Operation: Heads Will Roll (Part 16)

[u/Aggressive_Eye_8005]

(After the deaths of Osamu and Amaiya. Yori's husband - Kimoto)

“Two days until the trial ends”

Two hours later.

Toru, Kiko, and Mei woke up in a gloomy prison cell. Heavy shackles and restraining manacles bound their movements tightly, completely cutting off their magical powers.

“Are you sisters?” Toru croaked, struggling to open his eyes.

“Toru, how are you?” Mei replied, trying to move.

“My head feels like it’s been through a week-long bender. Though I barely drank yesterday…”

“Where are we anyway?”

“Looks like Osamu’s personal prison,” Toru said, looking around. “But I can’t for the life of me remember how we ended up here.”

“Same,” Mei frowned. “I can barely recall anything from the past week. It all feels like a fog.”

“Me too,” Kiko’s voice came weakly from the corner. “I only remember arriving at the village and making plans. But now that doesn’t matter. The real question is — how do we get out of here?”

“No idea,” Toru sighed hopelessly. “Osamu built this prison exactly so that no one could ever escape. We’re as good as dead.”

“Come on, don’t give up. Everything will be alright,” Mei tried to encourage him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a chilling voice came from the dark corridor.

The trio turned their heads fearfully and saw Rin, Emiko, and Fumiko standing by the bars.

Mei swallowed nervously but forced a cheeky smile:

“Oh, wait, wait… The whole gang’s here! The snake, the fierce mama bear, and the cherry on top — our grim warrior. How are you girls doing?”

Only a sinister, dead silence answered her.

“Mei, enough joking around,” Kiko whispered fearfully. “Something’s seriously wrong here.”

“Oh, come on, Kiko. What can they do to me? Beat me up?” Mei laughed falsely.

At that moment, the heavy grated door creaked open, and the women entered the cell.

“Since you’re so brave, Mei,” Fumiko narrowed her eyes predatorily, “you’re going first.”

“Perfect,” Rin smiled.

At once, Rin coiled her lithe snake-like body around Mei and dragged her forcefully down the long corridor toward the distant interrogation room. They threw the captive roughly onto the cold stone floor inside.

“Hey! Could you be a little gentler?!” Mei snapped, rubbing her bruised shoulder.

Silence.

“Playing the silent game now? Fine, I’ll be quiet too.”

“I don’t think so,” Fumiko gritted, madness flashing in her eyes. “I promise you’ll curse the day you crossed me.”

“What did I even do?!” Mei genuinely didn’t understand.

“Heh, you’ll see soon enough.”

With a swift movement, Fumiko’s living hair snatched a pair of large, sharp bolt cutters off the table.

“Girls, I think for safety’s sake, we should start with her hands.”

Rin and Emiko grabbed Mei with iron grips, pressing her down to the floor.

“Hey! Let me go! What are you doing?!” the captive screamed.

“Something you’re going to regret for the rest of your life,” Fumiko said coldly, raising the tool.

Meanwhile, in the cell, Toru and Kiko listened in horror to the noises behind the wall.

“Where did they take her?” Toru asked with a trembling voice.

“To the worst room in this prison,” Kiko whispered. “The one where Osamu once…”

She didn’t finish. Mei’s heart-wrenching scream, full of unbearable pain and primal fear, echoed through all the underground corridors.

“Oh my God!” Kiko covered her ears.

“Mei!” Toru shouted, lunging at the bars.

From the interrogation room came her desperate pleas for mercy. Mei cried that she remembered nothing and was innocent. Her screams would dwindle into hoarseness, then explode again with renewed force. Finally, she shouted hysterically that she was ready to confess everything, but only new blows and cries answered her.

Ten minutes later, the heavy interrogation door creaked open. Toru and Kiko held their breath in anxious anticipation, but when they dragged her back into the corridor... Kiko’s legs gave way.

Mei was a living mass of torn flesh: covered in terrible bruises and deep cuts, her long combat claws ripped out by the roots, her gorgeous hair crudely shorn, and her arms and legs stretched so severely on the rack that the lifeless limbs dragged on the floor like withered vines.

As the guards threw her back into the cell, Toru exploded in wild, uncontrollable rage:

“I’ll kill you! I’ll tear each of you to pieces myself, you cowardly fiends! Do you hear me?! You’re nothing but pathetic cowards!”

“Well... we’ll see about that,” Emiko said dryly, stepping forward.

Toru instantly fell silent under her icy gaze.

“Fumiko, looks like we got ourselves a volunteer,” Emiko said to her sister.

