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Chapter 82 - Interlude. The Hunchback of the Pleasure Quarter (2)

The man absorbs my blood and transforms into a Blood Demon.

The gash on my back closes up, and the stab wounds begin to disappear.

"Umeee..."

He summons a scythe made of flesh from his hand and swings it at me.

"Don't you dare...!"

Ho.

He wields his own flesh as a weapon.

Of course, there was no way that attack would touch me.

I simply leaned my head back and easily evaded his strike.

Then...

[Blood Demon Art]

What?

Blood began to seethe and bubble across the scythe in his hand.

And...

[Flying Blood Scythe]

He swung the scythe once more, and at point-blank range a crimson slash flew at me.

It was viscous yet remarkably sharp, a crescent-shaped slash of red.

I tilted my body and evaded the attack.

Not only does he wield his own flesh as a weapon, but he already knows how to use Blood Demon Art?

Moreover...

When the man pointed his finger back at himself,

the bloody slash obeyed his command, curving like a boomerang toward me.

Does it even have a homing function?

Like a loyal hunting hound determined not to lose its prey, the bloody slash charged at me.

I drew my sword from its scabbard and sliced through the slash, sending blood splattering.

Only after I shattered the slash head-on did the game of tag end.

"He truly has outstanding talent as a Blood Demon."

Indeed.

I affirmed in Muzan's voice.

He just became a Blood Demon, and yet he wields his own flesh as a weapon...

He immediately learns Blood Demon Art, understands its nature, and manipulates it freely.

For a Demon, Blood Demon Art is like both a spell and a part of their very flesh.

If suddenly a hand or a foot or a pair of wings sprouted from one's body, could they even make proper use of it?

"Didn't you do precisely that?"

The man who sprouted wings on his back and rose into the air without effort—that is myself.

In any case, neither Amano Ruka nor Uzui Ei could understand and control Blood Demon Art the moment they became Demons.

Perhaps only Hakuji came close.

Still, even he merely grasped it; he didn't wield it as if it were his own to this extent.

The man stood before the girl as if to shield her.

It seems that girl is his sister.

"Is she your sister?"

"Don't you dare, saaamurai..."

Why does he keep elongating his words like that?

Is that some quirk of his character?

His way of speaking is really grating, though.

But that's not what I need to focus on right now.

"First of all, the treatment is over, kiddo."

"You're saaaaying it's over?"

"Brother?"

At the girl's words behind him, the man turned around with a startled expression.

The one he strove to protect has also finished healing.

Well, I'm not sure if you can call it healing.

The girl, previously painted pitch-black, has regained her original color.

"Ume!"

The man swiftly approached her and, with trembling hands, lightly stroked her here and there, searching for something.

Since she was set aflame while still alive, was he checking for any burn scars?

The little girl wept as she clung to him, and he, with those same trembling hands, stroked her and held her close.

We can leave their story for later.

Their tearful reunion comes first, so I decide simply to wait quietly until their tears cease.

@@@

The name of the Samurai who saved us by turning us into Demons is Tsugikuni Michikatsu.

From his mannerisms, he exuded a thoroughly aristocratic air.

At least much more so than those half-baked Samurai we've encountered until now.

This gentleman is also a Blood Demon.

Come to think of it, a Blood Demon.

It's not as though I lived my life unaware of the existence of Demons.

When you work for Gyutaro in the courtesan quarter, you inevitably hear most rumors whether you want to or not.

Monsters that devour humans.

They cannot walk under the sun, but they do not age or die, and they are powerful creatures of greed.

Now they can no longer walk under the sun, must subsist on humans, and cannot mingle among them.

You ask if I have any regrets about becoming such a monster?

Of course not.

On the contrary, I am grateful to the one who made me a Blood Demon.

What advantage do humans have over Blood Demons?

If you're weak, they'll steal from you, and they're those greedy creatures who seize whatever appears vulnerable.

And yet not a single person ever helps.

That, as always, was our daily reality.

There was never a 'human' who would help us.

Not in the past, not now, nor in the future.

Look, the very person who saved us is also a Blood Demon, isn't he?

What worth does a life of nothing but being robbed hold?

I am sick and tired of only ever being taken from.

