zelphin @zelphin124 - Tumblr Blog

Dec 8, 2025

LCB-3 -> Canto 2: Chapter 4

Welp, here's another one just because. (Slowly losing motivation to write this.)

Masterpost Chapter 3 <--> Chapter 5

~o0o~

Jekyll hesitated for only a moment, her brush held tightly in her hand as she took a small step toward Mallo. Her voice was calm, deliberate, carrying a quiet confidence. “I will join your team,” she said. From the shadowed corners of her mind, Hyde’s smirk flickered briefly, pleased with the choice.

Dante rang his clock, the sharp, metallic chime echoing off the walls of the chamber. He waved his hand with authority, commanding attention. “Everyone, please be ready. I need your full attention now,” he called out, his voice cutting through the residual chaos.

The group turned slowly, some moving reluctantly as their gazes shifted toward him.

“What is it now, clockhead?” Mark muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and barely restrained impatience.

Dante’s expression remained firm, unwavering. “The rules,” he said. “Listen carefully. I will ensure your safety, so focus and trust me.”

Mallo leaned slightly toward Jekyll and Jatayu, her voice low but reassuring. “Do not worry. We will handle this,” she said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite the tension in the room.

“I presume everyone has organized their teams?” Dante asked, scanning the room with a careful, almost clinical gaze.

“Yup,” Mallo said, gesturing toward Jekyll and Jatayu with a confident grin. Then her brow furrowed as she glanced toward Mark’s side. “Wait a second. That is not fair. How do they have four members?”

Dante tapped his PDA with precise movements, adjusting his suit as though each action was part of an intricate dance. “Considering that… Boy, please make another note of this report,” he said.

Boy nodded immediately, already scribbling, the tip of his pen scratching against the surface with urgent precision.

“Now that everyone is evened up,” Dante continued, raising his hand to still the chatter in the room, “a few rules have been added to make this challenge reasonable. They were devised quickly, but they should work.”

The air grew tense as he began to explain, his voice measured.

“Rule number one: Whichever team has fewer players, I will accompany them to assist, compensating for the smaller size. Rule number two: Both teams will relinquish their EGO Gifts to me for the time being, as they are an unfair advantage. The EGOs themselves remain with you, but any new EGO Gifts obtained after this initial removal will also be held by me. Rule number three: We will keep score based on kills. Class One peccatulum will earn one point, Class Two two points, Class Three three points, and abnormalities will earn five points each.”

Mallo raised a hand, cigarette dangling carelessly from her lips. “And abnormality minions?” she asked, her tone sharp and inquisitive.

Dante paused thoughtfully. “Technically, an abnormality could keep spawning minions. Perhaps half a point for each one,” he suggested. “Additionally, if an ally staggers an enemy and the team leader finishes it in the same turn, the points awarded will double. For humans you may encounter, please interrogate them; any useful information will net the obtainer a bonus of three points.”

“And using tool abnormalities?” Mallo pressed further, her eyes narrowing.

“That had not been considered,” Dante admitted, his tone calm. “But no. They may not be used.”

Mallo gave a satisfied nod, her expression hardening with approval.

Dante continued, his voice low but firm. “If any humans encountered are hostile threats, each kill will count as two points. Rule number four: If an ally dies for any reason other than sabotage from other teams, your team will lose half of its current points. If the team captain dies, all points accumulated will be lost.”

“What about ammunition?” Mallo asked, frowning. “It is not infinite.”

“I will ensure ammo is replenished,” Dante said simply, his tone carrying no room for argument.

“Rule number five: There will be no sabotage between allies or teams. Anyone caught deliberately sabotaging another will face punishment,” he added. Hyde whispered darkly in Jekyll’s mind: So do not get caught.

“In-team sabotage will result in the banning of the offending identity for three sessions, with repeated offenses increasing the duration. Sabotage against other teams will result in the sabotaged team receiving points commensurate with the severity of the act.”

“I would not complain about that,” Mark muttered, his voice dripping with sly amusement.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Since when can you do that, Dante?” he asked, incredulous.

Mallo leaned lazily against the wall, smoke curling upward, rolling her eyes.

“I will not pry further than recent memories,” Dante reassured them.

“Neat,” Alex said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“There is no need to cheat,” Lenore added coolly, her presence steady and commanding. “We will be victorious without it.”

Dante’s hands moved again, the ticking of his clock punctuating the room like a heartbeat. “Rule number six: To ensure fairness, I will review your recent memories to confirm the accuracy of your scores. This will prevent cheating and sabotage.”

“Rule number seven: I will split your Sin Resource funds so that all teams begin on equal footing. Upon returning, all resources will be returned to their original totals. Rule number eight: The winning team will earn a twenty-pull for each member, two rolls on the reward dice, and one thousand tickets. The losing team will still receive one thousand tickets as participation.”

He lowered his voice, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Secret Rule Nine applies only to non-team captains. I need Mark and Mallo to leave the room so they do not hear.”

Mallo flicked ash from her cigarette and sighed. “Fine,” she said with quiet resignation.

“Yeah,” Mark muttered, stepping toward the door.

Dante gestured for the others to gather closer. “There is a secret rule for you all. Come closer,” he said, his voice hushed but urgent.

