At this moment, Tsuchimuro Tsumiko's pupils trembled.
"...Mera."
But before she could say anything, Sumijima Mera was already moving—charging forward without a word.
Flames coiled around her hands and feet, her battered body covered in wounds, her spiritual pressure already drained by a third.
Her eyes were hollow.
Like a dead woman walking.
Fujimiya Makoto raised his blade toward her. "With attacks like these, you'll never touch me."
The moment the words left his lips, they became law in this world.
[Falsehood made real]
[Defining Falsehood]
Sumijima's voice was hoarse, her fiery strikes cutting through the air with desperate ferocity.
Yet Fujimiya merely sidestepped, his movements so minimal they were nearly imperceptible.
With nothing more than these micro-adjustments, he dodged every attack.
The gap in their spiritual pressure was so vast that Fujimiya barely expended any energy to enforce this [Defining Falsehood], overwhelming her completely.
Their "battle" was a farce—a puppet show with only one puppeteer.
Finally, Fujimiya's blade swept horizontally, leaving a long gash across Sumijima's body as she overextended.
Sumijima's knees buckled.
She collapsed with a thud, blood pooling beneath her.
"What's wrong?" Fujimiya asked, feigning confusion. "Do you want me to kill you so badly that you'd rather die than face the truth?"
"You... liar!" Sumijima snarled, barely propping herself up on trembling arms.
"Still in denial?" Fujimiya sighed, as if disappointed.
He dragged his blade toward her.
Just as the wooden plaque had taught him:
[Binding Truth, Defining Falsehood] was the power to invert reality and lies.
But at its core—it required an overwhelming disparity in spiritual pressure to take full effect.
Within [Pleasure World], the spiritual cost was drastically reduced. But the moment this space dissolved, most "truths" he enforced would vanish.
To carry these "truths" into reality, two conditions had to be met:
First, an insurmountable gap in spiritual pressure.
Second, the target's mental collapse—forcing them to accept the "truth" as fact.
This was nearly impossible to apply to physical changes. Turning stone to gold or a brute into a delicate maiden? The moment they left this world, the effect would undo itself.
In Fujimiya's current state, the ability was best suited for mental manipulation.
A simple suggestion.
A single act of betrayal.
To test this, Fujimiya needed a perfect subject—simple-minded, straightforward, ruled by emotion.
Sumijima Mera was ideal.
But just as Fujimiya stepped closer, tightening the psychological vise—
"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!"
Tsuchimuro Tsumiko—equally battered—lunged forward, her black hammer swelling to its maximum density. The sheer weight and hardness reached their absolute peak.
The hammer struck the ground like a thunderbolt, fissures spiderwebbing outward as the shockwave detonated with deafening force.
Fujimiya retreated several paces, steadying himself.
Before him stood Tsuchimuro, a mother wolf shielding her cub, her mask stained dark red.
Her body could no longer sustain this level of exertion.
She didn't dare look back at Sumijima.
"I... I really didn't..." Her voice shook.
Sumijima raised her head weakly, her dying eyes reflecting Tsuchimuro's back.
Her lips parted, as if to speak—
But the memory of what had happened made her hesitate. Her head drooped, leaving only silence.
"..."
"Damn it!" Tsuchimuro cursed, gripping her twin hammers as she charged Fujimiya.
But—
"Too slow."
Fujimiya's voice rang out. With his spiritual pressure at [5], his speed, strength, and reflexes dwarfed hers. His Shunpo blurred past her vision entirely.
By the time she heard him, he was already in front of her.
Tsuchimuro's eyes widened at the gleaming blade.
Her hammers instinctively moved to block—
But as Fujimiya had said.
Too slow.
"SHINK—!"
A clean slash split Tsuchimuro from shoulder to hip, blood and spiritual pressure gushing as her vitality drained.
Even as the most analytical of the three, Tsuchimuro knew:
The moment Hashihara was captured—
They had already lost.
Everything after was just delaying the inevitable.
Yet as the blade bit into her, a realization struck. Her horrified eyes locked onto Fujimiya's still-moving sword.
"N-no... don't—"
Before she could finish, the blade pierced her heart.
Vital hit.
