Chapter 16: Invictus

Something was off, and she knew it. Makima frowned under the burlap sack covering her face. She angled her head upwards, ignoring the pinching sensation in her neck from the little gadget they had installed into her nape.

Her nose picked up a scent that wasn't supposed to be here. It's very smell wafting gently through the air amidst the mildew and earthen stench in this basement.

The very notion was improbable – everything was accounted for in case of capture, and yet… why was her prized pawn's scent lingering around in a place like this?

And what's more…. Her ears were picking up the faint sounds of screaming from the aid of the crows lingering about the Yakuza estate – the voice all too familiar and her eyebrows furrowed into disappointment.

So that's how it is…

A meticulous plan that was supposed to let her marinate in here for a while until she could get her hands on two particularly interesting Yakuza is likely never going to bear any fruit now.

The little fox I wanted hasn't come here in the slightest to gloat about her victory over me. Usually most of her ilk would've done the same, like that old man and his little lapdogs. Must've scurried off into a crack I'll have to find later…. A shame.

The girl was a loose end; she had information she wasn't supposed to have. Makima needed to snip it in the bud, or rather in this case, snap the girl's neck. But not before sifting through where she got info on her identity, location, and such.

Someone leaked it. Someone who wasn't supposed to.

The girl's whereabouts, as well as that blonde one, were the main reasons she stayed and entertained their little game.

Her annoyance was quickly quelled as her expression returned to neutral under the burlap sack. It was good timing, really. She was going to save this moment for when Akiyama came down so she could sap all the info from the source, but time was of the essence now. No point in trying to extract information when a main pawn was on the line.

The door to her cell opened and in came Dr. Nakaoka with his cart of various medical instruments. He meekly apologized to the guards outside and began his usual work. Her body was getting better and better at acclimating to whatever was being pumped into her. It kept her conscious for a few seconds longer, and those precious few seconds were all she needed.

Her nose picked up the Doctor's familiar scent of bergamot cologne mixed in with sweat. He was easy pickings.

"A-ah… S-sorry for the delay, Miss." Dr. Nakaoka spoke quietly, wheeling in his cart of many medical apparatuses, syringes, and vials. He halted and began pulling her sleeve up to gain access to her upper arm.

Doctor Nakaoka then administered another dose of drugs into her system while also replacing her IV bag. She felt the cooling sensation of IV shooting up into her arm. "I had hoped that by doing these—Haugh… I…" Slowly, she felt his willpower lessen and give in to her control.

A meek little man had no chance of resisting her, and he was the key to her escape.

He knelt, quickly using a pair of scissors to cut the thick tape covering her eyes and mouth. He then used his own hands to pry the needles stuck in her arms that had been sedating her for so long.

She heaved a sigh of relief, shaking out the fatigue and brain fog that cluttered her head and senses for a week straight.

Makima peered over her shoulder a little to see the box-cuffs firmly locked onto her hands. It felt like a thick gelatinous blob was crammed into the box alongside her precious hands. They prevented any kind of finger-movement and were ridiculously heavy. Every time she tried to move them a jolt of electricity shocked her arms.

Annoying and restricting is what they were.

She needed the key, but there was no time to play treasure-hunt. Makima eyed the guards' assault rifles as they entered in to see why the doctor was taking so long.

"O-oi! What the fuck, Doc! What's gotten into you?! Light her ass up!" The fat guard's eyes widened in surprise as he aimed his rifle at her, but her little minion was faster.

Doctor Nakaoka jumped in the line of fire, taking the full brunt of a point-blank barrage from two heavily powered rifles. His thin frame erupting in a mist of blood and bullet holes. He flopped over dead, and the guards attempted to reload to try again, but they were too late.

Their entire postures slacked forward. They had contented smiles on their faces as they walked on over to her, the skinnier guard helping to pry off the duct-tape on her mouth.

She stood up from her chair and faced the wall, straightening her wrists out for them. "Shoot my arms." Makima ordered calmly.

"Of course!"

"A-anything for you!"

They stood at the ready and began unloading their bullets into Makima's wrists and forearms. The incredibly loud bullets echoed out through the basement's walls as she closed her eyes, awaiting the brief pain that ensued.

It wasn't pretty or clean by any means. It took a while, and a few reloads to get it at the way she so desired.

