Midnight.
I couldn't sleep. Too much nervous energy. Too much anticipation of the coming battle.
I was running through fusion combinations in the courtyard—testing [Shadow Stealth] with [Psychic Defense], trying to create a stealth mode that hid both physical presence and spiritual signature—when Kasumi found me.
"We're leaving," she said without preamble.
I deactivated my abilities. "What?"
"Master Yamada and I discussed it. Staying here is suicide." She gestured at the checkpoint fortifications. "We've done good work, but it won't matter. Twelve specialists plus Fujimoto? We'd last maybe an hour. Less if they bring siege equipment."
"So we run again?"
"We relocate. Strategically." She unrolled a map—hand-drawn, marking territories and spiritual hotspots. "There's a city three days northeast. Matsuyama. Major population center, multiple Daimyo factions, heavy Specter activity. Perfect environment for what we need."
"Which is?"
"Chaos." Her finger traced routes through the mountains. "In open territory, the Ghost Slayers can coordinate freely. Use their numbers and training to maximum advantage. But in a city? With civilians, political complications, territorial disputes? Their advantage disappears."
I studied the map. Matsuyama was marked with several red symbols—indicators of High-Tier Specter activity.
"You want me to hunt there," I said. "Consume more abilities while using the city's complexity as cover."
"Partially. But more importantly—" she tapped a specific location, "—Matsuyama is where Grand Master Kurosawa's conspiracy has visible infrastructure. According to the intelligence we extracted from the Tengu's memories... sorry, wrong timeline." She blinked. "According to what Kenta heard, there are suspicious Specter movements in that region. Coordinated. Unnatural."
"Part of the False Night Parade preparation."
"Exactly. If we're going to stop Kurosawa's plan, we need more information. Need to understand the full scope." She rolled up the map. "And you need to get stronger. Much stronger. The abilities you have now won't be enough."
She wasn't wrong.
I'd fought four reconnaissance specialists and barely held my own. Against a full strike team with a Containment Master leading them? I'd be overwhelmed in minutes.
"When do we leave?" I asked.
"Now. Before they can establish a perimeter." She glanced toward the command post. "Master Yamada is preparing mobile barrier seals. Takeshi is gathering supplies. Kenta is already packed—fugitive habits, apparently."
"And you want me to just... abandon this position? After all the preparation?"
"The preparation was never about holding the checkpoint." Her expression was serious. "It was about buying time to train you. To develop your combat capabilities. That objective is complete. Now we move to the next phase."
Strategic thinking. Cold. Efficient.
Exactly what we needed.
"One question," I said. "Why are you helping me? Really. You're Ghost Slayers. I'm everything your organization is designed to eliminate. Yet you're actively protecting me, training me, planning my survival. Why?"
Kasumi was quiet for a long moment.
"Because Grand Master Kurosawa represents something worse than a single Specter-human hybrid," she finally said. "He's corrupting the entire Ghost Slayer organization from within. Using our resources, our authority, our reach to position Specters for a mass catastrophe. If he succeeds..." She shook her head. "Thousands will die. Maybe tens of thousands. And the Shogunate will collapse into chaos."
"And stopping him is worth allying with a monster?"
"You're not a monster. Not yet." She met my eyes. "You're someone who's been thrown into an impossible situation and is trying to survive while maintaining some shred of morality. You've spared enemies. Shown restraint. Questioned your own nature." She paused. "Actual monsters don't do that."
Fair assessment.
"But if I cross a line?" I asked. "If I become what you fear?"
"Then I'll kill you myself." No hesitation. No doubt. "That's why I'm here. Master Yamada provides knowledge. Takeshi provides tactical support. Kenta provides intelligence. I provide insurance. If you fall, I end you before you can become a threat."
Honest. Brutal. Appreciated.
"Understood," I said. "Let's go."
We left the checkpoint at first light.
Not through stealth—there was no point hiding from pursuers who were already tracking us. Instead, Master Yamada created a false trail leading west while we headed northeast.
"It'll buy us twelve hours," he said. "Maybe eighteen if we're lucky. After that, they'll realize the deception and adjust."
Twelve hours. Enough to put serious distance between us and the strike team.
The terrain changed as we moved. Rocky hills gave way to forests, then agricultural land. Villages appeared—small settlements where people lived normal lives, unaware of the supernatural conflicts happening around them.
"We should avoid populated areas," Takeshi said. "Less chance of civilian casualties if we're ambushed."
"No." Kasumi was setting a brutal pace, moving with the efficiency of forced march training. "We use populated areas. Ghost Slayers have strict rules about collateral damage. They won't launch full assaults near civilians. Gives us breathing room."
