Middle level, the inverted labyrinth.
Akaza knelt amid the rubble.
The stump of his missing right arm had stopped bleeding. The lingering scorch of the law had sealed the wound completely. Most of the dark purple vein patterns had faded from his face, leaving only a few faintly pulsing traces, like a machine about to run out of power.
He looked at his left hand.
Giyu's blood stained his palm. Dark and thick, it dripped between his fingers, making the faintest sound as it struck the inverted floor.
He knew these hands.
Not as "Upper Rank Three." From much further back. These hands had carried bowls of medicine, beaten up thugs, and accepted a snow-white handkerchief offered by a frail woman.
Master Keizo had sat on the dojo veranda, watching him knock down the thirty-seventh challenger who had come looking for trouble. Smiling, he shook his head. "Soryu, your fists are for protecting, not destroying."
Koyuki.
Pale blue eyes. When she sat beside the well watching the sunset, orange light traced the outline of her profile in a gentle curve. She said, "Once I'm better, let's go see the fireworks."
He had never taken her to see the fireworks.
When he returned, the well water was red.
Akaza plunged his left hand into his own chest.
From the deepest reaches of the Infinity Castle, Muzan's will pierced every spatial barrier like a sharp command and poured straight into his demon core.
"Kill. Stand up. Obey your orders. Kill every human before you."
The commands exploded in his mind. Every word carried the bloodline suppression Muzan had accumulated over a thousand years, trying to overwrite his consciousness at its foundation. Dark purple vein patterns lit up again around the stump, trying to crawl back onto his face.
Akaza closed his five