Quirk related handcuffs like these were finnicky yet impressive, even to her. But, as luck would have it, they didn't at all account for her healing factor.

By the time they were finished, her arms were hanging on by threads of tendon and meat. She looked over to Dr. Nakaoka's medical cart and ordered the men to finish off their work by sawing off what was left.

She hummed and waited for the bloody stumps where the box-cuffs once were, begin to heal and re-build themselves in an orderly fashion – starting from the bone, blood, tendons, muscles, and skin.

"Ah, much better." She held her hands up to inspect them before standing up.

Makima and her crew turned around at the slightest sound of whimpering as her eyes caught the glimpse of another Yakuza guard scrambling to grab a radio, his eyes filled with terror.

"B-boss! I need—"

"Bang." A loud crack echoed throughout the basement as the man's midriff disappeared into nothingness, as his upper half fell into a meaty plop onto the ground.

"Hey, what's the god damn noise down here for?! Thought I said no goofing around—" A stocky Yakuza dressed in a similar suit to the others gasped at the sight. "W-what the fuck?!" He shouted to someone upstairs. "O-oi! Get down here! Need back up!"

More came downstairs to see the commotion and they took cover in the stair well, the numerous dusty boxes littering the hallway, and even in adjacent cells.

She stepped past the man's corpse and scanned how many of them there were.

"Yo… how the hell she get them cuffs off? Thought them shits supposed to be anti-quirk proof!" One of them nervously asked.

"The fuck should I know? Just keep shootin' the bitch. It's obvious she's tryna escape!"

"But the boss said—"

"Just shoot her!"

The entire hallway erupted into a cacophony of bullet fire as her new minions gladly dashed forward, being her meat shields and soaking up a majority of the attack.

A Yakuza with bushy sides burns began reloading and he sneered. "C'mon! She's just one girl! Shoot—E-eh…?" He looked behind him to see why his fellow men stopped shooting, only to see that they were instead aiming the barrels of their guns into their mouths. "O-oi… W-what's gotten into you lot! I—Wah….W-wait!"

He his knees in flash. "P-please! D-don't do this! I-I was just following orders!" The Yakuza's own arms gave way as his arms aimed the barrel into his mouth. "PWAHEASE! DUNN'T—"

Multiple shots rang out - blood splattered from behind their heads and plastered the dirty walls of the basement. Their bodies fell to the floor.

Makima began heading up the stairs, the mildew stench combined with the smell of gunpowder dissipating as she took each step higher to the exit.

When she opened the door, a wave of fresh air hit her face, as well as the orange hues of the evening sky. It was refreshing after being cooped up in a basement all week long. She left the little shack she was apparently trapped in, and her eyes rested onto the fine estate of what she assumed was her captor's home.

Its appearance is more traditional and gaudier than the one she had been to previously. What lay inside was a den of pests that were walking dinosaurs from a bygone era, and all she had to do was squander it under her heel.

And what made it more of a nuisance is that those pests had her prized pawn in their hands – thinking as if they had the upper hand.

The main fossil leading this whole operation had been playing in candy-land this whole time. Nothing about it was noteworthy besides getting the surprise on her.

Hitoshi Shinso was hers and she wasn't going to allow him to die here.

He had a much bigger role to play after all.

Makima stepped past more corpses as she made her way to the estate's front door.

"Hah!"

"Yeah, keep gruntin' ya little shit. Fuckin' tell me what I need to know." She slapped his face hard.

"Gllk!"

"Fuckin' brat. Still goin' on about that bullshit?" Another sharp pain struck his chin from her hand. "Huh?!" The muscular woman, who he's come to know as Big Sis, continued to pummel his bruised and battered stomach as he was hanging from a ceiling – his wrists being held up by tightly bound rope that dug into his skin.

"I-I…." He barely gasped, trying to suck in any air he could. "I told you…. I don't know-GAH!" Shinso screamed out as the woman's callused finger pressed against an open wound on his side, effectively digging into his flesh.

Her meaty finger dug and twisted around before she pulled it away with a sudden tug, making the air leave his body again.

"Old man's getting' real tired of your bullshit, kid." She wiped the bloody finger on a tanned apron she had on – his blood faded and prominent on it from all the times she wiped her hands clean of the previous torture sessions. "Hell, even I'm gettin tired of this farce you keep on playing!"