Jekyll edged forward, gripping her brush tightly, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

“Since Mark and Mallo are endlessly bickering,” Dante continued, his tone conspiratorial, “if you can help me improve the relationship between them, I will reward you handsomely.” He held up his clock, which gleamed faintly under the chamber lights. “If you can get Mark and Mallo to stop fighting and work together as a team, I will pay each of you twenty thousand tickets.”

The group exchanged glances, a heavy silence falling as the weight of the secret rule sank in. Jekyll’s lips twitched into a faint smile. Perhaps this will be more entertaining than the fight itself. It might be interesting to see if they can actually cooperate…

Hyde’s laughter curled through the back of Jekyll’s mind. Or perhaps we will make it worse.

Dante clasped his hands together, the ticking of his clock echoing softly. His voice carried a subtle urgency, almost a plea. “If you can stop them from bickering and make them function as a cohesive team, I will reward you all greatly—four-star tickets each.”

Jekyll tilted her head, a skeptical expression on her face. “You are placing a great deal of faith in us for what seems to be an impossible task,” she said softly.

“You are my only hope,” Dante replied, bowing slightly, hands pressed together in a gesture of earnest appeal.

Alex straightened his coat, voice crisp and confident. “Executive manager, we will certainly do our best to accomplish this.”

Jekyll turned her gaze to Lenore, her voice quieter now, layered with curiosity and doubt. “Do you think this is actually possible?”

Lenore’s eyes narrowed, her tone cool and measured. “I have my doubts,” she replied. Then, without another word, she stepped away, her presence commanding even in silence.

The groups split cleanly down the corridor—an invisible line drawn between them. To the east, Mallo led with Jatayu beside her, Jekyll lingering close, and the corporate recruits trailing like uncertain shadows. To the west stood Lenore, towering in her Big Sister ID; Mark, adorned in his immaculate Middle uniform; and Alex, his Heishou form sheathed in quiet menace.

The air felt heavy, as though the hall itself braced for conflict the moment their paths diverged.

Mark drifted casually to the right, his posture relaxed, his nails painted a dainty pink that clashed violently with Lenore’s massive armored silhouette.

Jekyll’s brows pinched, her fingers tightening around her brush. They get to use the overpowered IDs and I do not?Hyde stirred—smoke curling through Jekyll’s thoughts. The shift came naturally, too naturally. Jekyll’s form twisted into N-Hyde, her aura thickening, swallowing the softer angles of her previous expression. Wait— I did not mean—Her voice vanished. Hyde rose in her place.

Mark’s voice split the tense air, sharp and careless. “Listen, Grandma. I understand wanting to look older, but you already look old enough as it is.”

Mallo’s patience snapped like a frayed wire. “Save your insults until after the competition, Mark,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I am merely stating facts,” Mark muttered, smirking at his own wit.

“She is not the oldest,” Jatayu said—calm, factual, neutral as ever.

Mark turned to him with a single raised brow. “You are the oldest. But at least you are sensible.”

Jatayu blinked. “…Thank you?”

Lenore’s voice boomed from behind them, her Big Sister ID tightening her tone into a command. “If you win, you are going in the book, girl.”

Mallo froze, a small shudder running through her. No matter how many times she heard it, she never got over the lingering dread—the knowledge that their counterparts in another world were Middle. That she could have been one of them.

Her discomfort hardly mattered to Hyde. In fact, the faint tremor in Mallo’s shoulders thrilled her. Hyde stepped forward and clapped a sharp hand on Mallo’s shoulder, her grin slicing across her face. “Let us go purify some heretics,” she said sweetly.

Mallo met her eyes and gave a respectful bow, acknowledging the monster she walked beside.

Lenore, meanwhile, pulled out drinks with deliberate reverence—sharing them like sacred offerings among her group. “Here, brother. For the soul,” she said, handing Mark a fireball shot.

Mark downed it immediately. “Thanks, sis. Hits right where it needs to.”

Jatayu crossed his arms, his tone resolute and steadfast. “Do not worry. They use cheap tactics because they cannot match our strength.”

Lenore’s gaze snapped to him. “Insulting Middle’s honor? You are going in the book as well, little man.” She raised her glass high. “We drink early to celebrate our victory.”

Hyde barely held back a laugh—a low, delighted sound that hummed in her chest. The foolishness of the Middle never ceases to amaze me.

Mark leaned against the doorway, smirk still in place. “Not our fault Big Sis actually understands resource conservation. Not something the rest of you seem familiar with.”

His jab was ignored—or perhaps it was merely too petty for anyone to bother with.

The Middle group stepped into their assigned room first—and stopped dead in their tracks. Carnage lay scattered across the floor: shredded flesh, splintered bone, blood smeared in streaks along the wall like abstract art left in haste.

Lenore’s eyes widened. “Someone has killed before we had the chance! When I discover who did this, they are going in the book.”

Alex bowed his head respectfully. “A wise decision, my lady. Would you like me to confront them personally if we encounter them? Or shall I dispose of them on sight?”

Mark crouched beside a particularly well-flayed corpse, admiration gleaming in his eyes. “Well, well, well… Big Sis, I think one of ours got here first. This skinning job is immaculate. If one of our own did it, let us not add it to the books.”

Hyde tilted her head, analyzing the scene. There are already Middle members here—ones not aligned with our company. They must be ahead of us.

