Shiraishi Nagimitsu was still awake?
Looking at recent events, the pressure on her had truly been immense.
Fang Zuo didn't reply to the message.
Despite the damage to his nascent soul…
His emotions and desires seemed stronger now than during his tribulation crossing in the mundane world.
But…
Habitually replying to messages was simply not something he did.
Fang Zuo still had many questions for Kawakita Saika, but the girl was injured after all.
Her beautiful eyes were constantly fluttering, eyelids heavy. If not for his squeezes at the root of her tail,
She likely would have been asleep long ago.
He simply instructed Kawakita Saika not to leave the house and to wait for him tomorrow.
Fang Zuo left behind a warning formation and departed.
This way, if someone else came after her, he'd know immediately.
Sitting in the taxi, Fang Zuo focused inward, adjusting his breath and circulating his qi.
He had dispatched that old Tengu dog demon easily enough,
But the expenditure of spiritual power had been significant.
Especially in this era so sparse in ambient spiritual energy.
Resolving that matter hadn't brought him answers.
Instead, it had birthed several new questions.
Fang Zuo meticulously sorted through them:
First:
Why had the White Fox clan, especially a Nine-Tailed White Fox, flee from Qingqiu in the Divine Land to this place?
Second:
That year.
On the Golden Peak of Wudang Mountain.
All the Daoist cultivators of the Divine Land witnessed it with their own eyes.
High in the sky.
That man, with the scabbard on his back and the sword blade in hand, sent a Heaven-shattering sword light ripping through the firmament.
Then ascended.
So why had that very scabbard appeared again in the mortal realm, and specifically in the hands of the Nine-Tailed Fox?
Third:
Why did that old man from the Oda family possess an authentic Daoist Zhu-You technique handbook?
And why did that old Tengu demon know the Daoist Soul-Shedding, Body-Seizing technique?
He must remember.
The Daoist mantra Sakura Kyou Kirumo chanted was barely a few characters, yet profoundly incorrect.
If even such a foundational technique could be botched so badly, it proved Japan held no true Daoist lineage.
Yet those two profound and esoteric Daoist secret arts were inherited with such orthodox precision, showing no deviation whatsoever.
Just… why?
Fang Zuo, a Nascent Soul cultivator, felt a faint chill creep over him on this midsummer night.
It was as if a vast net was unfurling.
And he had inadvertently stumbled right into it.
He arrived back at Shiraishi Nagimitsu's villa close to 4 AM.
The sky remained pitch black.
Fang Zuo opened the door and stepped into the living room.
The room held a dim glow.
The television was on, sound muted, providing faint illumination.
The screen replayed yesterday's political commentary.
On TV, Shiraishi Nagimitsu, with flawless makeup, wore a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt, delivering an impassioned speech.
Her momentum was unstoppable.
As the strongwoman's fervor surged,
The citizens below wildly chanted her name.
On the sofa.
Both lovely figures lay nestled together.
Oda Yui, wearing pink pajamas, was asleep, breathing softly in a light snore.
Shiraishi Nagimitsu sat near her head.
Dressed in a white lace gown, she hugged her knees. The immense pressure forced most of her ample bosom to spill over towards her knees.
One hand gently patted Oda Yui; her own eyes, however, fought a losing battle against sleep, refusing to succumb.
Hearing Fang Zuo's footsteps, she startled awake.
Seeing the man she'd been waiting for, her face instantly blossomed into a radiant smile.
No matter how late, as long as she waited and he came, it was worth it.
She flew into his arms.
Closed her eyes.
Took a deep, hungry breath of the scent clinging to him.
Like an addict, it filled her with profound safety, body and soul.
Then, sighing contentedly, she buried her face against his chest, rubbing her cheek against him incessantly.
As if trying to imprint his essence onto her skin.
Muttering softly.
"Master… your servant waited all this time."
Fang Zuo felt the deep tremors transmitted by the immense softness pressing against him.
He stroked Shiraishi Nagimitsu's hair.
"Why didn't you sleep?"
"I was afraid." Shiraishi Nagimitsu shook her head slightly. "Close my eyes… and I see them. Fall asleep… and I jolt awake."
Her small hand found Fang Zuo's larger one.
Pulling it close, she tucked it against the warm swell of her chest.
She lifted her face then, eyes liquid with desire, conveying a desperate hunger.
Fang Zuo understood her silent plea.
His response was a brutal grasp.
Shiraishi Nagimitsu lay prone beside the sleeping Oda Yui, hair disheveled, skin slick with sweat.
