Arata crossed the mansion's hall and pulled one of the wooden chairs toward him before collapsing into it.
He scanned the room, recognizing the rustic tables and the pine counter where, according to his darkest memories, the large bisento was hidden.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Felicia and Old Bon, who were staring at him, waiting for answers.
— All right. I think you owe us some pretty detailed explanations, kid — Felicia took the initiative, pulling a chair over and sitting directly in front of Arata.
— Exactly — Bon agreed, crossing his sturdy arms.
— Okay... — Arata began, clearing his throat to steady his voice.
— I basically found out about the attack when I had a "casual" encounter with Yumi earlier. I happened to run into her in an alley in the capital. Fortunately, she didn't see me.
I hid in time and managed to overhear her plans.
That's how I discovered that she intends to murder both of you and that this negotiation was never real.
Her plan is to use this mansion as bait to lure the true owner of the mystical necklace here.
Do you understand how serious this is?
Deep down, Arata felt a slight pang of guilt for lying, but he knew it was for a greater good.
If he tried to explain Return by Death and the time loops, the two of them would probably just treat him like a complete lunatic and throw him out.
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Bon and Felicia remained motionless for several moments, processing the young man's words and judging the seriousness written across his face.
Finally, Old Bon broke the silence.
He stood up, fixing his mature eyes directly on Arata.
— All right, kid. We'll believe you.
Felicia let out a long, heavy sigh before standing as well, never taking her eyes off the strangely dressed boy.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
— I'll try to trust you too — she conceded, adjusting her posture.
— That woman is known in the underworld as the "Bowel Hunter," so it's not exactly surprising that she's capable of a betrayal on this level.
Old Bon slowly walked toward the back of the counter.
The heavy sound of his boots against the wooden floor finally shattered the atmosphere of uncertainty hanging over the mansion.
With one firm and precise movement, he pulled a long, imposing weapon from behind the wooden structure.
A bisento.
Its curved metal blade reflected the faint rays of the setting sun filtering through the cracks, creating an ominous gleam.
— If what you say is true, kid, we don't have a single second to waste — Bon declared, wielding the heavy weapon with impressive skill for a man his age.
— The Bowel Hunter isn't an ordinary opponent. If she comes through that door intending to kill, this place will become a battlefield.
Arata swallowed hard, his stomach twisting as he remembered the overwhelming power he had experienced firsthand.
He rose from his chair, clenching his fists tightly in an attempt to suppress the involuntary trembling in his hands.
— I know exactly how she fights — Arata revealed, drawing the attention of both allies.
— Her power involves the creation and manipulation of a highly corrosive poison.
That purple katana of hers is completely coated in the substance.
A single touch from that sword or the disgusting liquid is enough to melt the floor... or our own cells.
Don't move carelessly or predictably under any circumstances.
Felicia's eyes widened for a fraction of a second as she absorbed the complexity of the threat.
— Corrosive poison...? That's the worst possible thing for a fight in an enclosed space — the pink-haired girl analyzed, crossing her arms as her strategic mind began working rapidly.
— If she corners us in here, the limited space will become our own trap.
Old Bon, we need to use the layout of the tables to restrict her attack angles as much as possible.
— Exactly — Arata agreed, his mind recalling another crucial detail that Felicia herself had taught him during the previous loop.
— And there's one more crucial detail.
She's a vampire.
The temperature inside the mansion seemed to drop with that revelation.
Old Bon deeply furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes.
— A vampire...? I thought their bloodline had gone extinct ages ago — the elderly man muttered, tightening his grip on the bisento.
— She's a survivor — Arata explained, pointing toward the window, where the sun was beginning to touch the horizon.
— And her regenerative ability changes completely depending on the time of day.
The sun is setting.
If night falls completely, her regeneration becomes perfect and she'll be practically invincible.
But while there's still even a trace of daylight, she has to consume fresh blood at the exact moment she's injured in order to heal herself.
We have to defeat her or hold her off now, before it gets completely dark!
Felicia stared at Arata with an unmistakable mixture of surprise and suspicion.
— You know way too much for someone who supposedly only overheard a few whispers in an alley, weird kid...
But we don't have time to question your sources right now.
If her weakness is time, then we need to act immediately.
Without wasting another second, the three of them began moving the heavy pine tables around the room.
Bon used his brute strength to drag and position the furniture, creating strategic physical barriers that blocked Yumi's rapid attack angles and restricted the lateral movements she usually relied on.
Felicia agilely jumped onto the main counter, securing an elevated position from which she could monitor the perimeter and provide tactical support.
Arata, aware that he possessed neither exceptional physical strength nor magical abilities, searched the corner of the room and picked up a sturdy piece of wood, a leftover from the renovation of one of the old chairs.
His role here would be purely strategic support and, above all, to make sure enough time passed for the message delivered to Kauã Alves to take effect.
— She's going to knock on that door any minute now — Arata warned, cold sweat running down his forehead as he positioned himself directly behind Old Bon's human shield.
— Stay ready.
Silence returned to the mansion.
But this time, it was a silence charged with the brutal anticipation of battle.
The shadows of the approaching night began stretching across the floor.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The muffled, firm, perfectly rhythmic sound of knocking against the wooden door echoed through the hall.
The confrontation was about to begin.
But unlike every other time...
Destiny had found a board prepared for a counterattack.
"She's... here..." Arata thought, his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep the piece of wood steady in his trembling hands.
End of Chapter 13...
To be continued in Chapter 14...