Lenore tightened her grip on her weapon, her stance widening protectively. “I am keeping both of you safe. If anyone tries to harm either of you, they are going in the books. And I will beat them to death with it.”

Alex bowed again, sincere and unwavering. “A most respectable decree, my lady. Your loyalty is unmatched. Still, I am only a tool at your disposal.”

Meanwhile, Mallo, Jatayu, and Hyde moved through the eastern corridor. The air grew colder, the shadows lengthening as if recoiling from their presence.

Three peccatulum bodies lay twisted across the floor—limbs broken at unnatural angles, faces contorted in their final moments.

From the other hall, Lenore’s voice carried like a blade scraping stone. “They will receive Middle judgement,” she declared.

Mark and Alex followed her, their footsteps echoing in tandem. Lenore lifted her book, eyes narrowed with righteous fury.

“Interfere," she warned, "and get booked.”

The chamber was dim, lit only by the low, sickly glow of unstable machinery buried in the walls. The smell hit first—burnt hair, scorched flesh, and something metallic beneath it all. Shadows clung to the corners like wet paint refusing to dry. Three figures stood over the gutted peccatulum corpse, their coats shifting and distorting as if something inside them didn’t fit the shapes they wore.

One body was blackened, cracked like cooled magma with fiery red light leaking through the fractures. Another gleamed in unnatural metallic blue, reflecting the dim light in slow, serpentine waves. The third moved like a human silhouette filled with water—rippling as it breathed, sloshing with each small motion.

The orange-coated one knelt by the corpse, a flaming blade lodged deep in its hide. Sparks hissed each time he sawed at the resistant flesh, sweat beading along his brow even as the fire lit his hands. “Just a minute,” he grunted. “This isn’t easy. Hard to cut something that’s built to resist you.”

The blue-coated one sighed, bored. “You done skinning the corpse yet?”

“Almost,” the orange one snapped. “Be patient.”

Chunks of skin peeled away in stubborn sheets, tossed with wet thuds into a sack at their side. The water-like figure leaned closer, movements fluid and too smooth. “Aight. Should be enough.”

Fear. Always start with fear. Weak men in hollow coats—snap one, and the others break on their own. Hyde stepped forward with slow, deliberate arrogance. Her boots clicked against the metal floor, echoing like a countdown. Then she struck—her hand shooting out, grabbing the blue-coated man by the scruff and yanking him upward like he weighed nothing. Her grin spread wider, predatory, hungry.

“Hi,” she said brightly, as if greeting an old friend. “What are you guys doing here?”

The blue-coated man yelped, kicking frantically. “Ack! What?! Let go! Help! Help me!”

“Answer my question,” Hyde murmured, her tone lowering to a velvet threat.

The orange-coated man scrambled to his feet, flaming sword still lit. “Hey, we aren’t looking for a fight—” His words caught as his eyes focused on Hyde’s aura, on the black-and-red halo twisting around her. “Wait. What is N Corp doing in P Corp? Why are Middle members here? We told them to stay guard! Traitors!”

Already unraveling. Good. Hyde’s expression cooled into something sharper. “I would like my questions answered.”

The orange man blanched. “Over our dead bodies!” Then Hyde’s eyes locked onto his, and the bravado died in his throat. “I—I mean… will you leave us alone if we do?”

Hyde’s voice dripped like honey over a blade. “I can promise that for the three of us. Who do you work for?”

The orange man hesitated. “Isn’t that classified? You won’t even tell me who you work for.”

Hyde’s grin widened. “I’d be delighted to exchange that information.”

Steps approached—Lenore, book in hand, Mark and Alex behind her. Her voice was steady, commanding. “We work for the Middle. Answer, or be written in the books.”

Hyde rolled her eyes. Oh, go ahead, coward. Play judge. I’ll play executioner. See which role they fear more.

The orange man’s panic deepened. “We made an agreement with you! Why are you here?”

Hyde dragged the blue-coated man slightly closer, her weapon grazing his throat. “Answer my questions, not theirs.”

“Help meeeee—!” the blue-coated one shrieked.

The orange one raised both hands desperately. “I’ll answer! Just drop him!”

Finally. Hyde loosened her grip. The man crumpled to the floor, gasping.

The orange one pointed shakily at the peccatulum corpse. “We’re… harvesting. Making equipment from these things. Like Lob Corp did. Insider project stuff. We—we work for a guy named Hex.”

The moment the name left his mouth, the air cracked. Mallo’s ID shattered—literally split apart like a broken mask, falling away in flickers of light. She hit her base ego hard, breath ripping out of her as if she’d been punched. Shock. Recognition. Then—

Rage.

Rage that flooded her face so violently it looked painful. She pushed past everyone, her stave snapping up under the orange man’s jaw, forcing him onto his toes. Her voice was a growl pulled from somewhere deep and wounded. “Who the hell did you just say?”

“W-wait wait wai—” the orange man stammered.

Mallo stepped in, eyes burning, pupils reduced to pinpricks. “Who. Did. You. Say?”

“Hex?” he squeaked. “Is—there something wrong? Did you… know him? At one point?”

Mallo didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Bloodlust simmered just beneath her skin, trembling with every heartbeat. When she spoke, her voice was venom. “Maybe you want to explain some more. I have a few questions.”