She laughed and pushed him away, letting him dangle around for a few seconds as she took a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke into his face with a dark chuckle. "Felt a bit sorry for you at first before I found out you sent them poor kids to death, ya know."

"I-I told you… that wasn't me…."

"Ain't the way I or the world sees it, kid. You're a psychopath is what'cha are. The sooner you cooperate the sooner you can leave."

Hypocrite… you're the psychopath here… torturing a kid.

That's what he wanted to say, but he knew it'd only enrage her further.

Just as she was about to put out her cigarette on his arm and add another burn-scar to his collection, she got a call on her phone.

The big woman groaned and pulled it out with a hiss. "What? I'm busy here—huh?" Her face immediately turned into a furrowed frown. "How…?!" The voice on the phone was faint, but it sounded frantic. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck! I'll be down soon. Bring that gadget Asuka had set up for us; tell the old man to use that gadget in case shit gets dicey. And don't let her get to the boss!"

She stomped out of the torture room and shouted at some people outside of his cell. "Guard the kid. I don't want that bitch anywhere near her little junior. He's our negotiation piece. Got it?!"

"Y-yeah, course, boss."

Her…? The Control Killer…? She's here?

Shinso didn't know to be terrified or relieved. Maybe both. He looked to the left and right and saw the other two guards that were in this cell with him. He'd hoped to use his quirk on one of them, but it was useless. Any time he tried; he'd be met with a rifle butt struck into his midsection again.

The thunderous roar of bullet fire echoed from outside, and it startled him a bit. He tried to dangle himself to the sound, but it was hard when his entire body ached. Still, if gunshots were being fired, the police or a hero is bound to start coming soon.

Still, he had to get out of here. Before he's swooped off by either these Yakuza again, or worse, by the Control Killer herself. He had to get out of here. Maybe go to the authorities and tell them what he knows. He'd have to grab the polaroids – maybe burn them or keep them for evidence….

His eyes moved upwards to the guards. He'd have to provoke them somehow. Get them to respond to his quirk.

They were dressed in matching business suits with black sunglasses. Typical Yakuza attire. They were sitting on stools, twiddling their thumbs, or browsing through their phones as they kept their rifles holstered.

"S-so… you two Big Sis' lapdogs? Her little bitches?" He said weakly, though his smug expression was quickly soured as they didn't answer him. In fact, they just outright ignored him.

Damn it….

"What…? Afraid of a little boy? Thought you gangsters didn't take shit from nobody…"

Again, they didn't answer, continuing to browse through their phones as if he wasn't all that special.

He was beginning to sweat. This was likely his only chance of escaping with whatever was causing the commotion outside. He had to think of something to anger these guys. Anything that would tarnish their pride….

He grinned and looked at them again. "You know… If I didn't know any better, ain't you guys supposed to be top shit? Why're you serving Big Sis anyway? She beat you two black and blue and you two just let her?" He licked his bruised lip, scrambling his brain for more insults. "Maybe she wears the pants in your relationship? Is that why you two guys are glued to her ass all the time? Always see you to with her in here with me."

A twitch from the broad-shoulder Yakuza.

Good, good. Get mad.

"Oh, hit a nerve? Heh… You're probably the bottom bitch, aren't you? Bet you ask Big Sis for the strap-on, I bet." He looked over to the Yakuza's buddy beside him. "And I bet you clean off the shit-stained strap-on once she's done with his ass."

The other one, a lankier guy with a rat-tail of a hairstyle scowled as he stopped looking at his phone.

"Guess that confirms it if you're not denying it. Guess your guys' chocolate starfishes must be sore from all the dick-riding, huh?"

Mr. Broad shoulders stood up from his stool with a heavy breath as he stomped on over. "Fuckin' brat! I'll show you!"

"We're gonna beat your ass!" His little buddy joined him, his expression full of fury as he spat spittle onto his face.

Shinso's heart soared as his quirk finally activated – their eyes turning blank as their expressions faded. "Finally…"

He looked between the two and smiled. "Help me down and carry me to safety. Get me as far away from this place as possible." He ordered with a relieved sigh as they began undoing his bindings and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. He winced as the various wounds riddled over his body stung and reminded him of the fact that he needed medical attention. Everything hurt.

