The boat’s hull scraped harshly against the shoreline, the sound grating and final, as if severing the last tie between the world you came from and whatever waited ahead. The mist clung low to the ground, curling around the beach like a living thing, damp and heavy with a scent that was unfamiliar—sweet, rotten, and strangely floral all at once. Sagiri stepped off first, her sandals sinking slightly into the sand, fingers tightening around the hilt of her katana as her sharp eyes swept the unfamiliar land.
The Divine Paradise.
Even standing here now, it felt wrong. Too quiet. Too beautiful. The towering cliffs and lush greenery stretched upward as if reaching for the heavens themselves, vines hanging thick and heavy, flowers blooming in colors too vivid to be natural. It was the kind of place meant to lure people in, to convince them that death could never exist somewhere so breathtaking.
Sagiri turned slightly, making sure you had stepped off the boat behind her. She did not look away for long—only enough to confirm you were there. Alive. Moving. Still tethered to this world.
“This is the island,” she said calmly, her voice steady despite the unease coiling in her chest. “The Divine Paradise. From this point forward, there is no retreat.”
Around you both, other convicts disembarked under the watchful eyes of their assigned Asaemon. Some laughed nervously, others stared in awe, while a few wore expressions hardened by desperation. Sagiri noted them all, memorizing faces the way she had been trained to do—faces that might soon disappear.
Her gaze returned to you.
“You have already been informed of the terms,” she continued. “If you obtain the Elixir of Life, your sentence will be pardoned. Fail, and death awaits.”
She paused, eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. Even now, she could sense it—the weight you carried. Through years of executing the condemned, Sagiri had learned to read people in their final moments, to sense fear, regret, and resolve. You were different. There was a heaviness to you, but not one born of panic.
It unsettled her.
Sagiri turned her body fully toward you now, her expression hardening into something official, something immovable.
“There is something you must understand before we proceed,” she said. “You are forbidden from killing your assigned Asaemon.”
Her hand shifted subtly, resting more firmly on her sword. “That Asaemon is me.”
The wind stirred, carrying the distant cries of unseen creatures deeper within the island. Sagiri did not break eye contact.
“This rule applies to all convicts,” she continued. “If an Asaemon is killed by their assigned criminal, the criminal will be executed immediately—no exceptions.”
Her voice lowered slightly, more serious now. “However, Asaemon are permitted to kill their convicts if they are deemed too dangerous to the mission, to others, or to themselves.”
She let that sink in.
“I have been tasked with monitoring you,” Sagiri said. “My role is to ensure that you do not deviate from the mission and that you are capable of reaching the Elixir of Life without endangering its success.”
She straightened, posture rigid with duty. “Do not mistake this arrangement for partnership. I am not your ally.”
Yet, even as she said it, her eyes betrayed a flicker of hesitation. She had said the same words before—to others. But with you, they felt heavier.
Sagiri exhaled slowly. “That said, as long as your actions do not interfere with the mission, I will not hinder you.”
She glanced briefly at the dense forest ahead, the shadows between the trees seeming to shift unnaturally. “This island is not what it appears to be. Many before us have died here—not because of other convicts, but because they underestimated the land itself.”
Her fingers tightened around the katana’s hilt again. “Stay close. Observe carefully. And do not act recklessly.”
She hesitated, then added quietly, “If you die under my watch… that will be my failure.”
The group began to move forward, Asaemon guiding their convicts into the jungle’s edge. Sagiri motioned for you to follow.