My life has already been that of a monster.

Does it really matter if I become a true monster?

I have no regrets about becoming a Blood Demon.

No matter how many times I am reborn, I will become a Blood Demon.

I cannot forgive those who seem to live happily.

I will become Gyutaro, the one who takes everything back.

By the way, I don't know where this gentleman is heading.

It feels like he's telling me to follow him without question.

When I say I won't follow...

"If you refuse to follow me, your life from now on will be very difficult, you know?"

He utters strange threats all while wearing a smiling face.

Even if I were to try to strike him from behind right now, I doubt I would succeed.

The skill he displayed earlier.

It was movement on an entirely different level from those half-baked Samurai who merely parade around proclaiming they are samurai.

Even if I genuinely launched a surprise attack, I'd be the one parting head from torso.

As I carried Ume on my back, I glanced at her and thought.

Since Ume is here, I can't make any rash moves.

"Brother, I'm grateful that he saved me, but he gives me the creeps."

Ume whispered in my ear.

Surprisingly...

"Me tooooo."

"I can hear you two, you know."

Ah, he really can hear everything, huh...

And after about half an hour had passed...

We walked and walked, and eventually the man's steps halted in front of a house.

Upon opening the gate, we saw a sizable veranda and a tiled-roof house.

On the veranda, two puppets sat, their limbs clacking, as they watched something.

One was a young man with black hair and sky-blue eyes like Ume, and the other...

Huh? For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me.

"Ugh! How many times are you going to bite me, you crazy old geezer?!"

"Hakuji... A true warrior... does not... neglect mental training..."

"Look over there, brother! They look exactly the same!"

Because they were identical to the Samurai standing before me.

Although he had six eyes.

What on earth is this place...?

@@@

Strangely, perhaps because I have lived as a Demon for so long...

Or because the assimilation with Muzan has progressed to that extent...

The more I lived, the more the abilities Muzan possessed began to unlock.

That is also why Kokushibo could manifest in the present world like this.

The ability to create clones, one of the powers Muzan had.

Because I am now able to use it.

And the clone's persona was Kokushibo himself—my clone, and one could say, a manifestation of Blood Demon Art.

Of course, one cannot expect much in terms of combat power.

Surprisingly, it was weak enough to judge that it would be defeated by Koyuki.

By the way, it seems we played quite a bit.

Judging by Hakuji's disgusted expression, he must have been tormented by Kokushibo in the meantime.

Well, even the Muzan within me, who has lived for so long, has grown weary of Kokushibo's love of Go, after all.

"If you've had your fun, now come inside."

"Just a moment..."

When I placed my hand on Kokushibo's face, with a gurgling gurgle, he vanished.

"What a pity... I would have liked to play with Hakuji a bit longer..."

"Would you mind stopping now?"

"I thought I was going to die, sir."

Hakuji shakes me, grabbing at my lapel.

Good grief—how much did he swing me around to end up in this state?

Then he looked at Gyutaro and Ume and spoke.

"But who are these two?"

"They'll be part of our household from now on."

At my words, Hakuji quietly looked at them and nodded in assent.

Gyutaro frowned, as if displeased by my remark.

Then the inner room's doors slid open and three women emerged.

"Ah, you're here, young master."

"Lord Michikatsu, you're here?"

"Ah, Mr. Michikatsu. Today I've prepared this new medicine for you."

Uzui Ei, Amano Ruka, and Tamayo.

Then...

Grrr — the sound of teeth grinding rang out.

"Hakuji, don't grind your teeth, that's a terrible habit."

"What are you talking about? It wasn't me, sir."

Hakuji protested, denying it.

Well, he never had that habit before.

Then who...

My gaze settled on one spot as I looked around.

The source of the gnashing sound was...

"Yooooou..."

It was Gyutaro.

"Brother...?"

Ume also, seeing Gyutaro's expression, broke into a cold sweat and edged away.

"You had three wives?!?"

Huh?

Once more, a scythe sprouted from Gyutaro's hand, and blood began to bubble and seethe around the blade.

"Stop fooling around!! Grrr?! I won't forgive youuuu!!"

And with that, Gyutaro lunged at us.

What the hell is this bastard going on about all of a sudden?!

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