Almost out of here….

All he had to do now was navigate through this chaos.

"N-no…! Please! Don't kill me—"

"Bang." She didn't care for the Yakuza's pleading as his head disappeared into nothingness. She kicked his lifeless body aside and pushed open the front doors, her eyes narrowed into slits as they scanned the audacious vestibule of this gaudy estate.

A giant golden chandler hung above with crystalline droplets shone brightly above. More Yakuza took up spots in the vestibule's reception desk, the stairwells, and hiding behind the marble pillars upholding the ceiling.

Her shoes clicked against the marble flooring as she used her nose to try and find where Shinso was, but she was soon halted by a line-up of Yakuza, followed by that arrogant old man no less. He swaggered on through the place with his case, confident and pleased.

"I didn't think you'd escape." He leaned on his cane and flashed her a toothy grin. "You just get more interesting by the minute, child."

She lowered her finger and titled her head. "I believe you have something of mine. I'd ask that you return him to me, or else."

The Yakuza all guffawed and snickered. "Or else what, dear? I think you have the situation entirely confused with something. It should be the other way around. So, why don't you stand down and go back to your cell." Akiyama's voice got sterner as he slammed his cane down onto the floor.

"I refuse."

"Tch… Maybe this will persuade you." He held up a rectangular device with several nobs and glowing buttons.

"And what is that supposed to be?" She titled her head forward, her eyes narrowing again as she began counting the number of Yakuza in this open space.

28… No, there's bound to be more upstairs. Possible more than thirty then.

He fiddled with a few buttons and Makima felt a sharp pain reverberate throughout her body as her legs gave way.

The Yakuza all relaxed as soon as they saw her on her knees.

"It's what will make you bend to my will, child. You've only brought this upon yourself by escaping."

The Yakuza all laughed, and Akiyama had the audacity to smugly hobble on over and kneel to her level. "Look what you've made us do." He used his cane to push and prod her numb legs. "Hah. Maimed like a disobedient pup. Oh well," Akiyama placed a hand on her shoulder. "You won't be needing them anytime soon for my ambitions. All I need is your quirks. Its all we ask of you really. Big Sis," He tore his attention away from her gaze.

The wild-maned woman scratched her head and looked at him. "Yeah?"

Makima ignored the man's words as he was giving orders to his subordinates in front of her. She focused her power, putting pressure into his cranial cavity. The very idea of having this roach continue to persist disgusted her. He and his ilk had no place in this world, or any for that matter.

"—And make sure you take her back to her cell, and ensure she stays there. We'll just have to kill the boy—" The man stopped mid-sentence, noticing blood trickling down his nose. He pressed two fingers to confirm what was happening and barely got a look at her. "Gueh… Heuh…." Akiyama stumbled back quickly, trying to make distance between him and herself.

But the old fool was too late. He fell to his knees and slumped forward – his cane falling and clanging loudly against the floor. The corners of his eyes and ears leaked blood as it dripped down and stained his kimono and white shirt.

Gasps and curses were all she heard from all around her. She felt the room beginning to fill up with a collective emotion that empowered her: fear.

Shinso's eyes couldn't believe what he was seeing – the Control Killer – the one responsible for his ruined reputation, here in the flesh. He peered through the off-white balustrade as he hid behind it – watching the scene from above on the second floor.

The woman, Makima they called her, covered head to toe in blood. Her shirt's sleeves torn and bloodied heavily as she squared off against the roomful of armed maniacs.

Before the devil could speak, Shinso jumped a bit as they all opened fire. The room turned into a loud cacophonous choir of gunfire. The rain of bullets came from all corners of the vestibule. Pistols and small submachine guns shot wildly at Makima. Each shot pierced though her guts, legs, and face. She fell to the floor next to the old man – who Shinso assumed was that old man from yesterday.

His own heart was racing, likely just as much as those Yakuza down there, each of them, himself included, praying that was the end of her.

They all reloaded and fired again at her corpse – a plume of blood kept coming off her body as the last few shots echoed throughout the estate.

Shinso almost retched at the grisly sight of the woman's body that the Yakuza just unloaded their entire clips into. Half her face, from what he could see from this far away, was missing. Bullet holes littered her body from head to toe.

