What exactly was Kiryu Dou Tang to Lu Zizhen?
To her, he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And that was precisely the problem.
Lu Zizhen was someone who could never stand being ordinary.
Two years ago, when she first came to Tokyo, she devoured everything—resources, contacts, entire networks—with near-maniacal hunger.
In just eighteen months she became the most connected intelligence broker in Tokyo—and, for a while, a sensationally famous exorcist.
Then, half a year ago, she vanished from the exorcist circuit. Her information web fell silent. People assumed the crazy woman was finally calming down.
After all, she'd already carved out her empire through sheer talent and ruthlessness.
Only Lu Zizhen knew the truth.
Her restraint wasn't from fatigue—it was because Dou Tang wasn't yet ready to face her true self.
To keep from driving him away, she buried that side of her, locking her darkest instincts deep below the surface.
She became Miss Lu—the lively, fashionable, big-sister figure everyone adored.
She watched him transform again and again, watched him hunt evil spirits with almost religious obsession.
She watched him drift deeper into that madness only he understood—and with each day, her fascination grew stronger.
Then, the night she saw him tear apart a monstrous wraith with feral rage, she realized it. She had fallen for him.
But Lu Zizhen's love was never the love of ordinary people.
She loved uncovering secrets. She loved dragging her partner into the shadows—into her
world.
She wanted to share with him the forbidden feasts, the eerie beauty that no sane person dared approach.
So she began probing his heart. Revealing small truths about herself. She told him she was a Taoist exorcist.
And while pursuing the origins of the spirits he fought, she stumbled upon the secret of the
Crown Game.
She realized instantly—it was a death match.
His enemies were no longer human, and he could never again live as one. He was up against merciless, inhuman forces. If he clung to trivial kindness— he would lose.
And then Kume Chinatsu appeared.
Chinatsu was like a rope thrown from the human world, pulling Dou Tang back toward the light—toward normal life.
That, Lu Zizhen could not allow.
Before Chinatsu's influence could sink too deep—
before Dou Tang could remember that even those born in darkness might still long for light— Lu Zizhen decided to remove her.
Kume Chinatsu's arrival forced her hand. The cheerful, playful "cool sister" persona was the mask she had chosen—the only beautiful face she would ever show him.
It was both a lie to him, and the truest expression of her soul. A face meant only for him.
Lu Zizhen lived inside that contradiction. She poured what remained of her warmth toward
Kiryu Dou Tang, even as she tried to drag him down with her.
Perhaps her hostility toward Kume Chinatsu was also… jealousy—though she had yet to realize it.
After hanging up, Lu Zizhen began to prepare.
Under her alias Miss Lu, she'd already contacted Kanekawa Ryūnosuke of the Onigashima
gang.
But she didn't trust him to keep her identity secret.
Kanekawa would tell his men where to find Dou Tang—but never reveal his source. A proper gang leader always kept a card or two hidden.
Which meant only Kanekawa himself knew the truth. And that meant all she needed was one move.
She changed into a new outfit, then pulled on a full-face mask.
No sword tonight—only four collapsible batons strapped to her limbs.
Down in the underground garage, two parking spaces bore her name. One held a Beetle.
The other—four motorcycles.
She chose the bright-red Triumph Rocket 3 GT.
Locking her mask into the half-open helmet, she sealed it into a full unit. The engine roared alive.
"VROOOOOOM!"
The triple-cylinder detonated through the exhaust, the thunder rolling across concrete walls like cannon fire.
She twisted the throttle and shot up the ramp—
a streak of crimson light plunging headlong into Tokyo's dusk.
She wasn't alone.
As night fell, a thousand engines howled together.
On the highway from downtown to Ikebukuro, over a hundred motorcycles roared in formation, slicing through traffic like feral beasts.
Even from blocks away, the thunder of their engines was deafening.
And at that very moment, utterly unaware of the storm approaching— the three of them were still shopping.
They'd been at it all day, yet the two girls showed no sign of fatigue.
Dou Tang found it strange. At home, Huaiyin was always yawning, forever sleepy. If they were home right now, he'd probably be napping beside her.
Still—seeing her this lively made him happy.
Huaiyin was finally showing a spark of the light she'd lost. She was coming back to life. "Big brother, how about this one?"
Huaiyin twirled out of the fitting room, her pale-blue dress fluttering like a flower caught in wind before settling softly around her knees.
She lifted her hem slightly, eyes shining with excitement. Dou Tang's smile softened.
"It looks great—but doesn't it look a bit like the one you tried this morning?"
"How is it the same!" Kume Chinatsu protested, tugging at Huaiyin's sleeves. "Look—these pleats give it texture, and the cuffs make it breathable! And see this collar? It makes the whole upper body look sharper!"
Huaiyin blushed, letting herself be adjusted while Dou Tang chuckled helplessly.
"Alright, alright. If you like it, buy it. After all you've bought today, one more won't hurt."
Huaiyin smiled shyly and ducked back into the fitting room.
Just then, Dou Tang's sharp hearing caught something— a low, rolling thunder of engines.
He turned toward the mall's entrance, frowning slightly. The sound was distant, so he dismissed it for now.
But outside, several men swaggered in—flashy coats, mismatched boots, the kind of clothes that screamed trouble.
Their leader glanced at his phone, scanned the shop, then locked eyes on Dou Tang.
Instantly, Dou Tang's instincts flared.
He turned calmly, walked back inside, grabbed Kume Chinatsu by the wrist, and knocked on the fitting-room door.
"Huaiyin. Open up. You and Kume-san stay in here."
Huaiyin, now back in her own clothes, opened the door—only for Dou Tang to push a startled Chinatsu inside.
"Don't make a sound. Don't speak. Wait for me to come back. Huaiyin—if things go bad, use those candy beans."
Before either girl could respond, he shut the door behind them. When he turned back—
several bōsōzoku punks in filthy white coats, scrawled with vulgar slogans and topped with
gaudy "host" hairstyles, stood blocking the entrance. Their leader swaggered in, spinning a steel pipe.
"Hey! You're Kiryu Dou Tang, right? Come with us for a ride!"
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