“He’s down there!” the orange man blurted. “Go ask him yourself! He was—he was dealing with something. I don’t know why he wouldn’t talk to you.”

The water-like figure shrugged. “Boss does the dirty work. I don’t question it. Long as we get paid.”

The blue one whispered nervously, “Careful what you say… Big Sis is here…”

But Mallo was beyond hearing anyone. Her hands shook—not with fear, but barely-contained fury. “Swear to gosh,” she spat, “when I get my hands on that bastard—”

She shoved away from them, storming down the hall, her footsteps hammering the metal.

“Wait! No, you can’t go that way!” the cyan-coated one cried.

The charred figure sighed. “Leave her. If she tries, he’ll kill her. He’s strong. Come here, let’s deal with this.”

He turned toward Lenore, eyes narrowing. “Why are you here?”

Lenore’s voice held cold authority. “To observe the terms of the agreement and how it progresses. We will be on our way.”

Mark and Alex rushed after Mallo immediately, no hesitation, their footsteps fading into the echoing dark.

Jatayu stepped forward with the innocent politeness that always seemed to confuse people who didn’t know him. “May we kindly investigate the room to your left?” he asked, as though asking permission to borrow a cup of sugar instead of entering a chamber full of corpses.

The orange-coated man shook his head violently. “Don’t. Don’t touch anything in there. We don’t want to fight that thing again.”

Jatayu’s eyes lit with curiosity. “Oh? Something to fight?”

“Yes.” The orange man’s voice dropped to a strained whisper. “An abnormality egg. We don’t… we don’t ever want to fight it again.”

Jatayu clasped his hands behind his back, smiling warmly. “Thank you for doing our job for us.”

“Wait—no, hold on,” the orange man snapped. His frustration cracked through the fear. “What are you doing here?”

Hyde slid up beside Jatayu, patting his shoulder as if he were a child who had said something dangerously naive. Her grin curled like a blade. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about half the time.” Keep them off balance. Smile, soothe, mislead—then twist. They’ll claw for answers, and I’ll give them only smoke.

The orange man’s bitterness rose to the surface. “The Middle didn’t answer us. They ignored us. Insulted us. If there’s a contract, why do they refuse to communicate?” His glare darted between Hyde and Lenore. “Can you answer our questions?”

Hyde tilted her head, her grin widening into something almost gentle—and therefore far more dangerous. They want clarity. They don’t understand clarity is a knife I sharpen on their throats.Her voice was light, almost curious. “What questions do you have?”

A thick silence closed around them. Even the air felt tense, coiled like a spring.

The orange-coated man exhaled shakily. “Why are you here? Did you clear floor one? There was no one up there.”

Hyde’s grin flashed, her chains giving a soft, eerie rattle. “Yes. Plenty of loot for you all up there.” Her tone danced between mockery and condescension. “What did you see on the lower floor?”

The man’s grip tightened around his flaming blade. “Mostly the boss’ doing. Something glowing… about dreams and promises. You give a dream, and something grants it.”

Hyde’s smile didn’t move, but her eyes sharpened. Dreams and promises. The oldest bait. Offer hope. Reap obedience. Let him talk. Fear makes them fill the silence with every lie they’ve been told.

“How did you get the tools for abnorms?” she asked, voice dipping into steel.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s from the peccatulum skin,” the orange man answered hurriedly. “Like—like this here. Helps us kill abnorms. It’s like EGO but… not. I don’t know. The boss handles that part.”

Hyde stepped in, her smile slipping away like a mask. “What’s your boss doing here?”

The orange man swallowed, throat bobbing. “Looking for someone involved with the Middle.”

A sharp, ringing clang split the air—Dante’s clock. His head snapped toward where Mallo had run. He’d seen it: her ID fracturing, shattering into raw ego.

Something was wrong.

“Boy,” Dante ordered, voice tight, “tell everyone the competition’s off. Something happened to Mallo.”

Boy didn’t hesitate—he bolted down the hall, boots pounding against metal.

Hyde turned lazily to Jatayu, her grin returning like a knife sliding out of a sheath. “Do we have any other questions, comrade?”

Jatayu puffed up proudly—theatrically. “No! We are simply here to suppress abnorms—for our great, magnificent, mighty leader!”

Hyde resisted the urge to groan. Fool. He thinks devotion is a shield. But devotion is brittle. When it breaks, it shreds you from the inside out.

Jatayu blinked, suddenly uncertain. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah. Alright then,” the orange man said, this time sounding almost soothed. The idiot believed him.

Hyde bowed with exaggerated flourish as her chains shivered. She turned sharply, catching Dante’s eye just as the orange man reached out to pull him aside.

“Come, ransom,” she snapped loudly.

Dante froze, confusion rippling across his face. The orange man paused as well, puzzled.

“Ransom. Come now.” Hyde’s voice cracked like a whip.

She seized Dante by the wrists—her grip harsh, ironclad. She yanked him forward, dragging him with all the theatrical cruelty of an executioner hauling a prisoner.

She leaned in close, close enough that only he could hear, her whisper a thread of venom. “Keep up, heretic. Don’t draw attention. Or I will purge you.”

Dante hissed quietly in pain as she pulled him down the hall, limp in her hands. Better they see him as helpless. Better they see me as the threat. Fear is a costume, and I wear it beautifully.

