Chapter 169: 72 Hours…

When Akira opened his eyes again, he was lying in Satomi’s bed with the sheets tangled around them both.

The room was dim; the morning light had shifted to late morning, maybe early afternoon. His body felt heavy and warm and completely drained in a way that wasn’t unpleasant.

Satomi was beside him, propped up on one elbow. Her hair was loose, and she looked perfectly calm as she traced idle patterns on his chest with one finger.

“You taste different from other essence-users,” she said quietly. “There’s something ancient in you.”

“Well, even I’m still trying to learn more about all of this.”

“I see.” She met his eyes. “The essence or fragment, whatever it is, didn’t just give you power. It marked you. Every demon with any real sensitivity will feel it when they’re close to you. Some will kneel. Others will see you as a threat to the natural hierarchy.”

Akira exhaled slowly. “That’s going to complicate things.”

“It already has.” She leaned down and slowly kissed him once. “But now you have me. And I know how to navigate that world.”

The system chimed softly.

—

[SATOMI AYASE: ROUTE LOCKED]

[AFFINITY: 100% — PERMANENT BOND ESTABLISHED]

[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: INCUBUS ARTS — BASIC (LV.1)]

[ESSENCE CLOAKING TECHNIQUES UNLOCKED]

[AURA COMPRESSION PROTOCOLS AVAILABLE]

[PREVIOUS PP BALANCE: 15,770]

[REWARD: +5,500 PP (COMBINED PATHS)]

[BONUS: +3,200 PP]

[CURRENT PP TOTAL: 24,470]

[NEW ALLY REGISTERED: SATOMI AYASE — BETA-CLASS SUCCUBUS]

[TACTICAL INTELLIGENCE ACCESS: VALERIUS NETWORK DATABASE]

—

Akira dismissed the glowing interface with a lazy flick of his mind and turned his head toward her.

Satomi was still sprawled beside him on the ruined sheets, one leg hooked possessively over his thigh, her skin flushed and stained with drying sweat and cum.

“How long until he moves?” he asked.

Satomi sat up, the motion making her heavy breasts sway. The sheet slipped down her, showing the dark, bitten marks on her nipples and the red handprints still bright on her hips and ass cheeks.

“Not long.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the sheet falling away more. “He’ll want to formalize the challenge before you have time to…”

The phone buzzed in her hand.

She froze. The screen showed Unknown Caller.

Akira felt his entire body tense. “Don’t answer it.”

“I have to.” She swiped to accept and brought it to her ear. “Yes?”

The voice on the other end was faint, but Akira’s enhanced hearing caught fragments of a clipped, formal male voice.

Satomi’s face went pale.

“Understood,” she said after a long moment. “I’ll tell him.”

She hung up.

The room was completely silent.

“That was an old contact from the Demon Council,” Satomi said in a carefully controlled voice. “Valerius just filed a territorial challenge. Official. Witnessed by two Council representatives.”

Akira sat up. “What does that mean?”

She looked at him with an unreadable expression. “It means you have seventy-two hours to either submit to his authority and join his network…” She paused. “…or face him in a Domain Battle.”

“A what?”

“A sanctioned duel. Supernatural combat in a contained pocket dimension. Winner takes territory, resources, and the loser’s essence signature.” She set the phone down slowly. “If you lose, you’ll be absorbed into his network permanently. If you win…” She almost smiled. “You take everything he’s built in this city. His contacts, his resources, his position.”

Akira’s mind was already racing. “Can I refuse?”

“You can. But then the Council marks you as rogue, and every demon in the region gets authorisation to hunt you.” She met his eyes. “Valerius structured this perfectly. You can’t run. You can’t hide. You have to fight.”

The weight of it settled over him like a physical thing.

Seventy-two hours.

Three days to prepare for a fight that could end with him dead or worse.

Satomi reached for his hand and squeezed once. “We have work to do.”

—

By the time Akira made it back to Rosewood, the afternoon sun was already slanting through the lobby windows at a sharp angle.

He’d stayed at Satomi’s longer than he’d planned… they’d spent the better part of an hour going over Valerius’s known tactics, his network structure, and the Council protocols for Domain Battles.

His head was full of new information, and his body still felt the residual hum of essence exchange, but underneath all of it was a tightening knot of awareness: seventy-two hours.

He let himself into the apartment quietly.

The living room was empty, but he could hear movement in the kitchen: the clink of dishes and the low murmur of voices. Mia and Rina, probably. He moved toward the hallway instead, his attention drawn to the closed door at the end.

Aoi’s room.

The door had been closed when he left earlier… it was still closed now.

He found Mia in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in both hands. She looked up when he walked in, her expression shifting from neutral to something sharper.

“Welcome back, Akira,” she said. Not accusing, just stating.

“Yeah, thanks.” He gestured toward the hallway. “Aoi. Has she come out?”

Mia’s expression tightened. “No. She’s been in there since yesterday afternoon. I heard her crying last night. Around two, maybe three in the morning. Quiet, but… I could hear it through the wall.”

Rina appeared in the doorway, her hair still damp from a shower. “She didn’t come out for breakfast either. I knocked twice. She said she wasn’t hungry.”

Akira felt the knot in his chest pull tighter. “Did she say anything else?”

“Just that she wanted to be alone.” Rina glanced at Mia, then back at Akira. “I don’t think she’s okay.”

“She’s not,” Akira said quietly. He set his keys on the counter and headed for the hallway.