Countless bruises – deep purples and angry reds – marked her once pristine flesh.
Gazing at Oda Yui's peaceful face,
An expression of utter contentment filled her own even as she clenched her teeth against the relentless onslaught.
Lost in the storm, words escaped her trembling lips.
"Look…"
"The man behind me… can protect us forever."
"The three of us… never to be parted."
By the time they retreated to the bedroom, the first hints of dawn were lightening the sky.
Fang Zuo prepared to cast the usual blood-and-qi restoration spell to heal her bruised and swollen skin.
Shiraishi Nagimitsu stopped him.
"Later."
She shook her head, draping her arms back around his neck.
"This… throbbing pain… it makes me feel safe. Satisfied."
Fang Zuo traced the curve of her flushed cheek with his thumb.
This woman, fluid like water, was a complex fusion.
Forceful, yet craving dominance.
Resilient, yet vulnerable.
Except here. Here, she only craved the storm. Gentle held no allure.
The harder he grasped, the faster she came undone.
"Not sleep a little?" Fang Zuo asked.
"Dame." Shiraishi Nagimitsu murmured, pressing her cheek back against the solid warmth of his chest. "Want to talk to Master."
"Then tell me what you did yesterday." Fang Zuo gave her round earlobe a playful tug.
He wasn't concerned about her physical state. Each time the dragon and tiger met, the mutual benefit flowed both ways.
Though Shiraishi Nagimitsu didn't cultivate the Dao, the energies exchanged bestowed significant enhancements.
Still, being mortal, she ultimately needed sleep to nourish her three hun and seven po souls.
"You… truly wish to hear?" Her face lit up with surprise, even joy. She started to sit up quickly.
"Ah!"
She winced, sinking back into his embrace with a pained grimace.
She bit his chest gently in playful reproach.
"Swollen… larger than last time."
"I'll be gentler next time."
"Dame dame! No, no! I love it like this!"
Nestled in his arms, Shiraishi Nagimitsu slowly recounted the events of her day.
Interviewing potential new drivers… presiding over a staff meeting… repeatedly turning away bouquets from persistent suitors…
Her speech resonated powerfully; this constituency was a vital stronghold.
The first wave of rent payments for the Shinjuku building had arrived; the price secured pleased her.
She'd contacted several design firms; blueprints for the top two floors of the Shinjuku building would be ready in days.
Apart from a few choice ground-floor shops Fang Zuo had requested they keep,
The rest of the Shinjuku premises were now leased.
She'd visited a community center, assisting residents with practical issues.
She'd prepared the topics for tomorrow afternoon's meeting…
Sharing these mundane details, Shiraishi Nagimitsu herself felt little surprise at recounting them. Fang Zuo, however, listened with growing astonishment.
Their nightly routines often stretched towards dawn, leaving Shiraishi Nagimitsu exhausted by sleep.
Awakening… breakfast… followed by breakfast…
Leaving the house usually only by noon.
And yet, in the span of a single afternoon, Shiraishi Nagimitsu had accomplished all these tasks?
Such efficiency genuinely impressed Fang Zuo.
No wonder she'd risen to such heights.
It explained the formidable presence she projected, perfectly matching Abe Na-akari blow for blow.
Shiraishi Nagimitsu grew more animated as she talked.
Sharing and being listened to, especially by a lover, was its own profound happiness.
"Truly don't need some sleep?" Fang Zuo gently brushed stray strands of hair from her forehead.
"No need. Only one important meeting today," Shiraishi Nagimitsu murmured, shaking her head against him. Tilting her face, she rewarded his consideration with a lingering, wet kiss.
Fang Zuo didn't insist. He could always cast a sleep charm later, ensuring she rested deeply tonight.
But what Fang Zuo didn't realize…
It wasn't just them who lacked sleep.
At this very moment, across Tokyo, throughout Japan, countless eyes remained wide open.
The illustrious Fifth Heavenly Man, Hōkibō…
Was dead.
His presence had vanished from Tokyo.
Utterly and completely eradicated.
Every major power burned with activity through the night.
Who was responsible?
Among the Heavenly Eight Devas, Hōkibō had ranked fifth.
His death ignited the fury of the Heavenly Eight Devas first.
The Mountain Otakura, the closest stronghold to Tokyo, received the summons.
A message from the First Heavenly Man of Mount Atago, the Great Tengu himself, Atago Taro-bō.
Before dawn could break…
The Monstrous Overlord of Mount Otakura stepped into Tokyo.