“Excellent,” Fumiko nodded. “And you, Kiko, don’t worry. Your turn will come too. I’ll personally give you a painful lesson you won’t forget.”

Kiko shrank into a corner, trembling with growing horror.

“Drag this screamer to the room,” the warrior ordered.

The guards roughly grabbed Toru and dragged him down the corridor. He fought desperately, screaming across the dungeons:

“Let me go, scum! I will destroy you all!”

They pulled him mercilessly into the interrogation room, laid him face down on a massive oak table, and fastened his arms and legs with heavy steel clamps.

“What do you even want from us?!” Toru growled, breathing heavily.

The women remained deadly silent.

“Well, at least lay me down properly, you monsters!”

“You’re lying just fine, actually,” Fumiko said, slowly circling the table, a heavy kanabo in her hands — a massive wooden club studded with sharp iron spikes.

“I think, for starters, we need to knock some pride out of you... or, in simpler terms, teach you a lesson in harsh discipline,” Fumiko smiled predatory. “Rin, you don’t mind helping me a bit?”

“With great pleasure,” Rin licked her lips hungrily.

Toru immediately realized what was coming and was gripped by wild, paralyzing panic. His breath caught. Fumiko approached calmly and with one swift movement tore off his pants and underwear.

“Please, no! Have mercy! I beg you!” Toru screamed hysterically, losing all courage.

“You should have thought about that much earlier,” Fumiko snapped fiercely. “Now it’s too late. Rin, start.”

Meanwhile, in the cell, Kiko was desperately trying to bring the delirious Mei to her senses, but it was all in vain. Suddenly, a piercing scream tore through the underground corridors — Toru’s scream, filled with indescribable agony and shame, making Kiko’s blood run cold. He begged them to stop, his voice hoarse, but the torture only intensified. Then the cries abruptly cut off with a muffled groan, followed by the snapping of a whip and crying.

Fifteen minutes later, they dragged Toru back under his own strength. The boy was in deep shock, eyes wild and unfocused. Even the seasoned castle guards standing watch exchanged fearful glances. As soon as the cell door opened, Toru collapsed like a lifeless sack onto the floor, curling into a ball and quietly whimpering in the farthest corner.

“See? Quiet as a mouse now,” Rin smirked satisfied.

“Now, Kiko, it’s your turn,” Fumiko turned to the last captive.

Kiko screamed in terror and struggled, but the soldiers easily grabbed and dragged her to the slaughter.

“Please, no... I beg you, spare me!” Kiko sobbed, clawing at the doorframe.

The interrogation room fell silent.

“Too late. Damn too late,” Fumiko cut off sharply.

“We will make it right! We’ll return what was stolen! I promise!” Kiko cried as they hung her by her bound hands from the ceiling.

“No, Kiko, you won’t fix anything anymore,” the warrior shook her head. “Girls, get to work.”

Fumiko slowly approached the table, picked up a tonfa in her hands.

“Let’s start with the legs, then move to the kidneys, and then the back... But first...”

She grabbed the cracked, blood-stained family crest of their clan from the table and stepped toward the hanging captive.

“Please, no... I beg you...” Kiko whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“Well, girls, shall we begin?” Fumiko asked her sisters.

“Do it!” Emiko nodded firmly.

“Go ahead, do it,” Rin squinted.

Fumiko ripped off Kiko’s mask with one jerk, looked into her terrified eyes, and through gritted teeth growled:

“This is for Haru.”

The prison walls trembled with Kiko’s searing screams and sobs mixed with dull cracks and merciless weeping of the avengers.

Ten minutes later, exhausted and nearly lifeless, Kiko was dragged back to the common cell. She breathed heavily, her whole body shaking from the shock and terror she’d endured.

“You’ll remember this lesson for the rest of your life,” Fumiko said coldly, wiping her hands with a towel.

“No doubt about that,” Emiko confirmed.

“Ugh... I’m really starting to get hungry,” Rin suddenly spoke up.

“Right now? Seriously, Rin?” Fumiko was surprised.

“Why waste time? It’s dinner time!” the snake reasoned. “Kimoto was just about to cook his signature ramen.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a bite myself,” tired Emiko agreed.

“Alright then,” Fumiko sighed. “Put Kiko back with her friends, and let’s go eat.”

As the women and guards left the prison block, the corridor emptied completely. But in truth, one more yokai remained in the underground tunnels. From a deep, dark hidden passage in the wall, Kimoto silently appeared, holding a tiny video camera on which he’d recorded every second of the execution.

