Chapter 20: Demon King's Wrath
Silence.
The kind that suffocates.
Yusuke stood in the ruined doorway, fists clenched, chest heaving.
And his eyes—
A deep, glowing red.
His breath hitched.
His mind blanked.
Because he saw.
Everything.
Keiko.
Her body sprawled across the cold, jagged floor. Torn, bleeding, shaking.
Her dress—ripped to shreds.
Her skin—marked with cuts, bruises, and Mikuri's disgusting touch.
The chains.
Her tears.
And him.
Mikuri.
Leaning over her.
Hand still reaching.
Yusuke's stomach dropped.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
His rage—
No.
This wasn't rage.
This was something darker.
Something far worse.
Something that made his whole body feel like it was caving in.
A force so violent, so consuming, that the entire room shook.
The walls splintered.
The air thickened.
Mikuri staggered to his feet, spitting blood onto the ground. He wiped his mouth, smirking.
"Tch. Should've known you'd—"
He never finished.
Because Yusuke disappeared.
BOOM.
A FIST to the gut—so hard, so brutal, that the air in Mikuri's lungs collapsed.
Mikuri's body bent forward, nearly folding in half. His ribs caved inward with a sickening crack.
Then—
CRASH.
Mikuri was launched through the wall.
Yusuke followed.
His fury was volcanic.
His fists trembled.
His chest burned.
But beneath it all—
A wound deeper than any scar.
He almost lost her.
He almost lost her.
If he had been just a second late—
If he had hesitated—
If she had—
His vision blurred.
What am I fighting for?
The thought hit him.
Like a whisper from somewhere deep inside his bones.
He had asked himself that before.
Back then—facing Yomi.
When he thought he had no real reason.
But now?
He knew.
He knew the moment he saw her.
Keiko.
Not as a lover.
Not as some girl from his past.
But as his heart.
His reason.
His everything.
Yusuke's eyes lifted.
Mikuri was dragging himself up, panting, coughing up blood, but grinning.
That same disgusting smirk.
"Heh... got lucky, didn't she?"
Something snapped.
BOOM.
A force erupted from Yusuke—raw, unfiltered destruction.
"You thought you could touch her."
His voice—low, shaking.
"You thought you could just—"
His knuckles cracked.
BAM.
A knee to Mikuri's ribs—another sickening crack.
Mikuri choked.
Yusuke grabbed him by the throat—fingers tightening, squeezing.
"You thought I wouldn't come for her?"
Mikuri gritted his teeth, struggling. But through the pain—
That grin.
That goddamn grin.
"Y—you don't have the balls to kill me."
Wrong words.
Yusuke slammed him into the ground.
CRACK.
The floor split beneath Mikuri's weight.
Blood dripped from Yusuke's clenched fists.
His breath came hard.
He could kill him.
He should.
He should rip him apart, tear him limb from limb, make him beg.
But—
Keiko's voice echoed in his head.
"You're not a monster."
He wasn't.
He was a man.
A man who had everything ripped from him tonight.
Mikuri coughed, spitting blood. His body twitched from the pain, but he still laughed.
"You're—hff—too weak," he wheezed.
Yusuke's boot slammed onto his chest.
Mikuri's body jolted.
He gasped.
Yusuke leaned down, his face cold.
"You're right."
Mikuri smirked.
Yusuke's aura flared.
"I won't kill you."
His fists clenched.
"I'll make you wish I did."