Unfolding Scrolls, Various Factions

Inside the Tokyo Tower Annex.

Minagawa Keiko lay sprawled limply on the floor, having briefly lost consciousness.

She woke slowly.

Baka. Aku! (Fool! Evil!)

She cursed Fang Yuán mentally.

Her little face burned crimson with embarrassment.

She had never imagined she could be this... wild.

...

She could only clamp both hands tightly over her mouth, stifling any sound from escaping.

Minagawa Keiko struggled to push herself up from the floor.

...

She peeled off the nude stockings and the black string thong.

Opening a drawer, she replaced them with a fresh set in the same colors.

Fortunately, she kept a spare set of clothes in the office.

Her legs felt weak, shaky beneath her; standing was an effort.

The aftershocks of extreme release.

She completed everything while leaning heavily against the desk.

Afterwards, Minagawa Keiko slumped back into her chair.

Unconsciously, she sank into a deep, heavy sleep.

All work was forgotten.

She hadn't slept well last night to begin with.

And now this afternoon's ordeal…

When she finally opened her beautiful eyes again, night had fallen.

This couldn't continue.

She'd done no work all afternoon.

Hesitating slightly, she picked up the phone: "Hi! Sumimasen, I'd like to inquire about a person. Hi! Name is Fujino, a Tokyo police officer. Hi! Hi! Arigatou gozaimasu!"

...

Meanwhile, Tokyo's major factions were thrown into chaos.

In the Shibuya Yoyogi Park Villa.

Abe Na-akari lay in bed, a frown creasing her forehead, wearing a sheer lace negligee.

Hōkibō had vanished after leaving the airport.

Where exactly had he gone?

What was his purpose in coming to Tokyo?

She dialed the man who was her husband in name only, Asai Kinnosuke.

"Stop resting. Deploy immediately. Mobilize every family resource to find out where Hōkibō has gone, and why he came here!"

...

At the main gate of Sensō-ji Temple in Asakusa.

A giant red lantern glowed brightly.

Two clay statues, the Wind God and Thunder God, stood guard on either side.

A young monk, clad in saffron robes, did not pass through the Kaminarimon Gate with the pilgrims heading towards the inner Kannon temple.

Instead, he circled the pillars three times.

His vision shifted.

He stood in a vast circular plaza.

Several elderly monks sat in meditative silence at the plaza's center.

Two colossal stone statues—far larger and more menacing versions of the Wind and Thunder Gods—glared down upon the scene from the sides.

The young monk walked to the center and sat cross-legged behind the elderly monks, palms pressed together.

"Hōkibō landed at the airport, proceeded to Shinjuku... and then vanished."

A cold sneer came from the central elder monk. "So ka. That old cur struts into Tokyo as if our Sensō-ji did not exist."

"Kōichi, petition the Great Brush Immortal ​​[Shikigami: Picture World Flower Bird Brush]​​. Find him. Discover what exactly he intends."

"Hi!" The young monk rose and swiftly departed.

...

Tokyo Imperial Palace, Tenshu-dai.

The headquarters of the Tokyo Spiritual Anomaly Council.

A massive round table held five chairs.

Four were empty.

One was occupied by a beautiful woman.

Her hair styled in a widow's chignon.

Dressed in a figure-hugging black gown.

Behind her stood a handsome young man, head bowed.

It was the Kyoto Exorcist, Takamashi Senma.

His eyes were fixed obsessively on the full curve of the woman's hips spilling over her seat cushion.

There was no hint of a panty line beneath the tight fabric.

She wasn't wearing any underwear underneath.

"Go find that old dog. Discover why he is really here," the beautiful woman instructed softly.

"Hi!" Takamashi Senma nodded, yet his gaze remained transfixed.

He swallowed hard.

Slap!

The woman stood and struck him sharply across the face.

"Hi! Sumimasen!" Takamashi Senma finally snapped to attention, bowing low, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Kuso yarō!" the woman said coldly. "The family gave you ​​[Shikigami: Oni King Shuten-dōji]​​ to wield. This is your trial. To resist its corruption. Or else, you are merely its future meal."

