouettes of lust and conspiracy in the air.
Everything proceeded according to Koizumi Akako's frantic plan. She surrendered her first time, using all her acting skills to feign sinking into pleasure and compliance amidst waves of pain and humiliation. During their physical intimacy, she could feel Kanjuro's seemingly lazy but ever-present abyss-like control, making every second feel like suffering in purgatory.
--- When everything finally settled, only the sound of their seemingly steady breathing remained in the room. Kanjuro's eyes were closed as if he had fallen into a deep sleep; his face appeared calm and handsome in the shadows, completely defenseless.
Now is the time!
Koizumi Akako let out a silent scream in her heart. All the humiliation, all the pain, and all the resentment toward fate transformed into the purest killing intent at this moment! She moved her body soundlessly, her cold fingers reaching like a venomous snake for the dagger hidden under the pillow—an ancient cursed blade steeped in poison capable of corroding even the soul.
When her fingertips touched that cold, familiar hilt, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. No hesitation, no delay! She suddenly flipped over and sat up, using all her strength and a lifetime of learned precision to thrust the blade, shimmering with an ominous spectral light, ruthlessly and resolutely toward Kanjuro's exposed, seemingly defenseless heart!
This strike was fast, accurate, and ruthless! it condensed all her magic, hatred, and determination to perish together! She could even see the image of the blade sinking into flesh, the curse poison exploding instantly, and Kanjuro's face filled with shock and pain!
However—
Just as the tip of the blade was about to touch his skin, time seemed to freeze.
Kanjuro didn't even open his eyes.
He simply raised his right hand casually, as if brushing away dust. The movement appeared slow and elegant, yet it arrived first, precisely catching the blade of the dagger—imbued with lethal curse poison—between two fingers: his index and middle fingers!
...Ding...
An extremely faint yet chillingly crisp metallic chime rang out in the deathly silent room.
That ultimate strike, which condensed all of Koizumi Akako's power and was enough to slay gods and demons, was effortlessly frozen in mid-air, as if he were catching a falling feather. The spectral light of the curse poison swirling on the blade seemed to meet its nemesis the moment it touched Kanjuro's fingers; it let out a faint wail, then suddenly extinguished and dissipated.
The resolution and the madness of nearly succeeding on Koizumi Akako's face froze instantly, transforming into extreme, unbelievable horror! Her pupils dilated to their limit as she stared fixedly at those two fingers that seemed to contain infinite power, and at Kanjuro's slowly opening eyes—eyes that held no hint of sleepiness, only a bottomless, profound darkness.
He looked at her with a gaze as calm as still water, without anger or surprise, only a soul-crushing indifference that suggested he had anticipated everything.
"It seems," Kanjuro spoke, his voice carrying a hint of post-sleep laziness yet remaining bone-chillingly cold, "that the 'gift' my dear daughter has given her father isn't very friendly."
He applied a slight pressure with his fingertips.
Crack!
The dagger, made of special materials and imbued with an ancient curse poison, actually shattered inch by inch like fragile glass starting from where his fingers held it! It turned into countless shimmering fragments that rustled as they fell, scattering across the expensive bedsheets and completely shattering all of Koizumi Akako's hope and will to resist.
Koizumi Akako froze in place, her arm still in a thrusting posture. She looked like her soul had been snatched away, leaving only a hollow shell covered in cold sweat and fear. Failure... a complete, utter, and undeniable failure! She had paid the most agonizing price, only to receive an effortless, absolute crushing of power in return!
Kanjuro released his fingers, letting the last of the metal debris flutter down. He slowly sat up, showing off his perfect physique without a care, his gaze like cold chains wrapping around the completely broken Koizumi Akako.
"You thought your plan could be hidden from me?" He tilted his head slightly, a hint of mockery in his tone. "From the moment you sent the invitation, every look in your eyes, every accelerated heartbeat, and every trace of abnormal magic flow was within my perception."
He reached out—not to attack, but to gently lift Koizumi Akako's pale, despairing face with his fingertips, forcing her to look at him.
"Now, do you understand?" His voice was low, like a final judgment. "In the face of absolute power, any conspiracy or sacrifice is merely a futile joke."
Koizumi Akako stared at him blankly, her lips trembling, but she couldn't make a sound. Tears mixed with humiliation, fear, and a total sense of powerlessness slid down silently. She had lost; she had lost everything, including her body, her dignity, and her last shred of courage to resist.
Kanjuro leaned down and whispered into her ear with a voice as tender and cruel as a demon's:
"However, this courage to'slay your father' actually makes me... appreciate you even more, my Akako."
These words were like the final straw that broke the camel's back, completely destroying Koizumi Akako's psychological defenses. She slumped onto the messy bed like a doll discarded after being broken, her eyes left with nothing but a hollow, deathly stillness.
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