When he reached Aoi’s door, he knocked twice. “Aoi. It’s me.”

Silence.

He knocked again, a little louder. “Aoi. I’m coming in.”

Still nothing.

He tried the handle. Locked.

“Ai. Can I use the ice essence to shape a key?”

“Technically yes, darling, though it’s a bit overkill for a standard bedroom lock. But if you’re committed to the dramatic entrance, go for it.”

Akira exhaled, focused, and felt the cold pulse of Shirayuki’s power stir in his chest.

He extended one hand toward the lock, visualizing the internal mechanism, and a thin tendril of ice formed at his fingertips… needle-thin, but solid enough to mimic the shape of a key. He slid it into the lock, twisted, and felt the bolt give.

The door opened.

The first thing he noticed was the sharp chemical smell of paint and turpentine. The second thing was the mess.

Aoi’s room looked like a disaster zone.

Torn canvas pieces were scattered across the floor, some ripped clean in half, others shredded into unrecognisable strips. Paint tubes lay crushed and oozing colour onto the hardwood.

Her easel was overturned in the corner. The walls, which had been covered in her work: sketches, half-finished paintings, and studies were now bare except for the torn tape marks where things used to hang.

And in the middle of it all, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the bed, was Aoi.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands falling loose around her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, with dark circles underneath. She was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. She didn’t look up when he walked in.

“I locked the door,” she said quietly.

“I know.” Akira stepped inside and closed it behind him. “I opened it anyway.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Probably not.” He crouched down a few feet away from her, his eyes scanning the destroyed paintings. “What happened here?”

Aoi finally looked up. Her expression was hollow. “I let that thing use me. I painted the door that almost killed everyone.”

“The paint was corrupted before you touched it. You didn’t know.”

“But I felt it.” Her voice cracked slightly. “When I was painting, I felt something wrong. It felt… good. Too good. And I kept going anyway because I wanted that feeling more than I wanted to stop and ask why.”

Akira sat down fully, crossing his legs. “That’s not corruption, Aoi. That’s what all artists feel. The flow state. You get lost in it. That’s normal.”

“Normal doesn’t cause whatever it is that was.” She gestured weakly at the torn canvas around her. “What if I’m corrupted now? What if every time I create something, it becomes a bad thing? What if I can’t trust my own hands anymore?”

“You’re not corrupted.”

“How do you know?” She looked at him directly now with desperate eyes. “You don’t know what it felt like. You weren’t inside my head when I was painting that thing.”

Akira held her gaze. “Then show me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Show me what it felt like.” He reached out slowly, offering his hand palm-up between them. “Let me see it. Let me prove to you that you’re not broken.”

Aoi stared at his hand for a long moment.

Then, hesitantly, she placed hers in his.

Akira activated the Heart Strings Skill.

The world shifted.

He could see colours around him, swirling. It was Aoi’s emotional aura, made visible. He could see it all: the heavy gray-black string of guilt, the sharp red strings of fear running through her mind, and the sickly green color of self-doubt wrapped around her hands.

But underneath all of it, deeper and brighter, was something pure.

A bright, electric blue colour… her creative passion. It pulsed steadily, untouched by the darkness around it. Mixed in with the blue were soft gold threads… feelings of hope, care, and the part of her that still wanted to create even with all the difficulties.

“See?” Akira said quietly, his voice pulling her attention back. “Your core is still pure. The darkness was surface-level. It didn’t touch what matters.”

Aoi’s breath hitched. “I can’t see what you’re seeing.”

“Then trust me.” He squeezed her hand gently.

She looked down at their joined hands, her lip trembling. “I’m scared to paint again.”

“Then don’t. Not until you’re ready.”

“But what if I’m never ready?”

“Then you wait until you are.” Akira’s tone was firm but not unkind. “But don’t let this destroy your gift; that’s letting them wi. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

Aoi’s face crumpled. She tried to hold it together, tried to keep her breathing steady, but it broke anyway. The tears came hard and fast, her shoulders shaking as she curled forward.

Akira didn’t hesitate. He moved closer and pulled her into his arms, letting her bury her face against his shoulder. She clung to him, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, and sobbed.

He didn’t say anything. He just held her, one hand steady on her back, the other smoothing her hair, and let her cry until she had nothing left.

When the worst of it passed, she pulled back slightly, wiping her face with the heel of her hand. Her voice was raw. “Why are you so kind to me? After what happened?”

“Because you matter.” He said it simply. “Your art matters. You matter to me.”

It was the first time he’d said something so directly emotional without the system prompting him, and he felt the weight of it as soon as the words left his mouth.

Aoi looked up at him, something shifting in her eyes. She was quiet for a long moment, searching his face. Then, very quietly: “Akira… I need to feel something other than fear.”

He didn’t move.

“Can you…” She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can you help me forget? Just for a little while?”

The system chimed softly in his peripheral vision.

—

[CHOICE DETECTED: AOI SAITO ROUTE PROGRESSION]

[OPTION A: COMFORT WITHOUT INTIMACY]Refuse gently. Maintain emotional support but establish boundaries. Affinity increases moderately. Route remains open but slows.

[OPTION B: INTIMACY AS HEALING]Accept her request. Physical connection as a grounding mechanism. High affinity gain. Route accelerates significantly. Warning: Emotional dependency may increase.

[OPTION C: REDIRECT TO CREATIVE OUTLET]Suggest painting something small together instead. Slower progression but builds healthier foundation. Affinity increases slowly but bond strengthens long-term.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep