“A brilliant plan—that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Gamora was even more confused: “And then? You’re going to contend for the Clockmaker’s legacy? And then get sliced into human salad by that woman named Acheron?”

“Don’t rush, we can devise a strategy—”

“Strategy? Give me a break.” Rocket Raccoon poked his head out of the cockpit. “If you ask me, we should first search for the location of Duke Inferno’s Manor. That place was just wiped out by Acheron, who knows, there might be a lot of treasures hidden in the ruins?”

“If nothing else, picking up a couple of fragments of Duke Inferno wouldn’t be bad. Tofet’s Fire Demons—I’ve never even heard of this species. Some collectors with peculiar tastes in the universe might be willing to pay a good price for them, don’t you think, Groot?”

Groot: “I am Groot!”

“He says he completely agrees.” Rocket Raccoon shrugged. “Besides, we need money… How are we going to Penacony without money? The Star Rail spent all of Firefly’s savings in ten seconds. God knows how much Penacony will cost? Anyway, the top priority is to go to Duke Inferno’s Manor first and see if there’s anything valuable left behind.”

This sounded like a reliable plan, and Gamora nodded.

However… Drax the Destroyer had been staring at the spaceship’s navigation search device for half an hour, and the screen kept spinning.

“Hmm, but the problem now is, we seem to be unable to locate Duke Inferno’s Manor.”

Drax scratched his bald head: “…Does this place really exist?”

——

Jujutsu Kaisen.

“This person is really stubborn…”

Kenjaku cracked his knuckles. “If you can’t win, run, and come back when you can. Why be so persistent?”

Kenjaku, who had changed bodies countless times, propped his chin with one hand and looked down at the oolong tea he held. The faint fragrance of the tea wafted up, adding a touch of warmth to his cold, narrow eyes.

With a “thud,” something dropped into the tea.

Kenjaku suddenly smelled a hint of sweet blood. He lowered his head and saw that the hand holding the tea had somehow shattered into more than a dozen pieces, with a section of his thumb quietly soaking in the tea.

“My hand slipped.”

Ryomen Sukuna, expressionless, said from the side: “I was aiming for your neck just now.”

Kenjaku belatedly touched his neck and indeed felt a circle of bloodstains there—Sukuna had really tried to kill him just now.

“Hmm…” He instantly gasped, a hint of displeasure appearing on his face: “Hey, hey, isn’t that a bit too harsh on a companion? Did I make you angry?”

“Yes, what you just said annoyed me greatly.”

“What I just said?”

Kenjaku frowned, recalled for a moment, and quickly guessed that his comment about Duke Inferno had inadvertently angered Sukuna.

The Sukuna he remembered was indifferent to everything, and in life, he was only slightly better to Uraume. Could it be that he cared about Duke Inferno quite a bit? Even to the point of attacking him?

Could it be that he hadn’t killed anyone in too long, causing a build-up of frustration?

“Alright.” Kenjaku shrugged. “Did that just now make you feel better?”

His wrist was completely shattered. Although it could be restored with Reverse Cursed Technique, the blood had stained his cassock (kasaya), and it would be quite troublesome to clean.

Ryomen Sukuna’s face completely dropped, his scarlet eyes like blood-soaked glass beads, pressing down with a heavy cursed energy.

“…That depends on whether you can control your unrestrained mouth from now on.”

——

“You cannot hide your identity. Draw that blade. We will indeed remain here. We are destined for a decisive battle, because I ‘choose’ to do so.”

Duke Inferno solemnly said: “The Destruction is a magnificent instant. If one despicable (basely) seeks survival… this life would be too long.”

“Even if the answer… might be your own destruction?” Acheron countered.

“The answer is not important; what is important is its existence, just like your existence. Everything exists to be destroyed—even an Emanator is no exception. Even in the void, beautiful dreams can be born. What is called impossible is merely what has not yet arrived.”

“…”

Acheron took a deep breath: “…Alright, I promise you.”

“You will witness the most brilliant and violent fire in this world. May this burning illuminate your bottomless dream.”

“A bottomless dream… indeed, but you misunderstood one thing.” Acheron said faintly, “This blade remains in its sheath, not out of pity or disdain. It is a secret I do not wish to show, but as a retort…”

Acheron’s hand gently rested on the tsuba.

“…I will be honest with you. The Hunt… is not the Path I walk.”

The blade slowly emerged from its sheath—

All burning sounds in Duke Inferno’s Manor disappeared, leaving only the rustling of ashes falling.

“May death end your long dream… leading you back to the waking world.”

——

Demon Slayer.

“Duke Inferno died just like that…”

Inside the Infinity Castle, the lamplight elongated Kibutsuji Muzan’s shadow into a distortion. He looked up at Acheron sheathing her blade, murmuring the words she had just spoken.

“The Hunt… She is not of the The Hunt Path… which means she has no connection with the Galaxy Ranger or the Xianzhou Alliance…”

“Then the source of her power would be—”

Muzan was deep in thought when he suddenly remembered something and looked down at Kokushibo, who had not yet left.

“Kokushibo, what do you think?”

Kokushibo’s six eyes rotated slightly. He knelt on one knee, adopting a respectful posture: “…Perhaps, it is related to Finality. However, there is too little information about this Path currently, and it has only had a simple manifestation in the Swarm Disaster…”

“Hmm, as long as it’s not The Hunt, it’s fine.”

Muzan’s face showed a more relaxed expression. Among all Paths, what he feared most were the people of The Hunt.

Whether it was the Rangers in the universe or the Xianzhou forces who were very likely to label him as an Abominations of Abundance, both were considerable threats to him. Initially, he had gasped when Acheron was an Emanator of The Hunt, but now that he heard her say this… he felt much relieved.

——

“Back in the depths of the Memory Zone.”

Acheron looked at Sam and calmly said: “…I still dream.”

“Huh?” Sam was stunned for a moment, but seeing that she no longer wished to fight, he likewise disengaged his firepower.

“Stop, your time has not come.”

Sam’s voice held a hint of confusion: “…‘My time’?”

Acheron nodded: “I have seen many seemingly clever disguises that can hide the exterior but cannot conceal the inner self. You are no exception.”