Yud Bet — For You, I Could Overturn the World

Mumei moved swiftly across the rooftops, her agile figure leaping toward the shogunate's castle.

The once-magnificent structure was now halved, as though cleaved by a heavenly sword, its left side entirely collapsed.

Her delicate feet, encased in iron boots, made a sharp crackling sound as she stepped over the debris.

But no one had the time to care about what seemed like the playful antics of a child—everyone was frantically looking toward the remains of the castle.

It was the spiritual symbol of the shogunate.

Mumei had refused Kurumi's help. She clearly knew who was causing the chaos in the castle, and she wanted to handle it herself.

Seeing the determined look on Mumei's face, Kurumi had agreed.

She now sat silently atop the tallest clock tower, overlooking what was supposed to be the strongest and most prosperous city.

Kurumi's shadow followed closely behind Mumei.

Mumei's speed was extraordinary—even without removing her restraints, she was far faster than any ordinary samurai. Wielding the warrior's blade, she had slain hundreds of Kabane, and she was no longer the girl she once was.

Amidst the fleeing crowds from the castle, Mumei caught sight of a familiar white figure—a tall, recognizable presence: Ayame.

She was being protected by her uncle and Kurusu, escaping safely.

Mumei waved at her and, under Ayame's worried gaze, rushed into the ruined castle.

Her movements, previously as graceful as a swallow, shifted to long, deliberate strides as she headed straight for the main hall.

Swish—

The silk ribbon tied around her neck loosened, and Mumei carefully wrapped it around her wrist.

Her eyes, glowing with a blazing golden-red light, locked onto the lone figure in the hall. Without hesitation, she strode toward Biba Amatori.

Mumei's movements were calm but carried the force of a charge. As the two met in battle, their sheer presence stirred the dust that had settled from the destruction.

The experimental serum created by the scientist Soue Arata had been a remarkable success, granting Biba Amatori nearly the same power as Mumei.

His radiant golden eyes slowly opened, and as he gazed at Mumei, he suddenly lunged toward her.

His speed was astonishing, like that of a monster.

Instinctively, Mumei drew her blade and slashed at his right arm, but the sound that followed was the sharp ring of metal on metal.

Underneath his restraints, Biba's body was covered in strange golden-red scales.

His strength was immense, pushing Mumei back even as her blade managed to cut through the scales. But they healed almost instantly, growing even more formidable.

Mumei quickly retracted her blade and swung her leg in a powerful arc, her slender leg like a battle axe crashing down on Biba's right shoulder.

"Biba..." he called out to her tenderly.

But as the words left his mouth, they transformed into a piercing screech, like the grating sound of metal scraping against metal—a sound so sharp it shattered what remained of the glass dome overhead.

"Brother..."

Mumei looked up at Biba, her blood rushing to her heart, the temperature in her body soaring. Her fiery heart glowed brilliantly. Unlike the lantern-like golden-red of Biba's heart, Mumei's heart was like a roaring furnace.

Steam rose from her delicate skin, her muscles pulsing with heat. With a sudden twist, her leg came down again, and this time, blood splattered as she made contact.

"This time… I won't hesitate anymore."

The two clashed violently, but Mumei's strength was held back by the pain coursing through her body.

No one can unleash their full power—it's the body's natural self-protection.

But Biba was no longer fully human. Each of his strikes came with such force that his bones shattered, yet they immediately healed, reinforced by the golden-red light.

He had completely blocked out pain, his every blow surpassing the limits of his body. And with his slightly superior swordsmanship, he gradually gained the upper hand.

The two collided repeatedly, their body temperatures soaring to unimaginable heights. Their burning blood sent steam tinged with red into the air.

Their short blades, no longer than daggers, clashed continuously, blood-red afterglow dancing between them like beams of light.

The Kabane veins on their bodies glowed brighter and brighter, their luminescence spraying like photons, forming wings of light resembling butterflies.

Mumei recalled her mother's words when she was very young, shielding her eyes from death, saying that butterflies guided souls to the afterlife. Now, it seemed like her mother had been describing this very scene.

Their blades, driven by the force of a tempest, collided hundreds of times in mere moments. The remaining half of the castle trembled in the wind, and the short blade in Biba's hand had long since shattered. What remained was the radiance of his blade clashing against Mumei's.

