Chapter 6: Poor Guy.

Chapter 6: Poor Guy.

The night sky after the snow became extremely clean.

It was as if you could see the depths of the night sky at a glance, and the stars were twinkling.

The moon hung alone in the high sky, emitting a faint light to the surroundings.

Kamado's house.

Outside the wooden house.

"Cough! Cough cough!!"

A violent cough came.

Kamado Tanjuro sat in the snow in front of the door, covering his mouth, unable to stop coughing.

After calming his breath, he slowly released his hand covering his mouth.

Plop...plop...

Bright red blood flowed from between his fingers, staining the white snow under him.

- After sitting in the snow for a long time, his weak body could hardly hold on.

"Haha..."

Kamado Tanjuro stared at his blood-stained hand, took a few deep breaths, then raised his head as if relieved, and smiled.

He stood up, looked around, and there was no sound in the dark dense forest.

The family has been safely evacuated, and now only he is left here.

There are no more worries.

Tanjuro usually maintains a calm and indifferent thinking.

The him of the past, who mastered the transparent world, saw through all the laws of the world, that was a kind of return to simplicity.

It is the same now.

It's just that after living in the world of Sekiro for more than thirty years, Tanjuro may be a bit more "transparent".

After being "transparent" too much, to be honest, Tanjuro felt a bit tired.

Crack...

Tanjuro patted the snow on his body, smiled, and slowly took out the glowing red Kusabimaru from the gradually extinguishing charcoal kiln.

The glow of the red-hot sword even slightly illuminated the snow next to Tanjuro, reflecting the white snow red.

Looking down at the glowing red sword, Kamado Tanjuro nodded satisfactorily.

Then.

Click!

He casually inserted the red-hot sword back into the scabbard.

.....Don't worry, compared to the various attacks suffered in the world of Sekiro.

.....Bearing a little high temperature is nothing to the Kusabimaru and the scabbard.

He died so many times, but the Kusabimaru has never broken once.

"Hoo..." After taking a deep breath.

Kamado Tanjuro looked back at the direction of the mountain, he knew very well in his heart.

This time he stayed, there are only two results for him.

One, he lives.

Two, he dies.

He is more inclined to the second possibility, in fact, he thinks so himself.

As long as Kibutsuji Muzan sees through a little of his lies.

In just a few seconds, he might have been crushed to ashes.

After that, Muzan will not go to find his family for revenge or something - after all, they have separated.

"...I am a person who should die."

Kamado Tanjuro turned around, faced his house, and looked at the appearance of the house inch by inch.

As if to engrave this house in his mind.

He talked to himself.

"I hope my death can be of some value." Tanjuro shrugged, his dark red eyes calm as an ancient well.

— Don't come back to life again.

Click.

Kamado Tanjuro pushed open his own door, and as he stepped over the threshold, he murmured in his heart:

I'm sorry, Kie.

Let me be selfish this time.

After mentally preparing for a desperate fight,

Kamado Tanjuro will go all out to intercept Muzan.

At the same time, by letting Kie send a message to Urokodaki Sakonji, perhaps someone will arrive after dawn to investigate Muzan's whereabouts.

As for himself, he will try to leave some valuable clues.

He will face his own death calmly.

The warning flashing constantly in his heart turned into a bright red "danger" character above his head.

Creak... creak...

Kamado Tanjuro came back to his senses and slowly walked into the dark room.

With his back to the door, he forcefully closed the wooden door with the back of his hand.

Just before the door was completely closed.

The "danger" character flashing rapidly above Kamado Tanjuro's head — suddenly stopped flashing.

Instead, it appeared there fixedly.

Tanjuro's face, hidden in the darkness, was expressionless.

Shadows shrouded his eyes.

— I will bet my life to kill you.

— Kibutsuji Muzan.

Bang!

The wooden door was completely closed.

The world outside the door was silent.

This night, all was quiet.

...

...

At the same time.

On the foot of the mountain.

"Hmm hmm hmm~"

Kibutsuji Muzan, dressed in a black small suit and slim white trousers, was humming a tune with a pleasant expression, his morbidly white skin blending well with the snowy environment.

His plum-red pupils were even deeper under the shadow of the top hat, his gaze constantly sweeping over the footprints on the ground:

"...Humans?"

His gaze followed the footprints, all the way to —

— A small house at the foot of the mountain that had already turned off the lights.

A set of footprints that were supposed to go up the mountain suddenly turned a corner and went straight into the house.

Muzan's red pupils full of blood vessels stared at the house for a while, then moved his gaze away and continued to walk towards the mountain top.

Boring.

There were only two people in the house.

A decaying old man who smelled so bad that it made Muzan want to pinch his nose and leave.

The smell of decay reminded him of death...

Death.

Just as Muzan took a step, his pupils contracted slightly, the veins on his forehead slowly bulged, and finally covered his face fiercely.

— Disgusting things.

But, the soon-to-be perfect creature that he is, will absolutely not die.

Muzan firmly believed.

His experiments along the way were also to see if there was a possibility of finding an evolutionary path to immunity to sunlight from other newly born demons.

If there is, just eat that demon.

By then.

He can walk under the sun openly!

He no longer need to hide, live a twisted life in the dark, watching creatures weaker than himself walk freely.

Freedom!

By then!

Even if that detestable guy.

A decaying guy!

Turn into bones! Crawl out of the coffin, it's nothing to fear!

That guy!

In Muzan's mind, the image of the red swordsman looking down at him from a high place hundreds of years ago emerged.

That embarrassing appearance was his only one in a thousand years!

Every time he thought of that guy's appearance and tone, Muzan couldn't help but hate.

The anger to the extreme burst out from his chest in an instant, he stood on the spot, his pupils erected, trembling rapidly in small amplitude.

His morbidly white skin turned red, and the veins in his neck bulged densely.

Tsugikuni! Yoriichi!

Muzan stood in the snow, his body trembling with anger.

I really wish I had met you after that!

Muzan thought bitterly.

Once he overcame the sunlight, Yoriichi could not do much harm to him.

He could only be tortured to death by him!

He wanted to torture him over and over again!

Thinking of this.

And then thinking that the one who is about to die is not himself, but that poor guy who exudes a decaying smell.

Muzan's mood suddenly became cheerful again.

His red pupils looked back at the top of the mountain.

His gaze slightly turned to the back, the direction of the house.

"Poor guy." He said in a low voice, talking to himself, gradually leaving the foot of the mountain.