Twelve people from Itabashi Ward wouldn't leave his head. Room 103 of Corpo Minase. Denji sat on the floor, notebook open. Pochita rested on his lap. Warm. He turned the page. "Itabashi Ward—Demon Mass Outbreak." His handwriting. Same as last night. He'd changed the Bat Demon. Saved Power. In exchange, twelve strangers died. Couldn't erase it. Denji closed the notebook. Today was day seven. In his previous memory, the Eternity Demon appeared at the business hotel "Camuro Plaza" on day eight—midday. Meaning today or tomorrow. No time. He had to plan. The Eternity Demon's core location. Weaknesses. Attack sequence. He ran his pen across the notebook, organizing the previous memory. His phone rang. "Makima" appeared on the screen. ＊ Special Division Headquarters, fourth floor. Makima's office sat at the end of the hallway. Denji stopped before the door. Took one deep breath. (Smile. Play dumb. That's all.) He knocked. Entered. The office was spacious. Beyond the window, Chiyoda Ward's sky hung gray. Makima sat in a chair before her desk. Long black hair flowed down her back. Red eyes looked at Denji. A smile. Always that—temperature-less smile. "[gentle]Thank you for coming, Denji." "[serious]You called, so I came." Denji sat in the chair across from her. One table's distance between them. Makima said nothing. Just watched him. Peaceful face. Smiling. It was terrifying. The silence was terrifying. This person measured humans with her eyes. "[gentle]You've changed lately, Denji." Her voice had no temperature. Soft, but no temperature. "[gentle]Like you know everything." Sweat seeped into Denji's palms. He laughed—a forced laugh. Consciously moved his facial muscles. "[serious]What're you talking about? I'm an idiot, so I don't think about anything." "[gentle]Is that so?" Makima tilted her head slightly. Her red eyes narrowed. "[gentle]Aki said your training form changed too. Like your defensive movements are calculated." (Aki said that?) Something cold traced down the back of his neck. Aki was sharp. Had he seen that much? "[serious]Aki's just too strong. I'm just struggling to keep up." Two seconds of silence. "[gentle]I see. Then I'm relieved." Makima smiled. As if that was the end. She lowered her eyes to documents. "[gentle]Be careful on tomorrow's mission. The Camuro Plaza hotel. We've received reports of a demon." "[serious]...Understood." He stood. Faced the door. His legs were heavy. Walked. Opened the door. Stepped into the hallway. The door closed—his knees buckled. He pressed his hand against the wall. His back slid down. He sat on the floor. No good. Those eyes. They were trying to confirm something. She didn't fully believe. She suspected. He didn't even know how much she'd figured out. Denji pressed his forehead to his knees. (If she finds out, it's over. I'll be frozen with the previous memory.) Alone in the hallway. Only the sound of air conditioning in the distance. ＊ Next morning. Day eight. Five Special Division members gathered before the business hotel "Camuro Plaza" in Shinjuku Ward. A seven-story hotel three minutes' walk from the subway station. Ordinary-looking. White exterior walls. Revolving doors. Front desk lights. But from the front, the windows were too dark. Morning, yet every room pitch black. Aki stood before the five. 182 centimeters. Black hair. Sharp gray eyes. Expressionless, he looked at everyone. "[serious]Demon appearance confirmed. Civilians already evacuated. We enter and find the core. Nobody separates." Power scratched her head beside Denji. "[sarcastic]You look pale. You okay?" "[serious]I'm fine." He pushed the revolving door. The moment he entered—the air changed. Rotten. Sweet, cloying stench of decaying organs. The front counter was empty. The carpet was wet, dark red. One step forward. Another step. The wall twitched. Denji stopped. Looked at the wall. Beneath the white wallpaper—something was moving. Thin tubes. Pulsing. Blood vessels. Blood vessels ran through the walls. Liquid dripped from the ceiling. Dark red. One drop. Two drops. Then all at once. "[serious]It's different." The words came out. Involuntary. Aki turned around. "[cold]Different how." A sound came from the hallway's depths. A dragging sound. A tentacle. Thirty centimeters in diameter at least. Dark red. The surface glistened with mucus. Its tip extended toward the last Special Division member. "Run!" Too late. The tentacle's tip pierced the man's abdomen. The sound of flesh tearing. Wet. Vivid. The man made no sound. He fell forward. The tentacle retracted. Disappeared into the wall. The man's body remained on the carpet. The carpet turned red. Spreading. His face still held surprise. His eyes moved. Toward the wall. Then slowly stopped. Power made a small sound. "[scared]...This is bad." Aki immediately took combat stance. "[serious]Everyone retreat while searching for the core. Don't scatter." ＊ They fought while retreating down the hallway. Aki extended his right hand. Summoned the Fox Demon—a massive jaw tore through space, biting into the flesh wall. This worked in the previous memory. The jaw entered the wall. It could work—. Wrong. The flesh wall began pulling. Sucking. Trying to