He swung heavily at Mumei, his shattered blade scattering like petals, raining down on her.

But in the critical moment of victory, his heart suddenly skipped a beat, his body hesitating.

I will not be afraid anymore.

With her eyes ablaze, Mumei thrust her blade toward Biba.

The shattered fragments of his blade were swept away by a surge of wind and blood fire. Mumei's short sword pierced his chest, pushing him back until she slammed him into the wall.

Biba stared blankly at the gaping wound in his chest. Not a single drop of blood escaped.

He had sealed off all sensation in his body, removing its natural defenses.

But Nue transformation comes at a price. Every time Mumei had transformed in the past, it had nearly drained her of blood. If not for Kurumi, she would have died outside Iwato Station.

Biba, however, had squandered everything without understanding the cost.

"Arrghh!" Mumei cried out as she slashed through Biba's heart.

"Mumei… finally caught the coward, didn't you?" Biba's voice came out in a fragmented rasp, like a bellows leaking air. His armored hand reached up, brushing against Mumei's cheek.

"I'm sorry, Brother," Mumei whispered, pulling her blade from his chest and gently cradling him as she lowered him to the ground.

"You even have your own thoughts now, Mumei," Biba murmured in his final moments.

"It's not Mumei," she corrected, wiping her tears.

"It's Hozumi."

The castle collapsed completely.

The once-magnificent structure had become a tomb, a mausoleum for both father and son.

The father, slain by his own son.

The son, slain by his own "claw."

In the center of the crumbling ruins, Mumei knelt, quietly sobbing as she bid farewell to her past.

"Hozumi… there's no need to cry."

Kurumi, who had been sitting on the clock tower, lowered her gaze, and a giant, ancient clock face appeared in the black and red shadows behind her.

"I will ensure that Hozumi lives in a world without Kabane."

"Time… is both so gentle… and so cruel."

The barrel of Kurumi's steam rifle glowed with twisted black and red shadows, the entire gun trembling as if it were on the verge of collapse.

"Yud Bet—Twelfth Bullet."

Next year, during Tanabata, you will surely forget about me.

——

The steam rifle trembled, pressed against Kurumi's chin, its barrel enveloped in black and red shadows. Behind her, the massive two-meter-tall golden clock slowly turned.

Kurumi gazed in the direction of the shogunate's castle, seemingly seeing Mumei, kneeling and sobbing in the ruins.

"I just wanted to prove that human effort can change history," Kurumi whispered to herself, convincing herself that it wasn't because Mumei was adorable or anything like that, which made her show favoritism.

She was still somewhat uncertain about the quality of the trembling steam rifle, but in the end, Kurumi decided to pull the trigger.

Her instinct told her—it was time.

"Yud Bet—Twelfth Bullet."

As she pulled the trigger, black and red shadows surged from behind, swallowing Zafkiel, then spiraling forward, coiling around Kurumi.

The shadows writhed, inch by inch, consuming the girl's petite form, leaving only her golden, mechanical clock eye.

Compared to before, the time displayed in her eye reversed by three more hours. The twelfth bullet consumed a tremendous amount of energy—the cost increasing exponentially as more time was reversed.

To go back thirty years would require the strength of an entire Spirit.

Luckily, in Fuyuki City, Kurumi had "feasted" thoroughly—on the endless sea monster and the magical leyline that had accumulated power for sixty years, as well as Justeaze's two hundred years of reserve. This gave Kurumi the confidence to squander her power as she pleased.

It was only unfortunate that Kurumi herself couldn't regenerate mana directly. There was no such thing as an unlimited source of energy for her. What she consumed was what she had, and once it was gone, it was gone. Otherwise, why would she be so careful with every bottle of mana potion she carried?

Someday, when she finds someone she likes enough and who's strong enough, she'd make sure to drain them dry. Then she'd refill them with magic potions, drain them again, and keep them pinned down, "eating" them as much as she wanted.

As black and red ripples spread out, the girl's delicate figure vanished completely.

In the ruins of the shogunate's castle, Mumei abruptly looked up, her eyes scanning the entirety of Kongouku in confusion, her heart feeling hollow, as though the most precious thing she possessed had been stolen away.