Behind them, chaos erupted.

Mark burst into the corridor first, weapon drawn. Lenore wasn’t far behind, book open and glowing. Alex leveled his gun, shots firing. Shouts slammed against metal walls. Steel flashed. Fire ignited.

The fragile balance snapped into violence.

But Hyde could not hear it for a moment as her identity cracked like glass under pressure.

Hyde’s silhouette splintered apart, dissolving into streaks of red-black smoke as the ID collapsed. Jekyll stumbled forward as if shoved from inside, her breath cutting sharp through the air. For a heartbeat she swore she could still feel Hyde’s fingers hooked around her ribs—pulling her forward, urging her on. She let go of Dante, wondering if he had changed her ID to get out of her grip. However, that was the least of her concern.

Hex. That name again. Ornella’s warned about someone like that. The drone whispered its name. All roads—every one these past few days—pointed to Mallo.

Ahead, Mallo stood trembling with fury, her weapon writhing and reshaping itself until it settled into a massive shovel. The rage rolling off her was almost physical—heat, pressure, something unhinged.

Jekyll tightened her grip on her paintbrush, grounding herself. She stepped forward. “Mallo.”

“Get the hell off me!” Mallo spun on her, lips twisted, eyes feral.

“Mallo,” Jekyll repeated, stronger this time. She grabbed Mallo’s wrist. “We cannot walk in blindly. The man the grunts mentioned—he’s looking for you.”

But Mallo didn’t hear. Or wouldn’t. Her rage crested and broke. With a shriek, she swung her shovel in a wild arc, aiming to crush Jekyll into the dirt.

Jekyll sidestepped, hooking her brush through Mallo’s grip and wrenching the weapon aside with a fluid, practiced twist. Their boots scraped over shattered stone. Mallo lurched, unsteady. Don’t attack me like I’m some child, I could kill you where you stand.

Yet instead of calming, Mallo’s rage grew. Her weapon shimmered—fully a shovel now—its edge gleaming like a threat made solid.

Jekyll exhaled sharply in disbelief. She stared at Mallo with a hard look. “Really?”

“Get out of my way,” Mallo hissed, voice trembling with something deeper than anger—something desperate, drowning. “Or I’ll kill anyone who stands between me and him—even Dante.”

That threat hit the air like a gunshot.

Jekyll stepped back slowly, raising her hands, her expression cold with offended pride. “Fine. Go. But you don’t get to say I didn’t warn you.”

Dante spoke softly, “Mallo…”

“Yes, Dante, what is it?” she snapped without turning.

“We talked about this. You can’t attack others like this.”

“I don’t care! I need to do what I want—and you’re all getting in my way!”

“We are your team,” Jatayu pleaded, stepping closer.

“I’m trying to warn you,” Jekyll said through gritted teeth, her composure fraying. “You are walking into a trap. The grunts say Hex is looking for you.”

Mallo stalked toward her, eyes burning. “Yeah. And I’ve been looking for him.”

“It’s not safe—” Jekyll began.

“I don’t care about safe!” Mallo roared. “I’m trying to get what I want. Stay out of my way, you useless brat! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Jekyll has to control her expression and control Hyde from plummeting her into the ground. “You could jeopardize the mission—hurt Dante—”

“None of that matters!” Mallo cut her off, her voice cracking. “It never mattered to me! All of this—this whole stupid company—was a tool for me to get what I wanted. And what I want is more important than any of you.”

Something inside Jekyll buckled. A splinter. A sharp, clean break. Hyde started cackling in the back of their mind. I told you, Jekyll. I told you since day one.

Jekyll closed her eyes momentarily. All of Hyde’s hatred toward Mallo suddenly made sense. She let out a shaky exhale, the pain she felt in her heart quickly resurfacing as the rage akin to Hyde’s.

In a moment, any attachment she had to Mallo was gone from those words. All that was left was Hyde’s opinion.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking with fury she rarely let surface. “I didn’t realize the only opinion that mattered was yours. Not the mission. Not the team. Certainly not Dante.”

Mallo laughed—shrill, deranged. “Well, now you know. None of this matters to me. You don’t matter. You’re all just stepping stones.” She threw her head back, laughter cracking. “I can’t die anymore. I’m immortal. This is going to be fun.”

Oh, you won’t be mortal forever, Jekyll sneered, rage boiling inside her. When that moment comes when we are released from this hell… Expect me to be standing over your grave, as the person who caused your death. This is a promise.

Hyde grinned, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Dante reached toward her gently—too gently—and she kneed him hard in the chest. He gasped, collapsing to the ground, and Jekyll moved before thought, dropping beside him and lifting her brush toward Mallo.

Protect Dante. That was the task. That was her anchor.

Mallo was no longer a concern to Jekyll’s mind. She was a threat that needed to be taken care of. Hyde burned inside her—thrilled, hungry, whispering that bloodshed was the clearest solution. Let me out.I’ll end this.

“No,” Jekyll muttered under her breath. “Not yet.” Not until we can assure her death.

“You’re being irrational!” Jatayu shouted, taking position beside her.

“Irrational? Me?” Mallo shrieked. “Everyone here is irrational! I always get what I want!”

