I, Matou Sakura, Third of the Flame-Chasers!

The voice that sounded again, repeatedly stating the horrifying fact that the her in the mirror was herself...

Am I dead?!

No, you're still alive.

It was like asking and answering oneself, but the fear kept fermenting in her heart.

At that moment, Kiryu Aika suddenly collapsed onto the ground.

My heart has stopped beating!

Clutching her chest tightly, the once strong heartbeat was like a stalled car, completely silent.

I'm dead!

You're alive!

It was like an argument, but the other self in her mind didn't seem to be lying.

Yet the fear still lingered in her mind, her body curling up uncontrollably, her muscles seeming to relax, accompanied by the clear sound of running water.

Her now clean body was once again stained with a different color.

Who are you?

I am you, the other you!

Although her body was out of control, her mind was remarkably calm.

Her mind and body seemed to have undergone some incomprehensible separation.

You're tired.

It was no longer a self-addressed question, but an active suggestion.

Give me your body, and you can rest!

The gentle voice, in her daze, made Kiryu Aika feel as if she saw her mother.

"Mother..."

She whispered softly, her once bright eyes gradually losing their luster, becoming vacant.

With a light laugh, the vacant eyes instantly regained their clarity.

Her twisting limbs contorted into unnatural positions, accompanied by the sounds of tearing skin and breaking bones.

Blood sprayed, flowing onto the floor.

The clean mirror was instantly stained crimson.

Her head, twisted 360 degrees, revealed a sinister smile towards the light above.

Ten minutes later, the door to room 403 slowly opened, and a disheveled man placed the trash he was holding by the door.

The sound of the neighboring door opening caught the man's attention, but he didn't pay it much mind.

He knew a girl lived next door, but he wasn't some pervert. At thirty-five, he had already satisfied all his sexual desires before he turned thirty-two.

Women no longer sparked any curiosity in him. Perhaps cute boys could.

Despite not caring, the corner of his eye, as he straightened up after putting down the trash, still caught sight of the girl next door.

Huh?

It was as if he had seen something.

The man rubbed his eyes hard, his gaze fixed on the hallway.

The girl had already reached the stairs and was about to go down. As if sensing his gaze, she suddenly turned and gave him a slight smile.

At that moment, the man's eyes widened sharply. The sight before him made his heart stop beating, and his gradually stiffening body fell straight to the ground...

The weather today was beautiful, and the walk to school was filled with laughter and joy.

But it didn't belong to Kiryu Aika, though she still wore a sweet smile.

The pink-framed glasses she used to wear were nowhere to be seen, but that no longer mattered. Such things were merely a burden to her vulgar self.

On her way to school, some people recognized Kiryu Aika. Although she didn't have many friends at school, Kiryu Aika was somewhat of a minor celebrity.

Recognition and friendship had always been two very different things.

Because she wasn't wearing her glasses, many people didn't immediately recognize Kiryu Aika when they saw her.

Those distinctive pink-framed glasses were a unique characteristic of the person known as Kiryu Aika, a proof of her existence in this time.

It sounded quite peculiar.

But Kiryu Aika didn't mind at all. She maintained her smile, just like an ordinary girl who had encountered something happy.

She reached her classroom, and as Kiryu Aika appeared, everyone's gaze, as if by prearrangement, fell upon her.

"Good morning, everyone~"

A sweet smile, a warm greeting – everything made Kiryu Aika appear like an enthusiastic girl who loved to laugh.

The vacant gazes, the sudden acceleration of heartbeats, a beautiful blush bloomed on the girls' pretty faces.

The dazed looks vanished in an instant, and a different light appeared in the boys' eyes.

Everything seemed so wonderful.

A hint of a strange smile played on the lips as they walked to their seats with a joyful step.

Her clear eyes looked up at the sky, but the azure sky did not appear in Kiryu Aika's eyes.

What reflected in her eyes was a world of blood-red beauty.

That place was called... hell.

Within the Cave Heaven, Makima watched everything happening in the school with a smile.

The first devil in hell was quite a decent fellow.

But only as a tool.

As for her?

She was indeed a devil, the Control Devil.

But as Sakura's devil, her second heart, she belonged not to hell, but to Sakura.

Her master tightly controlled her everything, her belonging, and her end, leaving nothing untouched.

If anything, only this body, which could be toyed with at will, had not been tainted by her.

If Sakura wanted it, she would be quite happy.

For her, that would be a kind of subtle recognition.

After all, this body and the name Makima existed because of Sakura.

Space tore open, and two figures appeared in the Cave Heaven, right before Makima and Asama Tomoe.

The pure white maid dress was stained with vibrant red, with only a sliver of exposed skin remaining spotless.

Belfast maintained her maidly elegance; only the pristine white and loose sleeves were stained a brilliant red.

The other was even more simple and brutal.

The jet-black armor, like that of a demon, was now entirely a vibrant red, as if dyed a different color.

Removing the armor revealed a cold face, her golden hair still as dazzling as ever.

"Welcome back."

Makima remained seated, but she snapped her fingers crisply.

In an instant, the blood vanished, completely and utterly.

As the Control Devil, she used her authority to control the space and then used the space to cleanse the vibrant blood away.

She liked vibrant red, but it depended on who it belonged to.

Besides Sakura's colors, she couldn't be bothered with any other red.

"Miss Makima, really."

Belfast looked at her now-clean clothes, not with any thanks, but with a sense of helplessness.

"It would have been better if Longo-Minyad and I just took a bath."

"Perhaps dying once would be simpler."

Makima propped her cheek on her hand, speaking words that were not a joke.

"Death, and then coming back to life, saves the trouble of bathing, how nice~"

"That won't do."

Belfast paid no mind to Makima's words. She smiled slightly, her right hand, encased in white stockings, gently resting on her flat stomach.

"This body still carries the scent and aura of Lady Sakura; I don't want to discard it so carelessly."

"Tch..."

Makima snorted, shrugged, and said no more.

Longo-Minyad had already left to clean herself. She shared the same habit as Belfast, but she had left before Belfast could speak.

While she had grown accustomed to this household, some things still unsettled her.

For instance, the way Makima and Belfast conversed.

Even as a cold deity, their views and methods on certain matters went beyond what she, as a god, could easily accept.

"Miss Belfast, I'll go with you."

Her hand.

If she had to choose between Makima and Belfast, she would undoubtedly choose the latter.

"Let's go."

Belfast smiled slightly, quite fond of this new companion.

After all, it's a child that Lady Sakura also likes.

But I'm really envious, such a figure...

Looking at the body perfectly presented by the sexy, tight-fitting outfit.

Even certain hidden curves were not spared, perfectly revealed by the exceptionally tight clothing.

Her proud figure made the maid a little jealous.

Even we Ship Girls would find it hard to match such a physique.

No wonder even Sakura said this child had a lewd figure.

And is this really not some kind of fetish outfit?

It's hard to believe it's called combat attire!

Seventy, a world fed by flesh and blood.

The Underworld.

In this world, there is no such thing as hell.

Even the place where demons live is not hell, but the Demon Realm.

And at this moment, the Underworld is in Sakura's hands.

Belfast and Longo-Minyad had already cleaned up the situation for her; the entire Underworld was now devoid of any life.

Though it seemed something was left behind, it no longer mattered.

Looking at the grayish-blue sphere in her hand, the so-called Underworld, Sakura let out a soft laugh.

Vast spatial energy surged into the Underworld with her will, and faint sounds continuously arose – the mournful cries of the Underworld.