——

In the modern age, the world was swept by the tides of the Industrial Revolution.

A certain rumor began to spread in every corner—humans who were supposed to be dead had been resurrected, transformed into bloodthirsty monsters that devoured others.

Non-human creatures, undead beings.

They had reappeared in this world.

About twenty years ago, the great Kabane plague had unleashed unprecedented terror in Europe. The Kabane reproduced explosively, rapidly collapsing the industrial heartlands.

The origin of it all seemed to trace back to a small nation, swallowed up overnight by the undead, bringing about the disaster that would eventually sweep the world.

Based on the information gathered from Kurumi's clones across various places and the records they found, it seemed… that the roots of the calamity came from a certain nation known for digging holes for itself.

——

Following the flow of the Tiber River, Kurumi soon found herself looking at the legendary City of Seven Hills.

She had arrived just before dawn, and the surroundings were eerily quiet and dim.

Rome was shrouded in a smoky haze, a dense fog covering the city despite the streetlights shining brightly, making visibility extremely poor. The thick clouds of smoke blanketed the ancient city, obscuring everything more than ten meters away.

Early McRucky engines were still quite imperfect, their steam compression efficiency far from adequate, which led to massive amounts of pollution.

——

This city was truly strange. Even in the dead of night, there wasn't a single guard visible at their posts.

Kurumi's shadow spread out from under her feet, slipping into every corner of the city.

She grabbed a notice from a nearby post, thankful that the original Kurumi Tokisaki had been well-versed in eight languages. Even before acquiring the Sephira Crystals, she had been a well-educated young lady.

Under the protection of the "Oblivion Correction," Kurumi read the notice with ease.

The city of Rome had recently experienced a spree of brutal murders, along with reports of stolen corpses.

The church urged the public to refrain from going out at night, claiming that bloodthirsty demons had awakened.

Kurumi's timing was perfect. This was the very place where the first wave of the Kabane outbreak had begun.

And it was happening right now.

——

"City of Devouring Time!"

Kurumi raised her right hand high and then clenched it tightly. A dark purple field instantly spread out, covering all of Rome.

Nothing was more suited for tracking a target than the City of Devouring Time.

Kurumi suppressed her power of time absorption to the bare minimum. She closed her eyes, sensing everything within the city's borders.

On her journey with the Koutetsujou to Kongouku, she had already tested it. In the domain of the City of Devouring Time, she couldn't drain time from the Kabane, but they were still able to move freely within it.

Kurumi listened carefully, then smirked, preparing to begin her hunt.

The early Kabane were no different from the ones that would later engulf the world. Their weak point remained the same—hearts covered by an iron membrane.

Amid the horrified expressions of the priests, Kurumi descended like a deity, thrusting her blade into the Kabane's heart. Then, with a swift motion, she hurled the stolen rapier, pinning another Kabane to the wall.

The creatures that seemed so terrifying to the priests were effortlessly slain by Kurumi. The girl in the black-and-red dress exuded a faint, sweet scent.

Glancing back at the stunned priests, Kurumi's gaze fell on a man who had been fighting at the forefront. He clutched his right arm, which was now marked with purple and fiery red veins—he had been bitten.

A steam rifle floated from Kurumi's shadow, Dalet—Fourth Bullet loaded and ready. She aimed it at the man.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt much," she said with a mischievous smile.

——

Tossing the now-useless steam rifle onto the ground, Kurumi left with satisfaction.

She had gathered enough information from the priests. The next task was simple—eliminate the Kabane completely.

Human effort… can indeed change history.

With that thought, Kurumi's steps grew lighter.

——

At the very end, Kurumi sat in the front row of an opulent hall, her legs crossed, while behind her, shadows emerged, taking the form of identical black-and-red-dressed girls.

The hall was deathly silent. Kurumi didn't look back, instead reclining comfortably, gazing at the giant ivory sculpture ahead.

Resting on her lap was a book that looked as though it had been carved from stone, and beside her, on the adjacent seat, sat a dazzling golden apple.

Beneath the round dome in front of her stood a grand statue of a towering man draped in robes, holding a flame in his hand, with a ravenous eagle perched on his shoulder.

The inscription below read, in elegant flourished script:

"To create is to defy the heavens, and to defy the heavens demands penance."

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