"Hi!" Takamashi Senma could only bow lower, terror washing over him.

The woman's delicate hand gently lifted his chin.

"Work hard," she murmured, leaning close. "The day you master it completely... perhaps I might even let you experience my flavour."

...

Dozens of factions across Tokyo stirred with activity.

No one in the city slept peacefully that night.

Inside the dilapidated house in Shinjuku.

Dim lighting.

On a large tatami mat.

The catgirl sisters lay unconscious to one side.

Kawakita Saika bit her lower lip, cheeks flushed.

She watched the man who was both rude and gentle as he tended to her wounded fox tail.

Gratitude warred with resentment and a fluttering shyness.

He's treating it... but why does he keep squeezing it?!

Especially that first firm pressure near the root at the base of her spine. If not for the pain from the wound distracting her from the intense sensitivity...

She might have screamed.

'Fellow countryman'... what did he mean?

And those words he said I couldn't understand... was he explaining my name?

"Done." Fang Zuo gently laid down Kawakita Saika's tail. "Tell me your story now."

"I... I don't know where I came from..." Kawakita Saika murmured, eyes distant. "My first memory... waking in an apartment..." She began slowly, her voice soft, matching her gentle nature.

Fang Zuo listened patiently, occasionally prompting her for crucial details.

By the time she finished recounting her past, dawn was approaching.

Fang Zuo remained silent, deep in thought.

He crooked a finger, beckoning her closer.

Kawakita Saika edged nearer, tilting her head slightly, expecting words. Instead, his palm pressed firmly against her chest—over her spiritual sea meridian, above her heart.

"You...!" Kawakita Saika instinctively tried to pull away.

A sensation unlike anything she'd ever known flooded her.

A warm tingling. A gentle thrum. And strangely, she didn't want him to move.

Her legs pressed together involuntarily.

Fang Zuo, however, was momentarily startled.

The feel beneath his hand was unexpectedly full, resilient.

Hidden beneath the thin fabric of her rickshaw puller's clothes.

It contrasted sharply with her delicate, doll-like face—a jarring yet captivating allure.

Fang Zuo closed his eyes, unleashing his divine sense.

In an instant.

Her lower dantian energy center and her upper spiritual sea were laid bare before his mind's eye.

Within, a faint image of a nine-tailed white fox.

And superimposed, the distinct, corporeal form of a one-tailed white fox.

So it is.

Fang Zuo synthesized Kawakita Saika's account with the old Tengu's words.

The rough outline of the tale was clear.

Tamamo-no-Mae, the infamous nine-tailed fox demon that had plagued Japan for centuries.

This legendary demon fox had, in fact, originated from the Qingqiu mountains in the Divine Land.

Descended from the White Fox lineage of Qingqiu.

Nine tails—one for each life, one for each wisp of primordial spirit.

After enduring multiple tribulations, even her final tail had been exhausted.

She underwent Molting and Transcendence, releasing her old form and spirit to birth anew.

But somewhere, the process had gone awry.

The new body emerged. A new fox spirit awakened within it.

And the old soul... willingly relinquished its vessel.

That scabbard... it belonged to the former nine-tailed fox demon.

Kawakita Saika didn't know its purpose; she had let the catgirl sisters display it as a mere novelty in their parlor shop.

Though he grasped the sequence of events,

Fang Zuo found himself with even more questions now.

He considered extracting the lingering wisp of the old nine-tailed fox's spirit to interrogate it. But it was too faint, too tenuous.

Questioning it would likely cause it to dissipate completely before speaking.

He'd heard it occasionally seized control of the body. He'd have to wait for such a moment.

Ding ding ding...

Just as Fang Zuo began to sort through these other puzzles,

His phone chimed with an incoming message.

He checked the time.

Three o'clock in the morning.

The message was from Shiraishi Nagimitsu:

"Master... will you... come back? Your servant misses you."