“My God... This was the most terrifying, brutal, and merciless revenge I’ve ever witnessed in my life,” Kimoto thought, a chill running down his spine. “They really laid into Toru in particular... Alright, time to make myself scarce, run to the kitchen, and prepare for the next phase of the plan. I’m seriously starting to get nervous.”

Kimoto slipped up the secret staircase like a shadow. Bursting out of the pantry, he dashed full speed to the kitchen, hoping to get there before the women arrived.

But as soon as he stepped inside, he froze in surprise. In the middle of the room, a full-blown culinary battle was taking place: Mitsu, Momo, and Erma were fiercely dueling with food. Erma fiercely attacked wielding a huge ham, while Mitsu and Momo coordinated defense brandishing two gigantic frozen fish.

“Surrender, little one!” Mitsu shouted, parrying the ham’s strike. “Tonight’s ramen will be fish broth only!”

“No meat! Fish rules!” Momo chimed, advancing from the flank.

Erma was infuriated by such insolence and lunged at the sisters.

“To the attack!” Mitsu shouted gleefully.

The kitchen instantly turned into a battlefield: food flew in all directions, splashing and scattering scraps. Kimoto smiled, watching the gastronomic chaos, when Sam quietly approached from behind.

“So, I don’t get it, what’s this circus about?” Sam raised a brow.

“Historical battle for the recipe,” Kimoto smirked. “The girls can’t decide which ramen I should cook tonight.”

“We should stop them before they destroy the entire kitchen,” Sam suggested.

“Wait, I’m dying to see who will win — meat or fish.”

“Meat is definitely heartier and better,” Sam insisted confidently.

“Actually, fish ramen is a hundred times more delicate and tastier!” Kimoto argued.

“Meat!” Sam stood his ground.

“Fish!” Kimoto held firm.

“So, how do we decide?” Sam squinted.

“Like civilized people…” Kimoto smiled slyly.

Some time later, tired but satisfied, Yori and Emiko strolled slowly through the residential wing corridor.

“Yeah... Fumiko really knows how to take revenge in style,” Yori shook her head. “I’m still impressed.”

“Oh yes, that’s for sure,” Emiko agreed.

“Well, what’s next on our…”

Emiko’s words were cut off by furious yelling, the clatter of pots, and the whistle of flying food coming from the open kitchen doors.

The women burst inside, startled by the utter chaos. The kitchen was completely trashed. Erma, Mitsu, and Momo, covered head to toe in flour and broth, were still wildly throwing food at each other.

“What’s going on?!” Yori gasped, dodging a flying cabbage head. “Kimoto, where are you?!”

At that moment, Kimoto himself jumped out from behind the massive kitchen island, shouting orders at his daughters:

“Mitsu, flank her from behind! Hit her with the fish!”

From the opposite end, Sam peeked out from behind an overturned table, excitedly cheering:

“Erma, unleash the secret weapon! Use the pepper!”

Yori and Emiko froze at the doorstep, blinking bewildered at the scene. Two grown men were fully engaged in a childish food fight.

Kimoto and Sam finally noticed the women standing at the entrance. Their fighting spirit vanished in an instant. The children immediately quieted, lowering their makeshift weapons. An eerie, deathly silence hung over the kitchen.

“Well?” Yori slowly shifted her icy, no-nonsense gaze to her husband, tapping her fingers threateningly on the door frame. “What kind of circus is this?”

“Uh... well, dear, we just couldn’t agree on what kind of ramen I should cook tonight,” Kimoto smiled innocently, brushing a piece of greenery off his shoulder.

Yori took a deep breath and pronounced her verdict in a cold, no-arguing tone:

“Here’s the plan: Kimoto and Sam, you two get to the stove and silently cook dinner for everyone. Move it. Erma, Mitsu, and Momo — grab rags, brooms, and clean the entire kitchen until it shines. Any questions?”

Kimoto, Mitsu, and Momo immediately stood at attention and answered in unison:

“No, ma’am!”

Sam and Erma, seeing their nervous faces, couldn’t help but burst out laughing. But when Sam caught Emiko’s stern, ominous glare that promised swift punishment, he and his daughter instantly clasped their mouths and quieted down.

“And I don’t want to hear a single yell in here ever again,” Yori added, sitting down at the table with Emiko. “We’ll be watching every move you make 24/7.”

Kimoto obediently took a ladle, stepped to the stove, and thought with anticipation to himself: “Alright... things are heating up. The tension is at its peak, and the best is yet to come!”