Whispers of Shikiban:The king walks among us-Chapter 78 --

Reika's eyes snapped open.

The kitchen was quiet.

Too quiet.

She reached for the knife on the counter—cold steel, familiar weight. Her mother flinched the moment she turned around.

A pulse.

A flicker of something violet.

The purple aura swirled around Reika like smoke from hell.

And then—she pressed the blade against her mother's throat.

Trembling hands. Silent tears. No mercy.

The blade dug into the wall beside her mom's face with a screech of metal on concrete. A fake-out.

But the second her mother let out a relieved gasp—

—Reika twisted and cut deep.

Blood sprayed from her neck like a ruptured pipe. Warm. Sticky. It hit Reika's cheek, her lips, her eyes.

She didn't blink. Didn't flinch.

Behind her, a yell—

Her father, chair raised.

She didn't look.

Just spun, pressed the blade to his throat—

—and pushed.

His eyes widened.

Red gushed like a waterfall.

A bloodbath.

He hit the floor with a gurgle. A thud. Silence.

Then the screaming started. Hers.

Not fear.

Laughter.

A twisted smile carved itself onto her face.

"What? You thought you could control me?"

Her voice cracked with rage and hysteria.

"Like it's okay to beat me bloody and just move on?"

She stabbed the knife into their chests.

Once.

Twice.

Twelve times.

"I cried. You laughed.

I bled. You ignored.

And now—"

She stabbed again.

"You die."

Silence again.

Broken.

Final.

She stood up. Bloody. Breathing hard.

Then—smiling.

Violently smiling.

"Who said parents are always on your side?"

She laughed. Laughed like it hurt.

Dragged their bodies outside. Barefoot. Blood trailing.

The street was empty...

Except for him.

A boy.

A monster.

A Shikiban.

It tilted its head, eyeing the corpses in her hands.

"Oii, girl. Can I get some meat off them? I'm starving."

She dropped the bodies with a thud.

"You gonna eat them?" she asked, eyes dull.

The Shikiban blinked. "Aren't you human?"

"I'm Kageshiki."

"...Huh?"

She didn't answer. Just stared.

Then the Shikiban grinned.

"Become one of us. A Shikiban. Like me. Kill with me. Eat with me."

Reika looked him dead in the eye.

"Why would I become trash?"

"I'm not on your side. I'm not on the Kageshiki's side. I'm on no one's."

She walked past him.

"I'm alone. And that's exactly how I like it."

Her voice dropped. Cold. Hollow.

"I'm coming, Kotoha."

Elsewhere...

In a silent garden bathed in moonlight, Souta Arakawa prayed.

His silver hair drifted like threads in the breeze.

In front of him:

A small grave.

His sister's.

Behind him:

Footsteps.

A voice, venomous.

"Oh? Praying now? That doesn't suit you, butcher."

Souta didn't turn.

"Two weak Zaī behind me. Breathing too loud."

The Zaī stiffened.

One was a woman in a crimson jacket, katana strapped across her back. The other—a broad, twisted man with glowing tattoos and eyes like pits.

"We came for revenge," the man growled.

"We're Zaī 8 and 9."

"You killed Enzo. Zaī 10."

Souta's smirk was slow. Cruel.

"Did I?" he whispered, eyes still on the grave. "Must've been a Tuesday."

Zaī 8, the woman, stepped forward, fists clenched. "He was our brother."

"Then you should've protected him," Souta said, finally standing.

The wind stopped.

His aura shifted. The entire garden went still.

"Sending you two after me..."

He turned, eyes glowing beneath his silver bangs.

"...your king's running out of options."

Zaī 9 lunged, blade swinging.

Souta didn't move—until he did.

Fast. Blinding. Beautiful.

Steel clanged.

Screams followed.