"Leave that spiky-haired brat behind, and I'll let you live."
Kashimo looked at Hana Kurusu, his voice icy.
"And what if I say no?"
"Heh." The corner of Kashimo's mouth twitched. "That's not up to you."
A horn had already appeared in Hana Kurusu's palm, but in the few seconds before she could activate her cursed technique-
The sound of flesh bursting exploded beside her ears. Her eyes were still wide, Kashimo's blurred reflection caught in her pupils.
There was no scream, no struggle. She didn't even have time to look afraid. She fell straight to the ground, a massive bloody hole blasted through her abdomen. Blood gushed from the wound, spreading into a dark puddle beneath her. Her eyes remained open, frozen in that final instant of disbelief.
She died with her eyes wide open.
Kashimo didn't look at her again. He turned and walked over to Megumi Fushiguro. Fushiguro lay on the ground with his eyes closed, blood still seeping from the wound at his temple. His breathing was faint but fairly steady. He had remained unconscious since the earlier fight, never once waking.
"What are you doing, Kashimo?!"
Itadori's roar erupted behind him, hoarse and ragged, seething with rage on the verge of snapping. He desperately writhed, but the Black Rope didn't budge. It couldn't even tighten any further into his flesh.
His fingers opened and closed uselessly within the Black Rope. His nails dug into his palms, blood seeping between his fingers and dripping onto the scorched ground.
Kashimo ignored him. He simply bent down and grabbed Fushiguro by the hair.
His fingers tightened, lifting Fushiguro's head off the ground and turning that pale, bloodied face toward Itadori.
To crush Itadori's soul completely, to shatter every last one of his mental defenses, to leave him without