“There are better ways,” Dante choked. “We’re here to help—”

“What would that prove? That I’m weak?” Mallo spat. “I don’t need any of you. You don’t understand what I’ve dealt with. You never will. Just leave me alone. Let me handle this myself.”

Dante’s voice dropped into something soft. Heartbroken. “You want to deal with this alone?”

“Yes!” she barked.

Something in Dante’s posture shifted—quietly, irrevocably. He turned to Jekyll.

Jekyll met his gaze. She understood. She gave him a nod, hoping beyond hope they shared the same thought. Cut her off, Dante. Let me finish her.Yes, let us finish her Dante.

His eyes didn’t plead. They commanded. “Do it yourself, then,” Dante said toward Mallo.

The words hit Mallo harder than any weapon. She froze. Her breath stuttered—once, twice—like her body had forgotten how to breathe. Something had happened; she looked as if she suddenly carried the weight of her own life. “What… what did you do?”

She stepped forward instinctively, a trembling animal reaching toward a familiarity that had just been severed. But Jekyll’s paintbrush blocked her path, the wooden shaft as immovable as a gate slammed shut. Jekyll didn’t flinch. Her stance was iron. Unyielding.

Oh, things are about to get real.

Beside her, Jatayu lifted his weapon, his posture rigid with heartbreak.

The way Mallo looked at Dante—wide-eyed, betrayed, confused—told the entire party everything they needed to know.

Dante had let go of Mallo’s chain. He had severed their connection. She was no longer bound to him.

A tear didn’t fall, but her fury flickered with the ghost of one. “I should’ve expected this,” she spat. “You’re all backstabbing nobodies. Jatayu, I’m ashamed to have ever helped you.”

Jatayu didn’t flinch. His expression didn’t crack. “Says the one who decided our help meant nothing.”

Mallo’s breath came ragged, her voice trembling between fury and something rawer—something dangerously close to despair. She glared at Jatayu, eyes shining with betrayal.

“Jatayu, Jatayu… my promise to you meant the world when we were together.” Her voice hitched. “But you are not together—you’re against me now. And I don’t care if you are. You put yourself in this position. Do you understand?”

Jatayu’s face fell, sorrow carving deep lines across it. “I wish with all my heart this would not happen. But you are acting… like a jerk.”

The word landed like a slap.

“A jerk?!” Mallo shrieked. “I’m not a jerk! I’m getting what I want! What if I called you that because you want your niece back—how would you like that?!”

“You’re rejecting our help,” Jatayu said quietly. The steadiness of his voice only sharpened her anger. “You said you don’t need us.”

“I’ll prove it! Screw off!” she screamed, whipping around and storming into the next room.

The chamber beyond swallowed her in shadow.

It was darker than the corridor, the air thick with a cloying sweetness like rotting sugar. The walls and ceiling were crowded with crystalline growths—candy-bright, sickly beautiful, glittering even in the dim light. They pulsed in slow waves, faint hums reverberating through the room like a heartbeat that wasn’t human.

At the center stood a man.

His hair was snow-white and stark against the gloom. His dull gray suit shimmered subtly, as though dusted with starlight. His presence bent the room around him—commanding, theatrical, wrong.

Hex.

He raised his arms toward the crystals, speaking to them as if they hung on every word.

“Hahah… this is not a taboo. What’s that wish? Oh, star? I wish you to bring anything that is dead back to life in this facility.” His tone sang with manic delight. “It’s not a taboo—it’s an abnormality.”

Then he turned, smile slicing sharp across his face.

“Oh, heh. I was hoping we’d meet again, Mallo.”

Mallo stopped in her tracks. Her rage didn’t vanish—it focused. It condensed into something colder, honed.

Hex chuckled. “What are you doing here? Actually—no, I know. I’ve been watching.” He spread his arms wide. “Surely you’ve figured that out. I have fifty Middle members here. I have them all here. Surely you would have figured it out.”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun. Where did the whimsical girl go? Are your friends shy? Come here. I’m not a threat.”

Behind her, Dante’s voice was low and urgent. “Please rescue Mallo if needed.”

Hyde stirred instantly—awake, gleeful. Jekyll almost scoffed at the manager’s command. She was ready to pounce, ready to take Mallo’s life the moment she was disconnected. Rescue? No. This is perfect. My chance to finally kill her.But Dante’s voice tugged at Jekyll’s mind, a leash she could not ignore. Hyde almost exploded from rage. Jekyll snarled. Fine. I will just do it after all of this is over. Jekyll’s heart hammered. She felt Hyde’s agreement coil in her spine—not obedient, but aligned. Mallo’s words rang in her ears, and she couldn’t help but have the same desire that Hyde did. For once.

Mark, Lenore, and Alex entered behind them, weapons still glistening from the last battle.

Mark raised a brow. “What did we miss?”

His gaze landed on Hex. “Who the hell is that weird-looking guy?”

“Oh, y’all are back,” Dante said, relief slipping into his voice for the first time in minutes.

“We’ve returned from enacting our vengeance,” Lenore replied coolly. She spared Mallo a glance. “What’s with the girl?”

“Mallo’s in a vulnerable state right now,” Dante said. “Be ready to protect her.”

Mark shrugged. “I mean… alright? So who’s the weird guy?”

“All we know is that his name is Hex,” Dante answered.

“This is the guy the grunts were talking about,” Lenore added.