"Fuckin' hell… Oi, what's the damage for our old man? Is he…?" Shinso caught the voice of Big Sis as she ordered a grunt to check on the corpse, who shook his head in dismay.

"Damn… Don't know how the bitch did it but guess that's it for the revival of the Yakuza, I guess. Fuck. Them old farts the boss made promises to ain't gonna be too happy." She sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "Flew too close to the sun, boss. Sorry ya ended up that way. I'll have to let Kaz and Asuka know about this… Hah… fuck." She cursed loudly and shouted at some of her men. "Well, don't just stand there! We gotta do some cleanup before the police come knocking!"

Shinso's eyes widened.

Big Sis groaned. "Y'all go deaf or something!?" She stomped on over to one of her men and slapped him hard. "Didn't ya hear me, or you got a death wish?!"

Impossible… That's…

Several more Yakuza downstairs all dropped their guns and backed away.

"What the fuck are you lookin—"

There she was, standing back up like a living zombie. The upper half of her forehead was dripping with blood as it trailed down her face as she looked at them all. Her white shirt and black slacks drenched in the crimson liquid.

The bullet holes in her clothing were all there, but… the wounds they left were gone. It's as if it never happened.

I saw you die… you died… How….?

Shinso's brain was scrambled, and he couldn't make sense of it. There was no way he was gonna try and figure that out right now; he had to get out of there. He had to let people know.

"D-demon…" One of the Yakuza screamed out loudly. "Demon!"

More Yakuza dropped their guns and began fleeing.

"Hieeee!"

"M-monster!"

Again, the somewhat braver Yakuza that stayed behind, all unloaded their guns into the woman from what he could hear. The choir of bullets beginning anew in the gunpowder-reeking room.

Shinso ordered his two new minions to carry him off to safety. He didn't dare look back as his dread surged higher as the screams intensified from downstairs.

This was something out of a nightmare. Shinso hadn't ever seen someone get up from a hail of bullets and look completely fine.

What he just saw was someone who literally defied death; a thing that he firmly believed came for everyone, himself included. But to see her alive and well… it was horrifying. Nerve-wracking.

He didn't dare look over his shoulder in fear of seeing her right behind him.

The Yakuza had all run out of bullets and soon charged at her in a final stand under the muscular woman's orders. She must've been a family leader, or maybe one of the lieutenants to the old man who tried to lecture her.

She smiled at the thought of him slowly succumbing to death in the most anti-climactic way. He had the audacity to tell her about the notion of being a necessary evil, but he was wrong. They all were with their pitiful excuses that this world doesn't need nor want.

Makima assumed a fighting stance and looked more than willing to oblige their last stand. She needed to stamp out this infestation after all. If they wanted to be exterminated like the extinct dinosaurs they were, Makima would happily give them that.

The first to touch her and grab her shoulder was treated to a jab to the throat.

Makima didn't relent and struck the offending Yakuza's throat again, pushing and breaking his larynx, feeling, and hearing a distinct crack. Another popped up behind her and she swiftly dodged an overhead strike and ducked down to sweep the legs out from her attacker.

They flopped down and Makima wasted no time and shoved her fingers into the man's eyes, gouging them till blood spurted out. This action made a few hesitantly back away, but Makima rushed another – a woman with an eye patch and she tried to keep a hold of Makima.

Though once she held a firm grasp on her, blood began to seep from her nose and eyes, much like that old man.

She felt a bit of nostalgia for using her bare hands against a living opponent. It's been a while since she's gotten up close and personal.

Not since Chainsaw Man…

Makima pouted at that memory and shook it off by continuing her fight.

A man with a wooden table leg pushed forward and swung with all his might, hoping to strike Makima in the head. She instead kept dodging each swing.

She weaved through another uppercut by Big Sis and kept her focus on the brave soul with the table leg. He swung left and Makima ducked down and got into his guard, she grabbed his neck and squeezed, tearing away the flesh from his neck with a violent spray of blood splashing onto her face.

More Yakuza manned up and poured through.

Makima parried a blow from Big Sis who kept wailing on her with strong punches.

It was clear to her that this muscular lady had been the elite trooper here. To any normal person, their arms would shatter as they tried to block or misdirect her punches, but Makima wasn't any normal being.

It was her chance to test out her own personal strength that's been amplified by the great amount of fear she's received from everyone so far.

