Hidan's head snapped back.
Teeth shattered.
Blood sprayed.
His feet left the ground.
Shinji Akagi stepped in without hesitation.
An elbow crashed into Hidan's chest.
Bone cracked.
Before Hidan could collapse, Shinji seized his arm and twisted upward, pivoting his body with ruthless precision.
He stomped once and launched into the air.
Mid-motion, his hands pressed down against Hidan's torso while his knee aligned with the spine.
If he drove it down on impact—
Hidan's body would fold in half.
A clean break.
Neck and heels nearly touching.
They hit the ground.
Stone fractured outward in a spiderweb pattern.
But the snap never came.
At the final instant, Shinji pulled his force.
Hidan crashed hard—but intact.
Shinji released him and stepped back. The crimson mark on his forehead faded.
"Still alive," Shinji exhaled.
Hidan lay there, chest heaving, eyes burning.
Another loss.
And worse—
Mercy.
"I can't die," Hidan laughed hoarsely. "Even if I'm reduced to a head, I'll crawl back and rip your throat out."
"If you can," Shinji replied calmly. "Right now, you're too weak."
He turned away.
"Next time, I won't even bother finishing you."
Hidan roared behind him.
"Come back here!"
Shinji did not.
Cult members rushed in and dragged Hidan away for treatment.
The next day, Hidan expected punishment.
He had started the fight.
He had disobeyed.
He had lost.
But Lord Takigawa did not summon him.
No reprimand.
No confinement.
Strange.
At lunch, whispers reached him.
"Did you see it?"
"Lord Takigawa's execution method is… beautiful."
"Eighteen spears. Not a sound from him."
"Of course he endured. He's immortal."
Hidan's fist clenched.
"Who?" he demanded.
The cultist hesitated under his glare.
"Shinji. Public punishment. For yesterday."
Hidan froze.
That made no sense.
If anyone deserved punishment, it was him.
He grabbed the man by the collar.
"Where?"
"The main hall—!"
Hidan dropped him and strode away.
The grand hall stood silent.
At its center loomed a faceless statue of Jashin.
Before it—
A body hung suspended.
Eighteen black spears pierced through limbs and torso.
Positioned deliberately.
Avoiding fatal points.
Blood flowed steadily downward into carved channels on the floor, tracing the cult's ritual insignia.
This was Divine Punishment.
The condemned would bleed until the ritual grooves were filled.
Redemption through suffering.
Few survived it.
Shinji lifted his head weakly.
Blood covered his face.
When he saw Hidan, he grinned.
"Enjoying the view?"
Hidan snorted.
"Thought you'd look worse."
"You disappointed?"
"Why are you here?"
Shinji's eyes sharpened slightly.
"Think I covered for you?"
Hidan didn't answer.
"If I wanted you dead, I'd wait until you couldn't fight back," Shinji said. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Then why?"
"Maybe Lord Takigawa wanted a reminder."
A drop of blood fell.
Another.
Hidan studied him.
Not a scream.
Not a plea.
Just quiet endurance.
"Pathetic ritual," Hidan muttered.
Then he turned and walked away.
But his steps slowed.
Something didn't sit right.
If Shinji had been punished for that fight—
Why had he not been?
And why had Shinji said nothing?
Hidan stopped.
He changed direction.
Toward Lord Takigawa's chambers.
He needed answers.