"工藤,幫我把你所有的衣服都脫掉!"
"如果你不這樣做..."
"我來做"
工藤跪在地上求饒.
工藤把衣服完全脫掉了,包括他那可憐的小棍子,也暴露在人群中.
"把剩下的人都強姦給我!"
"你不喜歡聞別人的內褲嗎?今天讓你玩得開心!
"我不想"
"你想死嗎?"
和也拿起手槍對準工藤的額頭.
"請不要這樣做...我會的..."
"還剩下四個人...我們從山腳開始.
"在山下!過來!
他也以最輕蔑的態度像只小狗一樣叫著.
就像以前大家對他的態度一樣.
山下努力爬到和也的前面.
"幫我幫他洗衣服,工藤!"
工藤在山下脫掉了衣服.
"要有耐心"
"不!"
從山腳下傳來的撕心裂肺的尖叫聲,從體育館里傳來.
"這跟這麼大聲喊叫很像嗎?不是嗎!
他也睜大了眼睛看著山腳.
"我不想..."
"嗯...嗯......"
看著野狗的交配動作
片刻之間,不知名的熾熱白色果肉從山下的褲襠流出.
他也很高興看到這一點.
"我終於看到了!非常好的表現!
"接下來是..."
沒過多久,九藤就執行了和也發出的命令.
"從這一刻起,我命令你要相信我.請提交給我.如果你反抗,你就要付出代價——我隨時選擇.
和也的聲音低沉而冰冷,他的目光閃爍著令人不寒而慄的決心.
He stood before them all, looking down upon those who had once hurt him. His eyes were laced with conflicting emotions. There was cruelty, yes—but buried beneath it, a faint trace of suppressed pain.
"Follow me."
His tone was godlike. And like a god's decree, it could not be defied.
"W-where to?" someone asked, trembling.
"Isn't it obvious? School."
Kazuya's words were curt and indifferent, tinged with weariness, and something else—a sorrow too deep for words.
He turned and walked ahead. The others exchanged uncertain glances, but fear anchored their feet. The pressure radiating from Kazuya left them with no choice but to follow.
As he passed them, his fingers brushed lightly against their wounded legs—and the pain vanished. It was as if time itself had stopped, numbing the agony, bringing a fleeting peace.
He felt it too: a calm, a stillness, as if the world had paused just for him. His trembling fingers touched open wounds without pity, only clinical detachment. Each drop of blood mirrored their frailty.
Kazuya muttered to himself, half-lost in thought:
"It's just anesthesia… nothing more."
His voice was flat, as if explaining to himself—or to everyone nearby—that pain was only borrowed, only momentarily stripped away.
As the shock set in, their faces twisted in confusion. They could still see their blood, but they could no longer feel it. Was it numbness? Or had they begun to forget what pain felt like?
Kazuya's gaze swept over them, then vanished into an unfathomable void.
"Don't even think about running," he said.
Still detached. Still cold.
His words echoed like a curse—quiet, inevitable, closing in. Emotionless in tone, but heavy with threat.
They forced themselves to stand. Their movements were sluggish, each step a desperate crawl—not toward freedom, but perhaps toward reclaiming the dignity they had lost. Or maybe they just wanted the fear to end.
Kazuya turned to watch them follow, their forms like shadows drained of hope.
He slowed his pace, as if showing mercy.
Each step was steady, heavy, cloaked in invisible pressure.
Soon, they entered the school grounds. The path was familiar—and yet now alien. Sunlight spilled over them, but there was no warmth. Only a cold that defied reason.
Kazuya narrowed his eyes.
He didn't need to look ahead. He knew—wherever they went, whatever lay before them—they were already caught in the darkness.
There was no turning back.
—On the rooftop, the wind whispered like the voice of God.
Kazuya stood at the edge, the world behind him fading away, replaced by the vast sky stretching endlessly ahead.
He slowly raised his hand toward the heavens, his eyes reflecting swirling clouds—like a saint on the verge of transcendence.
"Leap," he whispered. "Join me… return to the sky."
His voice was soft, yet it pierced their souls. It was a call that transcended death—a prophecy from the end times, a divine murmur in the ears of the faithful.
"…Huh?"
Someone stumbled back, stunned.
But Kazuya smiled, without the slightest hesitation. His lips moved gently, counting down.
"One—two—…"
And then he stepped forward—an embodiment of faith, vanishing into the void.
—In that moment, the world lost all sound.
His body fractured mid-air, like a sacred glass statue shattering into light.
Countless glimmers spilled from him, scattering in the wind, like stars returning to the cosmos.
No blood. No agony.
Only stillness.
A return to origin.
An ascension.
"…Return… to the sky…"
Someone in the crowd murmured through trembling lips, their eyes fixed on the fading light.
Was it ascension—or annihilation?
No one knew.
But they knew this:
He had shed mortality.
He had become something higher.
Reverence.
Frenzy.
Ecstasy.
In that instant, those emotions exploded like a tidal wave.
"…Our god has returned to the heavens… and we shall follow."
No command.
No hesitation.
One by one, the believers ran to the rooftop's edge—like pilgrims throwing themselves into sacred fire.
They laughed, wept, screamed in joy—embracing their shattered salvation.
Kudou and the others followed. One after another.
Silhouettes falling like broken feathers.
But salvation never came.
On the ground below, only five lifeless bodies remained.
Their fate unknown.
Their faith unanswered.