She threw her own jabs, and the woman visibly winced as she blocked each one and weaved as a boxer would toward her.

The woman got into her guard and Makima danced between two more yakuza who attempted to overwhelm her.

Makima moved quickly to the left, misdirecting Big Sis's haymaker to hit one of her own. The muscular woman growled, "Stay still!"

Makima was cornered into a wall and four people thought it'd be best to try and pile onto her. Makima caught a fistful of a man's long hair and slammed his face into the wall behind, watching his well-handsome face turn to mush as she slammed it again, breaking every part of his skull as she let go.

One man tried to throw a punch but accidentally let his arm get grabbed by her. "W-wait! P-please—"

She didn't give him time to beg - she responded by twirling like a gator would with its prey, ripping off his arm in one graceful action.

She pushed the one-armed casualty into Big Sis and continued with the next victim.

Even more Yakuza got into the fray, and the muscular woman smirked as if in victory.

"Guess ya time's up, bitch. We'll just keep pouring on in until you get exhausted. We can do this all day."

Makima watched as they all ran into the vestibule, all coming from outside or from upstairs, with brass-knuckles, guns, and knives with eager looks on their faces. Some tried to rush into the fight and dogpile onto her.

They were likely being encouraged and motivated by this Big Sis. That had to change.

She focused her power on their feeble wills to gain their quick obedience.

"This is an order: Kill yourselves." She asked.

They all smiled with blushes on their faces as they pressed the barrels of their guns below their jaws.

"Y-yes, Miss Makima!" A man said as he pressed his large machete to his neck.

"A-anything for you!" A tall woman with braids shouted as she put the barrel of her revolver into her mouth.

"No problem! I'd die to make you happy!" A young man uttered as he angled his katana towards his gut.

The cracks of guns and bodies hitting the floor terrified many of the Yakuza who wanted to attack. They all hesitated and had doubts.

"Don't give up now! She can't control all of us, ya pussies!" The muscular woman cried out as she rallied their weakened morale.

Makima slithered behind one and quickly caught hold of his neck and spun it like a corkscrew, tearing it off and throwing the severed head at another combatant.

"Come here!" The leading woman finally got back to Makima and made for a barrage of punches, each one a flurry of speed and power. Makima blocked each one and pushed her away and got hold of a metal bat from an unfortunate Yakuza who tried to hit her from behind.

She twirled it like a toy and ran towards her, "You're really getting in my way."

"Hah, good! I'mma beat you black 'n blue."

The woman finally landed a good blow on Makima by feinting an uppercut and attacking her chest instead.

"You're not untouchable. I just gotta switch things up." She jumped around on her toes, getting more amped up with a bloodthirsty grin. "Heh, good to know that you're pretty fragile. Was that a rib I cracked?"

Makima suddenly got up in her face and tried to jab her throat like she did the first man. "Oh no, you don't!" The muscled woman cried out as put her arms up in front of her face, effectively blocking the jab. "That trick won't work on me! I've seen that shit before, and I know how to—"

Makima was behind her in an instant and she slammed both palms onto the woman's delicate ears in unison. She yelped and fell onto her knees. This stunned her long enough for Makima to grab a fistful of that white wild hair and pull her head back.

Makima noticed that her opponent's mouth was wide open, trying desperately to breathe, and she got an idea.

She grabbed the end of the bat and angled it towards the woman's gaping maw of a mouth. Her pearly white teeth shining.

The woman widened her eyes as Makima took a hold of her jaw with one hand. She began to forcefully push the bottom end of the bat down her mouth.

The wild woman struggled and bit down on the bat, trying to stop its entry, all the while trying to push away. However, Makima's grip was otherworldly when compared to this pathetic bug's excuse of muscles.

Makima continued to push it further down the offending pest's throat, watching as tears of fear were beginning to form on the edges of the muscled woman's eyes.

"Puhlsss….stahhpppp…glrk…." She groaned out, gagging and trying to keep a firm grip on the bat.

This wouldn't do. She needed to make an example out of one of the remaining big shots that are still in this room. Makima narrowed her eyes at the woman's pleas, and she endured several shots to her back and head from the other Yakuza trying to save their leader.

With one final move, she lodged the bat further down until half of it was buried into the woman's throat.

