The King’s First Decree

Time passed, second by agonizing second.
​As Naobito remained silent, Mirai's expression grew increasingly impatient. The overwhelming power of the Gedo Mazo began to ripple outward from his shadow, suffocating the air in the room.
​I deliberately displayed the Ten Shadows last night so this old man would step down naturally, Mirai thought. But if the Zenin Clan cannot be used as a tool... then it is better to destroy it.
​With the Mangekyō Sharingan, Mirai possessed Kamui Intangibility—a defense in no way weaker than Gojo Satoru's Limitless. And with his offensive Kamui distortion, he had the power to bypass any defense.
​He had the qualifications to be the Strongest. But he wasn't invincible yet.
​He lacked information. He lacked Cursed Tools. And most importantly, he needed a steady stream of "food" for the Gedo Mazo to accelerate his growth.
​That was the only reason he hadn't slaughtered the entire clan last night. He needed their wealth. He needed their labor.
​But if they couldn't be controlled...
​The shadow at Mirai's feet began to spread, darkening the tatami mats. A terrifying, dense killing intent swept through the room.
​Zenin Jinichi, who only now realized something was terribly wrong, twitched his eyebrows and hurriedly assumed a fighting stance.
​Noticing this, Naobito's expression changed. He saw the shadow reaching for Jinichi.
​"I agree," Naobito said quickly.
​The pressure in the room vanished instantly.
​Naobito sighed, lowering his sake gourd. "I will announce the news after the meeting. You are the new Clan Head."
​Naobito was not a power-hungry man. His hesitation stemmed only from fear of Mirai's instability.
​Was the death of Captain Noburo last night simply because he hesitated to move out of the way? A Captain-level sorcerer, killed for a traffic violation?
​If Naobito abdicated now, would Mirai torment the clan to death?
​But seeing the boy's eyes, Naobito realized he had no choice. The existence of the Ten Shadows made Mirai the rightful heir anyway. Naobito had planned to teach the boy for a few years, to soothe his resentment.
​But Mirai wouldn't wait.
​"Good," Mirai said, his expression unchanged. He immediately issued his second request.
​"Send half of the family's sorcerers out on missions. Their only objective is to capture Cursed Spirits alive and bring them back."
​"Imprison them deep in the Disciplinary Pit."
​After a pause, Mirai's voice grew colder. "Old man. I am the Clan Head now. You only need to obey my orders."
​The sudden shift in power dynamics was jarring for Naobito. But facing the threat of extermination, he could only nod.
​"Give me the key to the Warehouse," Mirai demanded.
​Naobito didn't hesitate. He pulled a heavy key, imbued with Cursed Energy, from his robe and tossed it.
​Snatch.
​A shadow hand emerged from the floor, caught the key in mid-air, and sank back into the darkness.
​Mirai glanced coldly at Jinichi, then turned and headed toward the forbidden area of the estate.
​Before leaving, he spoke without turning his head.
​"I will be staying in the Warehouse for the next few days. Organize all intelligence on Special Grade Cursed Spirits and send it to me immediately."
​Mirai vanished around the corner.
​Naobito watched the departing figure, and his dejected posture suddenly straightened. A strange light shone in his eyes.
​"Okay. I'll have someone prepare it."
​"Old man?"
​Zenin Jinichi blinked in confusion. "What is going on? Why did you agree so easily?"
​Naobito ignored him. He sat down on the edge of the corridor and took a long swig of sake. He glanced at the spot in the room where Jinichi had been sitting moments ago.
​"I thought the child was just drunk on power," Naobito muttered. "I thought he was just venting his frustration."
​"But he actively asked for intelligence. He wants to capture Cursed Spirits alive. He has a plan." Naobito wiped his mouth. "He isn't just a reckless monster. He has a goal."
​"You're happy about this?" Jinichi asked, incredulous. "Don't you have even the slightest resentment? That brat forced you to relinquish your position!"
​"Jinichi," Naobito said softly. "Look behind you."
​Jinichi turned.
​He froze. His face went pale.
​He finally understood why Naobito had tackled him out of the room.
​Directly behind where Jinichi had been sitting, there was a massive, perfectly circular hole in the wall. It wasn't broken or smashed. The matter was simply gone.
​If he had stayed seated for one second longer, his head would have vanished into that hole.
​Jinichi swallowed hard, cold sweat drenching his back.
​"Old man," Jinichi stammered, his voice sharp with fear. "Didn't the Patriarch order half the sorcerers to capture Cursed Spirits?"
​"Why aren't we moving yet?!"
​Naobito chuckled, his mustache trembling. "Now you understand."
​The Forbidden Warehouse.
​Deep inside the hollowed-out mountain behind the estate lay the Zenin Clan's treasury.
​Mirai pushed open the heavy sealed doors.
​Rows of Cursed Tools were displayed on wooden shelves. Hundreds of weapons, worth billions of yen, sat collecting dust. It was a silent testament to the Clan's wealth.
​Mirai glanced at them briefly, then lost interest.
​Inferior, he thought. Compared to the Gunbai Fan, these are toothpicks.
​He headed deeper, toward the sounds of roaring coming from the basement levels. The "Disciplinary Pit."
​As he descended the stairs, the darkness swallowed him.
​The shadow beneath his feet began to boil. The void beside his shoulder began to ripple.
​Twenty minutes later.
​"Not enough! Still not enough!"
​Mirai's laughter echoed off the cave walls.
​"These Cursed Spirits... these negative emotions... it's all insufficient!"
​He was bathed in a rain of blood. His pristine white robes were now stained crimson, making him look like a demon.
​The massive Divine Dog: Totality and the Great Serpent moved nimbly through the pit, tearing apart the distorted monsters stored there.
​Every time a spirit was weakened, a giant, withered hand emerged from the dimensional rift at Mirai's shoulder. It grabbed the spirit, dragged it into the void, and fed it directly to the Gedo Mazo.
​Crunch. Gulp.
​Mirai could feel the surge of Cursed Energy flooding back into him. It was intoxicating.
​Mirai himself was part of the slaughter. He lunged forward, grabbing a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit that was twice his size. With his bare hands, he tore it limb from limb.
​Rumble!
​The turmoil emanating from the depths of the mountain sent chills down the spines of the sorcerers guarding the entrance.
​They stood outside, holding stacks of intelligence files Naobito had ordered them to bring.
​They wanted to enter. But hearing the maniacal laughter and the screams of dying curses from below, they hesitated, their hands trembling uncontrollably.
​The new Clan Head... was feeding.