Control was lost first—blood came later.
"Voice! Voice! Wèi has to go to the butterfly!"Kirihito screamed internally, his soul thrashing against the invisible chains binding him.
He was anxious, frantic, yet his physical body remained disturbingly still, locked under the absolute control of the Dark Voice. He knew Xio might be upset with him this time—Xio's tone earlier had spoken louder than words.
Inside the mental prison, Kirihito was making the sounds of lifting a mountain, straining to move a limb that wasn't his to command. He ordered the intruder non-stop.
"Eeeeeeeee!!!!! Get back inside!! Wèi needs to do something to that white insect!"
He tried harder, pushing with every ounce of spiritual energy, but only managed to make one finger twitch twice.
The Dark Voice sighed, a sound of profound annoyance. Externally, the body uncrossed its legs and elegantly crossed them the other way.
He looked down at his own hand, which was trembling violently—the result of Kirihito's resistance. He watched the tremors with cold detachment, as if watching a tortured animal trying to run.
Suddenly, the hand shot up and grabbed his own throat. It was a desperate grip—just holding, unable to squeeze.
The Dark Voice peeled the hand away with mental force and mumbled, "Pathetic..."
"Wèi is never pathetic! You are pathetic!" Kirihito yelled back.
"Shut up... or I will make your 'butterfly' even angrier. I will leave your body right now, and you will be left rotting without food in the lands of Fukaki," the Dark Voice threatened internally, his tone dripping with malice.
"Don't you dare, Voice!"
"I have already dared more lifetimes than you have learned to count," the Dark Voice replied, his internal voice echoing with casual, ancient pride.
beside him, his friends tilted their heads in confusion—a gesture that bordered on mockery.
The one wearing the Blue Ribbon spoke first, his voice smooth and teasing. "Why do I hear a mosquito singing inside your body?"
They never spoke their names, acting as if their identities were top secret, yet they knew exactly whom they were dealing with.
"That mosquito is the soul I am using," the Dark Voice said dryly, his mood seemingly ruined forever because he hadn't been able to 'dance' properly earlier. That dance had seemed vital to him, a performance lost.
"Wèi isn't any mosquito either!" Kirihito yelled again, a protest that nobody actually valued.
The Black Ribbon chuckled faintly, reaching out to tangle his finger in Kirihito's hair. "Come on, bro... you have danced from the day you were born."
The Blue Ribbon purred like an affectionate snake. "That one chance to dance will come again... just let us see your smirk darling~ " He deliberately touched his lips, mimicking a smile to coax one out of his friend.
Snap.
The Dark Voice bit him lightly. It wasn't a kiss; it was a warning, his phantom fangs sinking lightly into the other's skin.
"Ah... you are being too cruel to my yokai body... my host soul will cry after he takes control..." The Blue Ribbon made a pained expression, melodramatic as he sucked on his lightly bloody finger.
"I will not smirk unless I get another pure soul to hide in for a while, especially when that Wùji uses critical methods to find my presence," the Dark Voice muttered.
The Black Ribbon smirked lazily and leaned closer, confidently invading his personal space, practically nuzzling into his neck like he had already won a game.
"Why so happy? And stop cuddling... we are among insects... and my violet insect is watching me," the Dark Voice mumbled, placing a hand on the Black Ribbon to push him away—though there was no real force behind the push.
The Black Ribbon chuckled, a low vibration. "What will you give me if I give you that news?~" he purred, cuddling into the ponytail like nesting in it.
The Dark Voice looked at him with genuine curiosity. "Let's hear the news first. Just because I was born by unfair means doesn't mean I will sell my rewards unfairly."
The Black Ribbon leaned in, his lips brushing the skin of the ear, and whispered a secret so quietly that the air barely moved.
The Dark Voice's expression transformed instantly. His eyes widened into the ribbon— the stretch was clear and his head snapped toward the Black Ribbon.
The Black Ribbon grinned, leaning back. "Toldja~" he said pridefully.
Whack!
A sudden slap echoed. The friends froze, staring.
"Oy, why are you two soul friends fighting?" the Blue Ribbon asked, startled.
"I thought you would be happy by the news!" the Black Ribbon exclaimed, confused, his expectation of praise ruined.
The Dark Voice grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close, and hissed, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?! Things would have been easier if you did!"
"God damn it! Did I know you were suffering this much with that dual life?!" the Black Ribbon cried out dramatically.
"That is definitely worth the same as a one-night stand from me~" the Dark Voice suddenly said, a mischievous, wicked grin splitting his face. His mood flew up from bad to good, and then to the absolute best.