drag the jaw in. Aki's body lurched forward. His arm was dragged. "[scared]Aki!" Denji grabbed Aki's arm with both hands. Pulled him back. Forced the contract with the fox to break. The jaw vanished. Aki stumbled. Denji caught him. "[serious]Let go." "[angry]Not letting go. The fox doesn't work—it gets sucked in." Aki's eyes narrowed. Denji pulled the starter. Deployed the chainsaw. Slashed into the flesh wall. The blade bit. Yellow fluid sprayed from the cut. There was resistance. But—it sealed in seconds. Regenerated. The cut closed with a wet sound. (Fast. More than twice as fast as the previous memory.) He slashed again. It sealed again. Blood was running out. His body grew heavy. Power kept throwing blood spears at the flesh wall. The spears stuck. But couldn't be pulled out. The wall absorbed them. The three were isolated in the hallway. The exit behind them was sealed by flesh wall. Power looked around. Her usual bravado was gone. Her voice was smaller. "[scared]...Where's the exit?" He couldn't answer. Denji had no answer. The strategy from the previous memory was to eat for three days and nights straight. Cut with the chainsaw. When it regenerated, cut again. Exhaust it. That was all. But this regeneration was too fast. His stamina would run out first. (Did changing the Bat Demon incident send energy here?) His attempt to protect his comrades had made the demon before him stronger. The flesh wall began slowly closing in around the three. ＊ Stalemate continued. Denji was out of blood. Couldn't move. Power's spears were absorbed. Aki couldn't use the fox. The flesh wall crept closer. Then. A voice came. From within the wall. Low. Like an earthquake rumbling, but clear. "You're not the only one who rewound." Denji's thoughts stopped. "The one who rewound." His heart beat once. Hard. "[surprised]...What do you mean?" His voice didn't come. It cracked. "There's another. Smarter than you. Much crueler." The flesh wall trembled. Blood fell from the ceiling. One drop. Another. Then all at once. Denji clenched his teeth. "[angry]Who? Who are you talking about?!" He screamed. His voice echoed down the hallway. The demon laughed. Just its voice laughing. No answer came. Only laughter, rippling from within the flesh wall, then stopping. Aki grabbed Denji's arm. Hard. "[cold]What was that voice? You know something, don't you?" Denji couldn't answer. (Another person who rewound.) Smarter. Crueler. Those words stuck in his chest, wouldn't come out. Someone like him, doing it over. Moving somewhere. Their purpose—might not be the same as his. "[cold]Denji." "[serious]...I can't answer." Aki's eyes narrowed. He understood this wasn't the time to dig deeper. He didn't ask further. ＊ The flesh wall's compression accelerated. Power threw blood spears with everything she had. Spears stuck. Wall absorbed. Stuck. Absorbed. "[angry]What is this?! It goes through but doesn't work?!" The hallway's width dropped below two meters. Aki closed his eyes once. Denji saw it. Understood immediately. (Stop.) Aki rolled up his left sleeve. Black marks ran beneath the skin of his forearm. Contract marks. A curse demon contract—using it drained his lifespan each time. Aki knew this. Yet he contracted anyway. The obsession to avenge the Gun Demon kept him alive. He'd mortgaged his own life. "[serious]Aki, that's—" Aki extended his left arm forward. Black mist rose. Unraveling from his arm like thread. Cold smoke. It filled the hallway, converging toward the wall's depths—where the core should be. A deep sound. Not an explosion. Deeper. A sound that resonated in bones. Part of the flesh wall charred. Collapsed. Blackened. Crumbled to the floor. Not an exit, but the compression stopped momentarily. At the same time, Aki fell to one knee. Blood poured from his mouth. Not a trickle. A flood. It fell on the carpet. Aki pressed one hand to the floor, supporting his body. His face was pale. "[angry]Stop! Aki! Don't use that!" He screamed. His voice cracked. Aki pushed against the floor with his hand, standing up. He wiped his blood-wet mouth with his sleeve. The sleeve turned red. "[cold]Shut up. Don't talk back to your senior." His voice stayed low. His breathing was ragged, but his voice stayed quiet. In his eyes, the flame of revenge burned. Until he killed the Gun Demon, he couldn't die. Even if it cost his lifespan, he had to survive here. That's what those eyes said. Denji knew. This accumulation would break Aki. Every time he used it, his lifespan shortened. It piled up. And then—. He had to stop it. Had to. But. His voice died. What could he say? "I know your future"? Couldn't say that. Makima would hear immediately. And even if he said it—this Aki wouldn't stop. This man moved entirely on hatred for the Gun Demon. Denji couldn't think of words that would stop him. Power looked between Aki and Denji. As if she understood something, she started to speak, then closed her mouth. Unusually silent. The flesh wall moved again. The area beside the charred part bulged. Denji raised his chainsaw. Not enough blood. His body was heavy. But he couldn't stop. Another person who rewound. Much crueler. Those words alone spun endlessly in his head.