Yuki was on her knees, shivering due to the cold—when she noticed the gleaming steel of the revolver, mere inches from her forehead. She didn't scream. Her mouth stayed shut, jaw locked so tight it hurt. Then, a scream cracked across the rain. Yuki flinched and turned, against every instinct to stay still.
Riko was being dragged backward by her hair, her legs slipping through the mud as she struggled to stay upright. She kicked, twisted, scratched—but it was all for nothing. The man dragging her didn't even flinch.
He was enormous—wide-bodied with thick arms and a belly that swelled against the buttons of his black vest. He wore a chauffeur's cap and a long, rain-slicked gray coat, but the uniform was tight and distorted by his size, almost mocking the proper one worn by—
Yuki blinked.
The real chauffeur was gone.
No—he was lying in the mud.
A few meters away, face down. A dark pool of blood was already spreading beneath his ribs, soaking into the mud. His uniform had been torn off, leaving him in just his boxers. He was sprawled near the tire tracks of the limousine. One of his gloves still clung to his hand.
"You should relax," the fat man in the stolen uniform said, leaning over Riko's shoulder with the revolver wedged between her shoulder blades.
"You feel that thing pressing into your back?" he said.
"Don't touch me!" Riko spat.
The man giggled, then shoved her head downward—but Riko fought back. Her boots dug into the mud, resisting the pressure with gritted teeth and trembling arms. Her pride burned too loudly to kneel.
"You bandits think you can threaten a sorceress of the Hoshigiri clan and expect to escape with your life?" she said.
The man in front of Yuki chuckled.
"We just want some money, that's all. Hand it over, and we'll be on our merry way," he said.
Riko's lips curled.
"You're not getting a single cent from me."
And that's when the fat man exploded.
Not literally—but in voice.
He shoved the barrel of his revolver right against Riko's head and barked:
"Hey! Don't you dare speak to our boss like that!"
The glyphs on his gun flickered white-hot.
Suddenly, Yuki heard a voice.
「First gift acquired: Knowledge from the dream world」
Yuki's eyes darted toward the sound—but then realized it was actually coming from her mind.
What? Knowledge from the dream world? she thought.
But she ignored it and turned her head to see Sasaki, standing with both hands raised like he'd just been caught by the police.
Suddenly, a sharp pain burst across her scalp.
Yuki screamed as she dropped to the ground.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!"
The Deathmark on her chest pulsated. The cloaked bandit in front of Yuki flinched and took a step back, aiming his revolver at her.
"What the hell, you scared the shit out of me! Are you trying to die or something?"
Yuki's pain was too distracting. She rolled around in the mud, fingers clawing at her scalp. And through all the chaos, Sasaki didn't move. His eyes followed her, and slowly, his grin came back.
It wasn't wide. It was subtle. Like a man quietly watching a flower bloom in a warzone.
Riko stood frozen.
"What the hell, Yuki…?" she whispered.
Sayuri watched helplessly as she sat on the ground, one hand still pressed to the bleeding wound in her thigh. The man in front of Yuki took another step back, sweat now running down the side of his forehead.
"She's got some kinda purple light coming from her chest…"
The one behind Sasaki finally spoke, voice low.
"Enough. We need to get to the Sorcerer King, so we can exchange the Hoshigiri girl for a small fortune."
"No!" the fat man barked. "Let's kill these three first, then we take the Hoshigiri girl. Boss, you with me?"
But the boss wasn't listening. He dropped to one knee in front of Yuki, who was still screaming. The glow from her chest was brighter now. Chains could be seen shimmering beneath her fabric.
He hesitated, then slowly pulled down her pajama shirt.
A circular mark burned against Yuki's skin, etched in twisting lines of dark purple, wrapped in chains around its edges.
He stared at it for a while.
"I've never seen anything like this," he whispered.
After what felt like forever, Yuki's scream finally stopped.
Her chest rose and fell slowly. Her head no longer pulsed with agony. It was like someone had poured cold water into her skull—washing the pain away and replacing it with something heavy. Knowledge.
She remembered everything from the dream world. The voices. The conversation. Even the object she needed to find to stop the disappearances.
But…
Every time she tried to remember who gave her this knowledge, her mind went blank.
No face. No name.
It was maddening. She wanted to find them again—but it was a fruitless effort.
Suddenly, Yuki's lips moved—almost without thinking.
"I will leave you with the knowledge you have acquired here, including how to utilize this curse to your advantage," she muttered.
The bandit standing in front of her heard what she said and slapped her lightly across the head.
"Hey. Don't mutter weird shit like that."
He stood and pointed his finger at the other two bandits.
"You two—load the others into the limo. I'll take this one. She's got something potentially valuable carved into her damn chest. Maybe we can sell her too."
He grabbed Yuki under the arms and hoisted her upright. Her body sagged in his grip. Yuki eyes were half-lidded, her mind clearly elsewhere.
They tossed everyone into the limousine. The fat man climbed into the front and took the wheel, tossing Riko into the passenger seat and using a rubber band magic tool to lock her in place. He bound her fingers tightly using another rubber band etched with glyphs, so she couldn't snap her fingers to undo the magic collar on Sasaki and Sayuri.
Sasaki hadn't said a word this whole time, and it pissed Yuki off more than she expected. His own receptionist had been shot blood still fresh on her leg and still he didn't even flinch.
She knew he was bound by a magic tool, but the way he just grinned without even trying to fight back or even say something didn't sit right with her.
Sayuri slumped beside him. She had finally managed to stop the bleeding in her thigh, but her jaw was tight. Pain still lingered deep.
The two bandits sat across from them. The boss aimed his revolver lazily at the group. While, the other bandit kept his hand raised in a spell-casting posture, aiming at Sasaki and Sayuri's heads.
The limousine rumbled forward.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the fat man called, twisting around. "We're almost at our destination."
"Eyes on the road, you idiot. It's storming like hell out there," the boss snapped.
The fat man quickly turned forward, embarrassed.
After some time had passed—
Yuki heard it again. The same voice as before.
「Second gift acquired: Deathmark Blueprint」
Yuki blinked.
Deathmark blueprint…? So this was the gift that would allow me to use the Deathmark, she thought.
The Deathmark pulsed gently once more.
Yuki felt a little more confident—she'd just been handed a bunch of strange new gifts from who-knows-what. It was just a matter of time, when she learns how to use her new found powers.
Suddenly, a new voice broke her concentration as it echoed through her mind. But it was different from the one that had guided her in the dream world. This one felt sinister. It kind of made her skin crawl.
「Deathmark Curse: Judgment Chain」
The voice continued:
「Point to the target of your choice」
「Speak the phrase: Let death remember」
「Ask your question before the timer runs out」
Yuki's hand moved on its own. She pointed at the man across from her. The boss—the one holding the revolver. His eyes narrowed, while his partner beside him stiffened, hand falling from its casting posture, as he stared at the purple glow forming beneath Yuki's pajamas.
Neither of them moved. The air had changed—just enough to notice.
"What're you—" the boss started.
"Let… death remember," Yuki whispered.
Her Deathmark flared to life.
Iron chains ripped out from Yuki's chest and twitched like snakes. They shot through the air and wrapped around his chest, slamming him back against the seat with a crack that echoed through the limo.
The Deathmark burned across his chest.
It was exactly like Yuki's. But one thing was fundamentally different. On his chest, a glowing purple clock began to tick.
Timer: 60 seconds.Tick. Tick. Tick.