The others gasped.
"He won a night with him?! You all see?! What did he even offer him!?" the Gray Ribbon gasped out, scandalized.
"Top. Secret~" both the Dark Voice and the Black Ribbon whispered in unison, chuckling together like rats giggling in the sewers.
They continued their nothings which meant everything to them.
Meanwhile, in the corner, Wùji stayed silent, observing like a predator—too sharp to react quickly. He couldn't prove yet that they were something he should catch, but he would definitely keep an eye on them.
Meanwhile, Far from that fractured body— chaos erupted across the rooftops.
Xio was running, his hair and robes blowing wildly behind him as Suji gave chase. Suji was not alone; five more of his men surrounded the target. But Xio was in full confidence, his battle mode engaged.
He moved fluidly, fighting alongside five clones. Xio stayed hidden among the real and the fake, his golden owl mask shining brilliantly under the harsh sunlight. The air was filled with the sharp, ringing sound of swords clashing.
Suji dodged and attacked back attentively, his body moving with the rhythm of the fight. He swallowed hard, tightening his jaw in silent anger. Whoever was behind that mask was an excellent demonic cultivator and a face shifter.
Who could it be? Suji wondered. He desperately wanted to see the face beneath the gold, yet he couldn't even reach a single strand of hair. It felt like an insult. He was struggling, even after being titled a Dàozǔ.
Suji threw a handful of talismans. "Bind!"
Xio dodged them effortlessly—but the burning paper grazed him, cutting a slice of his sleeve and exposing a bandaged arm.
The other clansmen couldn't support Suji; they were already blocked by Xio's clones. A thick, Black-Gold smoke floated around the clones, a form of arrogant pride manifested as magic.
Suji's mind raced: If the ones with smoke are clones, then the figure without the Black Gold aura must be the real one... if I am not wrong.
His body moved with his sword, but his eyes scanned the battlefield. He spotted it in seconds—one figure fighting another man, devoid of the smoke.
"Boys! Switch places!" Suji ordered sharply.
The men nodded and quickly rotated positions. Now, Suji faced the target directly.
"Got you now..." he whispered confidently, thinking he had finally identified the real body.
I am also a Dàozǔ... even if my uncle calls me a sniffer dog... I knew you would use that trick. I am prepared . xio thought . inside the mask, Xio smirked. It wasn't him. He could make the fake look real and the real look fake. Suji was fighting a decoy.
As Suji reached out, trying to rip the owl mask off to reveal the face and capture him, Xio decided to twist the game further.
He dropped something hard onto the rooftop tiles.
Crack.
Instantly, the other clones mimicked him.
"What the hell??" Suji growled.
The entire rooftop was instantly swallowed by a thick, blinding fog of black and gold. It burned their eyes and filled their lungs with a sulfurous choke.
"Suji Kùmsūn! Where are you? The smoke is too thick to see anything!" one of the clan members coughed, panic rising. They stood frozen, covering their mouths, blinded.
"I am here... just focus on the sounds now since we can't see properly!" Suji ordered, his voice cutting through the haze.
"As you say, Dàozǔ!"
Slowly, the fog began to dissipate. They heard the frantic footsteps of Xio running away. When the air finally cleared, they gave chase again...
Until they stopped dead.
Xio—the man in the owl mask—was now alone. No clones. No smoke.
He stood near the edge of the roof, and he had captured a common man. He held his sword pressed dangerously close to the hostage's neck, his posture screaming a silent threat: One wrong move and this civilian bleeds.
"S-save me, Suji Kùmsūn!" the young man cried, panic visible in his wide eyes, his pulse visibly pounding against the blade.
Suji froze.
He hadn't expected a hostage situation in this fight. It wasn't that he hadn't seen it before, but he wished to avoid it in such sensitive matters. He swallowed hard and held up a hand to his men—a silent order to halt.
Xio tilted his head lightly. The mask and his predatory stance were far different from how he usually acted around Lànhuā, or even Kirihito. This was cold.
"Let him go," Suji said, his voice commanding but laced with underlying fear. "The fight is between us... for bringing chaos at Yinglòu... for stealing my face... not about a common human life."
If this guy died because of his mistake, Suji would be punished severely. But more than that, his reputation and position of a powerful and risoectful Lan would be dragged underwater.
But...
Xio didn't negotiate. he didn't..
Unexpectedly, with a sickening, wet slice, Xio ran the cold blade across the man's throat.
The sharp slashing sound silenced the wind, and blood sprayed into the air.