“Last time, I settled for half-killing you — this time, we proceed to the FULL kill. Understood?”
”…Hii… hii… HIII!”
CRACK — Ouroboros’s open palm detonated across Miyamoto’s face.
“Agih?!”
And the metronome resumed — CRACK, CRACK — full-swing alternating slaps, over and over.
“Agyuh!”
—CRACK
“Bugih!”
—CRACK
“Gugih!”
—CRACK
“Jajjuh!”
—CRACK
“Joh!”
Exactly like last time, Miyamoto’s cheeks inflated in real time, blowing far past mumps into uncharted territory.
Ah — and like last time, a tooth just flew past.
At this rate, Miyamoto is going to need dentures before age twenty.
“Fo… fogive… blease fogive be… gyah!”
—CRACK
“The pleading of worm-grade filth does not register.”
And the alternating slaps resumed.
—CRACK
“Abibah!”
—CRACK
“Pugih!”
And then — Maria, not to be left out, walked over to Miyamoto’s senpai-looking companion and hoisted HIM one-armed into the air.
“Are you… this dung-beetle’s owner?”
“S-s-stop! STOOOP! N-n-not involved! I’m not involved, I SWEAR!”
“Hm. If truly uninvolved, then I suppose I’ll refrain… I keep no particular hobby of gratuitous full-kills, after all…”
Against Maria’s surprisingly reasonable response, Mayu raised her hand:
“Ah — that’s Nakajima… Atomu-san! He and Miyamoto ran together CONSTANTLY!”
“So you ARE an associate after all!”
“Fo… fogive… stop… blease… gyah!”
—CRACK
“The pleading of dung-grade filth does not register.”
And so began — Maria’s edition, this time — a fresh set of alternating slaps.
—CRACK
“Abibah!”
—CRACK
“Pugih!”
“Shtop… blease shtop… guberah!”
The demon-realm noble duo, I must observe… is terrifying.
Both of them SMILING the entire time, too.
That bottomless smile with zero smile behind the eyes — it never gets less frightening.
And then, once both Miyamoto’s and Atomu’s faces had deformed past the point where Frankenstein’s monster would flee barefoot… a lifeline arrived from the least expected source: Cornelia.
“Ouroboros, Maria… that will do.”
“Eh? How do you mean, Lady Cornelia?”
“These two may be villains, aye. But… earlier this day… they gave me SWEETS. Surely this much punishment suffices. For my sake — spare their lives, at least.”
Cornelia isn’t a bad sort, fundamentally.
Susceptible to food-based domestication… or perhaps just deep-hearted. One of the two.
”…If those are the circumstances, then it cannot be helped.”
And with that, case apparently closed.
Plan: tie them up, route them through Marcus, ship them back to the royal capital.
Ouroboros and Maria — faces registering formal objection — tossed Miyamoto and Atomu aside.
“Ahih… hyah… awawa…”
The two freed men staggered off on jelly legs toward their fallen comrades…
“Ah!”
And everyone present, except Cornelia, crossed themselves in unison.
Because the two of them were genuinely, catastrophically unsteady on their feet.
And directly in their path… sat the outdoor stove, bearing the stockpot of leftover curry from last night’s dinner.
—CRASH-BANG-CLATTER!
The curry, in its entirety, hit the dirt. Total loss.
Ah… the blood is draining from Cornelia’s face. Her shoulders are trembling.
—They’re finished. Last time it was the palm-top rabbits’ landmine. This one is several weight classes heavier.
“Now then… tell me, Miyamoto?”
Cornelia’s smile bloomed — beautiful to the point of gruesomeness, and utterly terrifying.
“Thou art prepared, I trust… to burn in the flames of purgatory?”