"GRLK…. HRK…." There was a noticeable bulge in her throat as she tried to pull it out, gagging and suffocating all together.

Many of her lackeys all stopped and succumbed to Makima's control, looking at the scene with apathy.

"Where will I find the boy?" She asked one of the broken Yakuza who had a face of adoration.

"He should be upstairs for you…. Y-you're incredible, miss." The man said with a blush.

"Thank you. Be a dear and gather a group to find those that weren't here. Like the blonde man and the little girl. What were their names?"

"Ah… Kazuma Hisashi and Asuka Oozoru… They don't reside here with Lord Akiyama or Big Sis."

"Oh? And where would I find them?"

"Kazuma went back to his turf back in the Kamino Ward, and Asuka's slicked back to hers near the downtown area."

"Mm… Gather up a crew and bring Asuka to me as soon as possible. And for Kazuma…." She hummed in thought. "Find out where he's located and kill him if you can. If not, just let me know where I can find him. As for the rest of the Yakuza… Scrouge up your patriarchs and get them to provide me with their names. All of them that are currently in Musutafu."

"Anything for you, ma'am!" The scraggly man said with an uncharacteristic smile. "You heard her! Let's go!" A large, sizable group of the remaining Yakuza all unified with grins and happy smiles as they left the two alone in the room filled with blood, bodies, and death itself.

She let out a light chuckle and knelt to the woman known as Big Sis. She was currently on the floor, crying, gagging, and trying her best to pull the bat's length out of her.

Makima looked down at the woman with a frown. "This should be the fate of all you; groveling on the floor, suffocating under the weight of your errors of pretending to be something you're not."

"Hrk…. hrk…"

Slowly, Big Sis crawled over, grabbing onto Makima's ankle with a pleading expression on her face. She had the most primal look of fear plastered onto her face with a mouthful of metal.

"It is quite the sight to see an untrained mutt act as if it needs help." She gently parted Big Sis' bangs to see her eyes. "But you don't. You deserve this. You're not part of the ideal setting that I desire. You have no place here. Not in this world or the next."

She stood up, leaving Big Sis to die there slowly and painfully.

Makima's hand went to her nape as she dug around into it as she searched for the odd thing they planted into her.

With a fleshy tear, she pulled it out and hummed – staring at it before tossing it to the side. Her eyes looked up to the second floor, her nose still picking up the scent of Shinso nearby.

She began to ascend upwards to the stairs with a smile on her face. She had to make sure her prized dog was okay.

"Damn it… Another dead end." Shinso groaned as he ordered his minions to try and carry him elsewhere that had an alternate exit. He'd hoped that one of these doors upstairs would lead to a room that had a another set of stairs leading to another place. Anywhere that didn't lead back to the hell zone happening downstairs.

He ruffled through his pockets and stared at the polaroids in his possession. Each one contained incriminating evidence of him working alongside Makima.

It hurt his heart as he shuffled through a few of the pictures to find one of her in his own house no less – sitting at a dinner table with his parents.

How long has this been going on?

If he showed these to someone on the side of the law, what would happen?

He already had an answer for that; he'd be tossed into Tartarus the moment someone sees these.

Still, should he keep them? Or burn them?

He had no idea if he could trust the law at this point.

What if she's got people on the inside? She'll find me no matter what I do. Should I turn myself in? But then what about my dream of being a Hero…?

He shook his head off the dilemma and just focused on escaping right now. He struggled to stand and had his two controlled Yakuza grunts help him up.

"C'mon. C'mon…" He had the two guys carry him off to the next maze of stairs, hoping it'd lead to another exit somewhere. But by the looks of it, he'd have to sneak downstairs to where he came from. "Alright, let's get going." He latched his arms onto their shoulders for support.

"Oh, so soon?" The voice of the devil said with a soothing tone.

Shinso's heart rate skyrocketed as he turned around and saw the one responsible for all this suffering at the end of the hallway with the most reassuring smile he'd ever seen.

AN:

"You will serve my ambitions, child!"

Makima: *Facial structure morphs into the JOJO art style and the surrounding area changes color* "DAGA KOTOWARU."

XD I need that image.

I feel terrible for Shinso. I'm putting our boy through a lot. Bro needs therapy, some tequila shots, and someone to tell him he's gonna be alright somehow.