“They’re afraid of him?” Mark asked.

“They work for him,” Dante corrected.

Mark snorted. “He looks like a nerd. I can take him. Can’t believe he’s got the Middle under him.”

Hex extended his hands again, grin widening. “Come on now,” he chimed. “No need to be afraid.”

Jatayu stepped forward, lifting his hands in an exaggerated display of peace. “There you go! I am not your enemy,” he said, his voice loud and theatrical. “I’m just… a humble office representative and owner. I mean no harm, truly.” His expressions were comically dramatic, almost too scripted—every gesture dripping with forced sincerity.

Hyde curled inside Jekyll, whispering like poison behind her ribs. He lies. Every twitch of that face is a mask. He’s performing for us—playing the benevolent fool. Tear the mask, Jekyll, and the actor bleeds. Much preferred if you did Mallo first, though.

Hex tilted his head. “Limbus Company, right?”

“Somewhat,” Lenore replied, her tone flat, guarded, unwilling to offer even a scrap of information.

Hex’s eyes narrowed. “And who were you? I don’t remember dealing with you.” His gaze drifted, sharp as a scalpel. “What are you—big brother’s blackies?”

Mark immediately slid in front of Lenore, his posture bristling. “Are you trying to disrespect Big Sis Lenore, manager of U Corp?”

Hex observed him with a lazy, predatory curiosity. “Why are you here, then? Did they call for backup? I can show you around.” He broke into a sharp, grating laugh. “Okay, fine—you’re not tricking me. I’ve been watching you. Lenore, right? You’re like… a crappier version of me.”

Lenore’s shoulders tightened.

Hex pointed to Mark. “And you—your attitude? You acted like me and Mallo when we were married.”

The entire group froze.

“What?!” Mark shouted. His arm shot out toward Mallo, then back at Hex, wildly oscillating. “Hold—no. No, no, no. You’re not about to imply I act like I’m married to this hag!”

Jekyll paused for a moment. She was married?! Is that why she has toxic mother tendencies? She talked as if… Jekyll slowly started to piece things together, but one thing was missing.

Where is her child?

Hex smirked, amused. “How old do you think we are?”

“Forty-eight?” Mark guessed bluntly.

Hex shrugged. “That’s average. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Oh, you’re a kid.”

Mark’s jaw clenched. “Talk crap and I’ll take you on.”

Hex’s smile widened like a slit in paper. “I don’t want to be your enemy. I have a… thing on my back. A friend. I wouldn’t recommend pushing it.”

“So?” Mark snapped, undeterred.

“You could fight me. Big mistake.” Hex waved a hand dismissively. “But I’m not interested in that. You’re Limbus Company. You’re here for the tree thing. I don’t really care. I can give it to you. I don’t need it.”

Mark turned to Mallo, throwing his hands up. “Can you reel in your ex? He’s crazy.”

Hex’s laughter echoed off the candy-crystal walls. “I am much stronger than her.”

Mark scoffed. “Have you seen her fight? She’s incapable. Even I can take her.”

“Don’t insult her right now,” Jatayu warned sharply.

“What’s the problem?” Mark asked, genuinely confused.

Then Mallo’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Why are you here?”

Hex’s smile softened, but the gleam in his eyes only sharpened. “You’ve been looking for me,” he said. “And I’ve been looking for you.” He tapped the side of his head. “You weren’t exactly quiet when you were screaming at your friends. Who’s your leader? Dante?”

He gestured casually, like this was a business lunch. “Come on. We are both small offices. Strike a deal with me.”

Mark leaned toward Dante and muttered, “Think he’s losing it? Are we beating him up or…?”

Dante didn’t look away from Mallo. “Don’t worry about him. If he’s being honest, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

His eyes stayed fixed on her—watching her, assessing her, preparing for the worst.

Mark walked up to Mallo and waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello? Mallo? Do you hear me?” He snapped his fingers.

Mallo’s hand shot out like a trap springing. She clamped onto Mark’s wrist—tight. Too tight.

“Ow—ow—ow—okay, you’re here, can you let go?” Mark hissed through gritted teeth.

Mallo finally threw his hand away with a sharp flick.

“Geez—okay,” he muttered, rubbing the red mark forming on his arm.

Hex’s voice floated back toward them. “You haven’t changed all these years, have you? You want revenge on me?” He tsked softly. “That’s cute. So sweet. You’re going to want to attack me, right? Here—one free shot.”

He pointed at Mark.

“Come on,” Hex taunted, his voice smooth as lacquered wood and just as cold. The grin he wore was far too sharp, stretching across his face like a wolf baring its teeth behind the mask of civility. He lifted his spear-staff with a flourish, its metal catching the dim light. “Just one shot.”

Dante trembled beside the group, fingers twitching anxiously at the edge of his coat. His voice cracked as he muttered, “Mallo… Mallo might distort soon. I know she said she wouldn’t, but—”

“Well, if she does, we kill her. She comes back. Easy enough,” Lenore replied, shrugging with the kind of casual fatalism only the Sinners could manage.

But Dante’s expression sank like a stone. He swallowed hard. “Not this time…” he whispered, as if confessing something he wished he could take back.

Mark didn’t wait for anyone. He stepped forward and swung.

