Infinity Castle.
Space loses its meaning here.
The wooden corridors crisscrossed in the void, some extending upwards into the darkness, some plunging downwards into the abyss, and many more twisting and folding at impossible angles, like origami casually kneaded by a pair of giant hands.
The wooden doors move automatically without wind, revealing more wooden doors behind them as they open and close, layer upon layer, endlessly.
At one moment, the clear, melancholic Biwa suddenly arose from somewhere.
Zheng--
The sound of the strings echoed through the intricate space, and wherever it passed, the once still corridor began to move.
The wooden planks creaked and groaned as they rubbed together, and the entire corridor seemed like a giant python that had come to life, meandering through the void.
One wooden door after another slid open automatically, revealing other passageways that were also moving behind them.
Deep within this city that defies all common sense, a wide platform slowly descends from above.
The first figure appeared on the east side of the platform.
The hem of her kimono dragged across the wooden planks, making a soft rustling sound.
Daki walked onto the platform in tall wooden clogs, her exquisite face almost eerily beautiful under the pale light.
She wore a gorgeous kimono embroidered with intricate patterns, and her long, deep purple hair was styled into an elaborate updo, adorned with several tortoiseshell hairpins.
But at this moment, her beautiful face was filled with impatience.
"What kind of place is this...?"
Daki pursed her lips and covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve.
"It smells musty, and there's a smell of blood... How disgusting."
Behind her, the shadow suddenly shifted.
A hunched figure slowly "emerged" from Daki's own shadow, as if rising from deep water.
Gyutaro straightened up, and the chilly aura made the temperature on the platform drop several degrees.
His skin was deathly pale, he was emaciated, and his short, dark green hair was disheveled and stuck to his forehead. His bare upper body was covered with black spots and scars, and he was only wearing tattered trousers on his lower body.
Most striking were the two curved sickles in his hands, their blades gleaming an ominous dark red under the light, as if forever soaked in dried blood.
"Little sister, stop complaining."
Gyutaro's voice was hoarse and grating, like sandpaper being rubbed.
"Muzan has summoned us. Wait quietly."
"I understand!"
Daki stomped her foot, the wooden clogs striking the wooden planks with a crisp sound.
"But brother, this place is so dirty! Look, there's dust on the ground!"
Gyutaro did not refute, but silently walked to a position half a step in front of Daki, standing in a protective posture.
A strange "gurgling" sound came from the west side.
A pot rolled out of the darkness.
The body of the pot is an asymmetrical, twisted shape, covered with dense, fish-scale-like patterns, and the rim of the pot has a ring of tiny sharp teeth.
The teapot rolled a few times on the platform before finally stopping with a "thud," its body wobbling slightly.
Then, a pale hand emerged from the spout of the kettle.
The fingers are long and thin, the nails are sharp, and the skin is covered with mucus.
The hand gripped the edge of the pot's spout and pushed hard... and a head emerged from the pot.
It was a face that defied description.
The eyes are located where the mouth should be, but the mouth is vertically split open on the forehead, revealing layers upon layers of sharp teeth.
Even more bizarrely, several tiny, baby-like hands were growing from its neck, waving wildly.
The Gyokko emerged completely from the pot.
It has a human-like torso, but its lower body is connected to the pot, as if it "grew" out of the pot.
The skin was a sickly grayish-white, covered in mucus and strange bumps.
He was also holding another smaller pot in his arms, gently stroking its body with his tentacle-like fingers.
"Ara ara~"
The Gyokko emitted a high-pitched sound from its misaligned spout.
"Miss Daki looks beautiful today too~ The pattern on her kimono is so beautiful, I just want to... keep it forever~"
He tilted his head, scrutinizing Daki, a sickly light gleaming in his eyes.
Daki a half step back in disgust:
"Stay away from me, you disgusting pot-shaped man."
"Nausea?"
The Gyokko's tone suddenly rose, and the pot in its arms trembled accordingly.
"What do you know! This is art! Timeless beauty! Look at my new work--"
He raised the small pot in his arms, and suddenly several cracks appeared in the pot, from which faint human groans could be heard.
The Gyokko listened to the sounds with rapt attention, several eyeballs bulging out from the cracks in its body and spinning wildly.
"I've condensed the souls of a family of three into this—father, mother, and daughter... their fear, despair, and final struggles... all sealed within this small pot! This is true art!"
"You barbaric monsters who only know how to tear apart and devour have no appreciation whatsoever!"
Gyutaro slightly raised his scythe, the blade aimed at Gyokko:
"If you dare look at my sister like that again, I'll smash all your teapots to pieces."
Gyokko immediately shrank his neck:
"Rude... so rude... art needs to be protected..."
From the shadows in the southeast corner of the platform came suppressed sobs.
An old man, hunched over and almost curled up in a ball, squatted there, his thin body wrapped in tattered clothes.
Hantengu buried his face in his knees, his shoulders trembling, muttering repeatedly:
"This is terrifying... Everyone is so terrifying... Why do we have to have a meeting... I want to go home..."
Suddenly, his body twisted.
From the hunched body, four blurry shadows split off.
A shadowy figure, its face flushed, brandished an illusory fist:
"Cowards! What are you afraid of! We are all Upper Rank! Kill them! Kill them all!"
Another shadow covered its face and wept:
"Waaah... But I really can't beat him... Kokushibo is so scary... Lord Muzan is even scarier..."
The third shadow chuckled foolishly:
"Meetings are quite fun, aren't they? Look at Gyokko's weird expression! Look at Daki's angry face!"
The fourth shadow crouches down to defend:
"Stop arguing! Stop arguing! We're doomed if they find out we're splitting up!"
The four clones argued, cried, laughed, and were terrified around the main body of the Hantengu, while the main body just curled up tighter, its face covered in tears and snot.
Daki glanced in that direction and snorted coldly:
"Waste."
Gyokko also scoffed:
"A piece of trash who can't even control his own emotions is also Upper Rank Four... Muzan's standards are truly baffling~"
Gyutaro didn't speak, but a hint of contempt flashed in his eyes.
On his and his sister's journey to survival and eventual transformation into ghosts, he despised cowards who couldn't even face their own fears.
Thump~ thump~ thump!
Heavy footsteps echoed from the north.
Each step caused the wooden platform to tremble slightly, as if a giant beast were approaching instead of a person.
Akaza stepped onto the platform, his bare upper body bulging with muscles, his skin covered in dark blue tattoos.
He had short pink hair, and his golden eyes burned with an inextinguishable fighting spirit.
What's most striking are the black lines on his face, extending from his eye sockets to his cheeks, like tear stains or some kind of mysterious runes.
Akaza scanned the platform, his gaze lingering on each of the demons.
When he saw Daki and Gyutaro, he frowned slightly... He disliked weak people who depended on others.
Upon seeing the Gyokko, an undisguised look of disgust flashed in his eyes... He loathed this twisted and repulsive thing.
Upon seeing the Hantengu and its split clones, he immediately burst out laughing:
"Rubbish."
The main body of the Hantengu trembled even more violently, and its four clones instantly shrank back into its body, no longer daring to show themselves.
Akaza ignored them and walked straight to the edge of the platform, where he stood with his arms crossed.
He closed his eyes, but the fighting spirit emanating from his body grew stronger and stronger, and even the wooden planks beneath his feet began to show tiny cracks.
He was waiting.
Waiting for a worthy opponent.
He awaits an enemy that will make him stronger in battle.