Cynical. Effective.
Kenta was keeping up surprisingly well despite his obvious exhaustion. "How far to Matsuyama?"
"Seventy miles. Three days at normal pace, two if we push." Kasumi glanced back at our group. "We push. The longer we're in open territory, the more vulnerable we are."
We pushed.
By noon, we'd covered fifteen miles. My [Magma Body] made fatigue less of an issue—the constant internal heat seemed to energize my muscles, prevent cramping. But the others were struggling.
"Five minute rest," Kasumi ordered. "Drink water. Light food only."
We collapsed under the shade of a massive oak tree. I wasn't tired exactly, but the Ghost Stomach was hungry. The constant movement without feeding was wearing on it.
"There are Specters in this region," Master Yamada said, studying the landscape with professional interest. "Low-Tier, mostly. Peasant ghosts, minor nature spirits. Nothing worth consuming for your purposes."
"Every essence has value," I said. "Even small ones add up."
"True. But hunting them risks exposure. The spiritual disturbance would be visible to anyone tracking us." He pointed north. "Better to wait until we reach Matsuyama. Urban density will mask your consumption."
Frustrating but logical.
Kenta was sharpening his sword—meditative motion, hands moving with practiced precision. "What's Matsuyama like?" he asked. "I've never been to a major city."
"Chaos," Kasumi said. "Three Daimyo factions competing for control. Merchant guilds with private armies. Criminal organizations running protection rackets. And underneath it all, heavy Specter activity that nobody acknowledges publicly but everyone knows about."
"Sounds dangerous."
"It is. Which makes it perfect." She smiled grimly. "Danger creates opportunity. For someone like Ryan, it's a hunting ground."
The Ghost Stomach pulsed with anticipation.
We moved on.
By evening, we'd covered another twenty miles. My legs were fine, but the others were approaching their limits. Kasumi called for camp in a defensible clearing.
"Four-hour watches," she said. "Rotating pairs. Stay alert. Fujimoto's team could catch up any time."
I took first watch with Takeshi. He positioned himself on high ground while I circled the perimeter, using [Psychic Defense] to scan for hostile intent.
Nothing. Just the ambient spiritual noise of a living forest.
"Can I ask you something?" Takeshi said after an hour of silence.
"Sure."
"What's it like? Consuming Specters. Does it hurt? Do you feel them dying?"
Honest question. Deserved an honest answer.
"Yes and no. The Ghost Stomach processes the essence, filters out most of the consciousness. But traces remain. Memories. Emotions. Fragments of what they were." I paused. "The Vengeful Spirit showed me her betrayal. The Fire Specter showed me its capture. I carry pieces of them now. Not enough to overwhelm me, but enough to remember they were real."
"Does that bother you?"
"Every day." I looked up at the stars. "But the alternative is letting them kill more people. Letting Grand Master Kurosawa use them as weapons. At least this way, their power serves something beyond destruction."
"Rationalization," Takeshi observed. "But a good one."
Fair.
Second watch passed without incident. Third watch—Master Yamada and Kenta—reported minor spiritual activity but nothing threatening.
Fourth watch was Kasumi and me.
We sat back-to-back, weapons ready, scanning opposite directions.
"Tomorrow we reach the outer villages," she said quietly. "Day after, Matsuyama proper. Once we're there, your real work begins."
"Hunting High-Tier Specters."
"And investigating Kurosawa's infrastructure. Finding out what he's planning, where his resources are concentrated, who his agents are." She shifted position slightly. "You'll need to be smart about it. Targeted. If you just rampage through the city consuming everything in sight, you'll draw too much attention."
"I don't rampage."
"Not yet. But with each consumption, you get stronger. Hungrier. The Ghost Stomach's influence grows." She glanced back at me. "I've seen it happening. You're more comfortable with the power now. Less conflicted. That's either growth or corruption, depending on how it develops."
Uncomfortable truth.
"I won't lose control," I said.
"Everyone says that. Right up until they do." She returned to watching her sector. "Just remember—I'm right here. The moment you become more threat than asset, I end you. No hesitation. No regret."
"Noted."
Dawn came slowly. We broke camp efficiently, packed supplies, and moved on.
By mid-morning, we started seeing signs of civilization. Cultivated fields. Road markers. Distant smoke from villages.
"We're close," Kasumi said. "Another day and we'll reach the city outskirts."
The Ghost Stomach stirred with hunger and anticipation.
A major city. Heavy Specter activity. Multiple High-Tier threats.
A buffet of potential power.
The question was: could I consume it all without losing myself in the process?
Or would Matsuyama be where Ryan the human ended and something else began?