[Promise—once I pierce your weak point, you'll obey my every word.]
Pink light flared in both Fujimiya's and Tsuchimuro's eyes.
With her last strength, Tsuchimuro gasped:
"D-don't... believe..."
Then—
The blade withdrew, blood arcing through the air.
Sumijima stared blankly at the scene.
Hashihara... Tsuchimuro... both cut down so easily?
Then...
I'm next?
The thought brought an odd sense of relief.
She knew.
Of course she knew!
Her brain wasn't built for this kind of thinking!
Who betrayed who? Who held grudges?
She could never untangle it!
Losing was fine.
Zanpakutō couldn't die.
Once she blacked out, Ōetsu would come.
With his power, someone like Fujimiya would be trivial. They'd forget today ever happened, go back to their noisy, chaotic lives like always.
After this, things between her, Tsuchimuro, and Hashihara would go back to normal, right?
The thought gave her the strength to face reality.
On her knees, swaying, she screamed at Fujimiya:
"Bastard! Idiot! Baldy!"
"COME ON!"
"KILL ME!"
"A nobody like you isn't shit!"
For such a small frame, her voice was shockingly loud.
Fujimiya only grew calmer, watching her like a hunter observing a bleeding prey on its last legs.
Then, he spoke matter-of-factly:
"My apologies."
"I lied earlier."
"?"
Sumijima blinked, staring blankly.
Fujimiya continued, "In this space, beyond the basic rules, I have another ability."
"The power to... make lies into truth."
Sumijima's face paled.
She finally understood.
Fujimiya smiled, the mastermind revealing his plot:
"Your comrades' decisions were correct. Testing the rules, pretending to obey—none of it was wrong."
"The reason they 'betrayed' you was because I forced it with this ability."
"You... you...!"
Sumijima trembled violently.
Somehow, she found the strength to stand, staggering toward Fujimiya, flames flickering on her back.
But her mind was consumed by guilt—the filth of doubting Tsuchimuro and Hashihara.
It threatened to tear her apart.
Fujimiya pressed on, relentless:
"You were the only one who fell for my crude trick."
"The only fool who doubted her friends."
"A clown dancing on strings."
"SHUT UP!"
Sumijima's eyes blazed, her body erupting in flames as she lunged.
Fujimiya didn't stop:
"Until the end..."
"Tsuchimuro trusted you."
"YOU SON OF A—!"
Her emotions and flames peaked simultaneously.
Intricate, serpentine patterns crawled across her skin.
"But."
"How disappointed do you think they were?"
"When you betrayed that trust?"
Fujimiya's final words pierced her like a dagger.
For the briefest moment—
Fear.
As her flaming fist neared Fujimiya's face—
Golden hair lashed out like spider silk, entangling her limbs mid-air.
The whiplash nearly tore her apart.
Before she could erupt—
Hashihara's face appeared before her.
Cold. Resolute.
The look alone froze Sumijima's fist.
Then—
A hair-whip smashed into her, sending her spinning across the ground.
Sumijima didn't fight back.
Hashihara's usually annoying face now only brought crushing guilt.
The memory of the blade through her chest hurt worse than any wound.
Sumijima slid to her knees, struggling to rise—
When a familiar hammer swung down.
"CRACK!"
She was smashed into the dirt.
In her peripheral vision—Tsuchimuro's strange gaze.
The guilt was unbearable.
Her flames sputtered out.
That strike had drained her last reserves.
Only consciousness remained.
Sumijima lay in the crater, murmuring:
"...All my fault."
"Yes."
Fujimiya's voice was ice.
"All your fault."
"..."
Sumijima fell silent, her eyes dimming.
No more rage. No more fight.
Spiritual pressure, stamina, will—all gone.
Fujimiya's feet entered her blurry vision.
A hand grabbed her collar, yanking her up to eye level.
"But you're in luck."
"There's a way to atone."
Sumijima's eyelids twitched.
Fujimiya smiled.
"Just obey a few small requests after we return to reality."
"Three or five will do."
"You'll do it, won't you?"
"Sumijima-san."
As he spoke—
Their eyes met.
Twin hearts overlapped in their pupils.
[Falsehood made real]
[Defining Falsehood]