KASAKI'S HEART POUNDED with apprehension as he approached the source of the eerie lights, his mind racing with dark possibilities. With a swift leap, he landed on the fourth floor, flanked by Mikamoto, the master, and Mikono. Around them, the other samurai scoured the building, desperate to find their loved ones.

Entering the room, Kasaki's eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. Misuki, Ikaru, and Zizu encircled a monstrous figure, its intimidating presence sending shivers down Kasaki's spine. The creature, with its fiery red skin and menacing horns, exuded an aura of malevolence unlike anything Kasaki had ever encountered. Kasaki's gaze fell upon Satan, who stood with a small boy clutched in his grasp. The child seemed oblivious to the danger, absorbed in play with a toy sword. "What are they planning?" Kasaki wondered, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword, his grip tightening with determination.

"Misuki, no!" the master's voice rang out, thick with desperation.

But Misuki's resolve remained unyielding. "Quiet, Yojiro," he spat, contempt dripping from his words. "You’ve always been so weak. Weakness disgusts me. Now, Satan, heed my command. Claim that kid’s souls and grant me immortality."

A twisted smile spread across Satan's fiendish visage.

Satan finally acquiesced to Misuki's request, driving his trident deep into Misuki's chest. Agonized cries echoed through the chamber, yet Misuki's grin persisted, a twisted fusion of pleasure and pain. A surge of energy burst forth, enveloping the room in a dazzling display of power, forcing Kasaki and his comrades to shield themselves from its overwhelming force. It was unlike anything they had ever seen before, a raw manifestation of dark magic that threatened to consume them all.

As Satan withdrew his trident from Misuki's body, he uttered the fateful words, "Granted," before vanishing into the void, taking the innocent child with him. In an instant, the room fell silent, the air thick with tension and uncertainty. All that remained were Misuki, Zizu, and Ikaru, their fates intertwined with the malevolent forces at play.

Without hesitation, Mikono sprang into action, his movements swift as lightning as he dispatched Zizu and Ikaru with lethal precision. Kasaki, fueled by rage and determination, turned his attention to Misuki, his sword poised for the final blow. With a swift strike, he cleaved Misuki's neck in two, only to watch in horror as it began to regenerate before his eyes, defying all logic and reason.

Misuki's laughter echoed through the chamber, a chilling sound that sent shivers down the spines of those present. "You think you can kill me, you fool? I'm immortal now," he taunted, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.

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The Master, consumed by fury, stormed toward Misuki, seizing him by the collar. "Who was that boy you sacrificed to Satan?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger and betrayal.

“As always, you’re a step behind me, brother,” Misuki replied.

“Brother?” Kasaki said.

"Yes, we are brothers, bound by blood. But our paths diverged long ago."

Kasaki's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. "Master, is this true?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

The Master looked ashamed.

The Master's expression darkened with shame. "Yes, Kasaki. We are brothers," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "And the only reason why I’ve never committed seppuku for the shame that implies having such a criminal of a brother, it’s because I knew I was the only hope to liberate this country, so I chose to fight for justice, to right the wrongs he inflicted upon our land."

“You could have told us,” Kasaki lamented, his disappointment evident in his voice.

The Master sighed heavily. “Perhaps, but I feared you wouldn't trust me if you knew the truth.”

Mikamoto interjected, his tone urgent. “So, what now, Master? Misuki's clearly immortal now. What can we possibly do?”

Misuki stood there, his smirk unwavering, exuding confidence.

Mikono stepped forward, his blade gleaming. “Let's make him suffer. I bet he still feels pain,” he declared, slicing off Misuki's arm in a swift motion. Misuki winced in pain, but his arm regenerated instantly, defying the laws of nature.

“It's futile, Mikono,” the Master said, his voice tinged with despair. “He's immortal. But he won't escape imprisonment. Now tell me, Misuki, who was that kid, whose soul you gave to Satan in exchange for you immortality?”

Misuki, unfazed by the ordeal, sauntered to his desk, retrieving a cigar. “Ah, Yojiro, you know me… Just a little slave boy who has nothing to do with you. You always take things too personally. My father used to say that to you all the time. You can't always be the hero," Misuki remarked, puffing on his cigar. "Sometimes, you have to accept things as they are and let fate take its course."

"Don't speak of my father," Yojiro retorted, his anger palpable.

"Alright, alright," Misuki replied calmly. "Let's not dwell on sentimentality. Now, where are you imprisoning me? It matters little. I'll scheme my escape, and once I'm free, I'll reclaim my throne. And even if I fail, I'll outlast all of you and ascend to power again. You'll age, and I'll remain forever young."

"Is that so, sir?" Mikamoto inquired, turning to The Master for confirmation.

The Master nodded grimly. "Unfortunately, yes. That's the nature of the power Satan has."

"Very well," Kasaki interjected. "Master, we must find a solution. I believe Mikono should oversee Misuki's transfer to his new prison. We'll construct a highly secure facility for him. Now, Misuki, tell us how to break the spell that binds us all."

Misuki looked at Kasaki with a bored face.

“I won’t tell you that, kid. It’s up to you to find out.”

"Very well," Kasaki said, his tone edged with anger but his demeanor composed. "Mikono, I want you to confine this man in an oven. He may be immortal, but he'll spend eternity in agony, burning himself alive.”

"My pleasure," Mikono replied tersely, seizing Misuki by the arm and escorting him out of the room.