His fist cracked across Hex’s jaw with a satisfying, brutal snap—an impact so forceful that even Hex, smug and slippery, couldn’t fully dodge it.

Hex stumbled, eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise.

“Really?” Lenore demanded, rounding on Dante. “What happened? Please tell me this thing can’t sever our connection to you.”

“No,” Dante said quickly, shaking his head. “She can’t. Mallo—she struck at Jekyll first, elbowed me aside, and said she didn’t need our help.” His voice trembled, the guilt woven through it unmistakable. “I… broke the connection.”

Before anyone could respond, Mark swung again—this time with full weight, full intent, and zero hesitation. His knuckles connected squarely with Hex’s cheek. The blow twisted Hex’s head to the side, and a spray of blood followed the motion like punctuation.

Mark wiped his hand on his coat, grinning. “I nailed your wife earlier. Thought I’d take a shot at the husband as well.”

Hex chuckled at that—actually chuckled—as he steadied himself. He reached into a pocket, retrieving a shimmering gem that pulsed softly with a terrible, deliberate light. He pressed it into a slot near the top of his staff. The weapon hummed, and a small glowing circle formed at the head, like an ominous halo.

“You know,” Hex said conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather, “I really did try to make this fair. Truly. But it was wrong of me to assume Mallo would ally herself with someone smart. She’s impulsive, reckless. You, Mark, are exactly the same.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Honestly, she could be your parent.”

Mark gagged, recoiling. “What the hell is wrong with you? And looking at you? She clearly has terrible taste in men.”

Hex barked a laugh. Blood—his own—drifted upward, swirling around him like strands of red silk pulled by invisible hands. It gathered along the length of his glowing spear, clustering near the blade in an almost ceremonial fashion.

“Well then,” Hex murmured, grin widening. “Let’s continue.”

Hex brought the weapon down toward Mark in a vicious, sweeping arc—fast enough that the air cracked around it.

Mark jerked aside, boots skidding, the force of the strike sending sparks across the floor.

Lenore let out a low whistle. “And you cut her off? Wow. I’m not sure whether to say I’m glad or horrified.”

Alex’s head tilted, eyes narrowing with cold calculation. “This does not prevent her distortion threat, my lord. Would you like me to proceed regardless?”

Dante stiffened, shoulders tightening. “I—I meant it as a scare tactic,” he muttered, guilt thick in his voice. “God, I think I just made things worse.” He swallowed hard. “If we need to, knock her unconscious. If you can.”

Mark shook out his arms, wincing as he straightened. “I’ll say one thing—both of you really suck at killing me.” His grin widened. “Alex, do your thing.”

Alex’s voice stayed perfectly level. “Disable the target… or knock out Mallo?”

“Screw him up,” Mark snapped.

Alex bowed his head. “At once, my lord.”

Lenore’s voice cracked through the chaos. “Manager, are we engaging?”

“Get her out of here!” Dante shouted, pointing sharply toward Mallo. “NOW!”

But Mallo wasn’t listening. She surged forward, shovel raised like a warhammer, her breath ragged, her movements wild and furious. The shovel looked heavy—too heavy—her arms trembling beneath its weight as she swung in a brutal arc.

Hex darted back, the motion almost elegant in contrast. “You always were predictable!” he called, laughter sharp and cruel.

Mark’s chains whipped out again, the metal links flashing as they wrapped around Hex’s leg. Hex stumbled, falling hard to one knee.

“Agh—” Hex snarled, eyes flashing with annoyance more than pain. “Honestly? I’m disappointed.” He stood, brushing dust from his sleeve with theatrical disdain. “I thought you were better than this, Mallo. I truly don’t have time for this. Why—yes, I know.” He flicked his gaze toward the abnormality looming behind him. “Star. Dreaming person.”

The abnormal’s head tilted, its many-faceted face glowing faintly in response.

Hex smirked. “I wish they were dead.”

“Hex—!” Lenore snapped, stepping forward, but it was too late.

Hex hopped backward, almost gleeful. “Doodleloo~”

A shivering hum rippled through the air—then suddenly, with a sound like glass shattering underwater, dozens of crystallized stars burst into existence around them. They hovered in the air like frozen explosions, each one emitting a cold, unnatural light.

The temperature dropped instantly.

Jatayu’s feathers flared in alarm. “I… I don’t think this is normal.”

Understatement.

The environment twisted—walls refracted, shadows fractured, reflections multiplied until the team’s own silhouettes stared back at them from impossible angles. The crystalline stars pulsed, each beat synchronized with some deeper, unseen force.

Dante staggered, gripping his head as if the shifting world pressed against his skull.

And in the center of it all, Jekyll felt Hyde rise behind her like a second heartbeat.

Pretty, Hyde whispered. Sharp. Let them cut. Let them all cut. Her grin burned at the edge of Jekyll’s mind. Protect Dante. Kill the rest.

Jekyll forced steady breaths, tightening her grip on the brush. Duty hammered through her chest with every thrum of the crystalline lights.

One task. One priority. Protect Dante. Even if it meant letting Mallo fall. Even if it meant stepping over her dying body. Even if Hyde screamed for blood and Hex’s madness filled the air.

This world—shifting, glittering, lethal—was now a stage built on tension, fear, and betrayal.

And Jekyll stood at the center, bracing herself as the stars around them moved.

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