Sana slid off the table and closed the distance in an instant. Daiki had his hands on the bars, still smirking, until Sana produced a knife with startling speed and drove it straight into his throat.
Blood sprayed across the iron. Daiki staggered back, choking, his fingers clawing at the wound before his legs gave way. He collapsed to the floor, twitching before going still.
Sana wiped the blade on his trousers and glared at the rest of us. “Let this be a reminder: There’s a pecking order here. Do not forget your place.”
He stormed out, leaving Daiki’s body crumpled on the floor. A Chopman unlocked my cell without meeting my eyes. “Move!”
58
The staging area buzzed like a hive, the last four Blades and their Handles huddled in tight-knit groups, whispering strategies I wasn’t privy to. Did they know something I didn’t? No one had bothered to tell me what tonight’s challenge was.
What I did know was this: The four left were still threats, each one terrifying in their get-up.
Ono Oroshi, the Axe Butcher, was broad-shouldered, carrying his namesake battle-axe. His Handles beamed with pride, the only ones grinning, clapping him on the back like they already knew he’d win.
Not far away stood Kubikiri Nabe, the Executioner’s Pot, with his massive iron cauldron strapped to his back. He was so big his Handles all but disappeared behind him.
Sumi Yari, the Charcoal Spear, gripped a long pike, more skewer than weapon, spinning and adjusting it with unnerving ease as he listened intently to his Handles.
And off to the side stood Hone Giri, the Bone Crusher. He rested his massive wooden mallet against one shoulder while his Handles, the youngest pair of them all, fussed over him, the husband whispering in his ear, the wife smoothing his costume and wiping down his mask with a hand wipe. What a joke.
I had nothing to match their theatrics. Just my costume, my mask, and a pair of prop knives that felt laughable against their oversize weapons. We hadn’t even been given our shields.
Standing apart from the clusters of Blades and their Handles, I felt like a leftover piece of gas station sushi.
When Masaki finally appeared, relief swept through me. He moved straight to my side, fingers fussing with the straps of my mask.
“Can you see okay?” he asked, his tone flat, like we were strangers.
“Yes, but?—”
“Shhh.” He cut me off, still tugging at the straps. His hands lingered longer than necessary. Only then did I notice the other Chopmen nearby, hovering just close enough to overhear. Masaki wasn’t fixing my mask at all. He was waiting for them to move on.
“Ginji remained very secretive about tonight’s challenge. He knows you’re being fed information. What I do know is no one will be given real weapons.”
“Well, that’s good. At least we’re all in the same boat.”
Masaki didn’t smile. “Speaking of boats, there’s water and boats. You’ll have to do something with them.”
He kept adjusting my mask, tugging at straps that didn’t need fixing. His words were so vague it almost made me laugh. Like telling someone Be careful and don’t die.
“I wish I could tell you more,” he said quietly. “My advice? Let the others make their moves first and stumble. Their Handles are desperate for winnings and greedy enough to push them past their limits. Too much money rides on the bets. That pressure is your advantage.”
The doors swung open and the roar of the crowd crashed in, drowning out whatever scraps of conversation remained. We fell into single file, me at the end, and marched into the blaze of lights.
The cheering shifted almost at once into a chant of my character’s name:
Chisana Itamae!
Chisana Itamae!
Chisana Itamae!
Ginji didn’t spare me a glance as we walked out. He was too busy waving to the crowd, trying to drag their eyes back to him. But he was the least of my concerns.
Because then I saw the challenge.
A massive waterway circled the arena like an aqueduct, raised about four feet off the floor. The walls gleamed under the lights, polished metal bright as steel, and within the channel floated dozens of full-size replicas of the wooden boats you’d normally see circling a sushi conveyor. They crowded the current end to end, drifting in an endless loop. The center of the arena was left open, ringed by staircases that climbed to platforms overlooking the river.
