Chapter 48: ‘Breathing’ Specialized In Killing demon's

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When night falls…

It is the hour when hundreds of ghosts roam freely.

In these hours, monsters emerge—and so do the Ghost Slayers, who fight them to protect humanity.

The cool moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the man sitting cross-legged in the room. Ryuji opened his eyes, a sharpness glinting in his gaze.

He rose, opened the window, and stepped into the courtyard, stretching his limbs and feeling the strength in his body. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

With a light touch, he vaulted over the two- to three-meter courtyard wall, landing silently on the street outside, feeling a surge of excitement. He wasn't out this late without a purpose—he was here to hunt.

During the day, he had detected signs of malicious presence nearby. His path soon led him to a large, luxurious residence.

This was the home of a slave trader who profited from the trafficking of human lives—a business with no innocent parties involved. Ryuji felt no hesitation; there would be no remorse for this kind of evil.

Perhaps due to recent night killings, security had been tightened here. Not only were two guards stationed at the front, but seven or eight servants patrolled inside the estate.

Before, Ryuji might have employed stealth to dispatch these guards. But now, feeling the power coursing through him, he simply walked forward.

"Who goes there?" one of the guards called out sharply as Ryuji approached.

Ryuji didn't pause.

Seeing this, the guards' expressions darkened, but before they could react, a flash of silver caught the moonlight.

In a blink, Ryuji stood behind them. The guards slumped to the ground, thin slashes across their necks spilling blood.

"Ding, congratulations, host. You killed a guard and earned 0.1 attribute points."

"Ding, congratulations, host. You killed a guard and earned 0.1 attribute points."

A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his ears.

Ryuji continued toward the building, dagger in hand.

The servants in the courtyard, seeing him stride forward, assumed he was a guest of their master and didn't intervene. Ryuji ignored them, walking forward in silence.

One servant, however, sensed something amiss.

But before he could shout, Ryuji's hand gripped his dagger, and in a swift motion, he took down three servants with one strike.

The remaining servants, witnessing the carnage, dropped their weapons and fled.

But there was no escaping him.

Within moments, he closed the distance, dispatching each one with swift, precise strikes.

"Ding, congratulations, host. You killed a servant and earned 0.1 attribute points."

"Ding, congratulations, host. You killed a servant and earned 0.1 attribute points."

The mechanical voice continued in his ears.

Before he realized it, the courtyard was awash in blood, the metallic scent filling the night air.

Ryuji gazed at the fallen bodies with calm indifference and made his way toward the main room.

Inside, the slave trader, sensing danger, had barricaded his door.

Ryuji tested it. He could feel resistance—furniture pushed up against it.

"Pathetic," he muttered, then gave a powerful kick.

The door splintered, crashing open to reveal the trembling figure of the slave trader, his clothes hastily thrown on.

"Please, please don't kill me! I have money—lots of it!" the man cried, kneeling and begging.

Ryuji ignored him, stepping forward. Desperation flickered in the slave trader's eyes as he reached for a gun hidden behind him.

But before he could pull the trigger, Ryuji's dagger struck.

The man's movements stilled as he collapsed, the weapon slipping from his grip, his eyes full of disbelief.

"Ding, congratulations, host. You killed a human and earned 0.1 attribute points."

The familiar voice chimed again as the man took his last breath.

After a brief search of the room, Ryuji pocketed some money and left.

But the night was still young, and he wasn't ready to stop yet. There were more vile souls out there—more attribute points to gain.

As he strolled down another street, he suddenly halted.

A strange sensation washed over him, a feeling of being watched.

His muscles tensed, eyes scanning the area around him with caution.

Under the dim moonlight, the world seemed silent and still. Beyond his own breathing, there was no sound.

"Is someone there?"

Certainly! Here's an edited version with corrected grammar, improved dialogue flow, and updated names:

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Ryuji frowned, shaking his sleeve slightly as a dagger slipped from within and landed firmly in his hand.

At his current level, his senses were attuned to the slightest change in his surroundings. This feeling was no mere illusion.

In that instant, a faint sound broke through the silence.

Without hesitation, Ryuji turned sideways, dagger in hand, stabbing backward.

A swift strike passed mere inches from his forehead, and his own attack missed its mark as well. Ryuji flipped backward, retreating swiftly, but his opponent advanced, palms striking in rapid succession, each blow forcing him to parry or dodge.

Ryuji moved his dagger left and right, narrowly blocking the oncoming attacks. Finally, his opponent's skill proved superior; a well-placed strike landed on Ryuji's wrist, forcing him to drop his dagger.

Just as Ryuji reached for the gun at his waist, the attacker suddenly halted and stepped back.

"Amitabha."

A low, resonant voice chanted.

Ryuji looked up and finally saw his opponent clearly.

A towering, muscular monk stood before him, a long scar stretching across his forehead. Dressed in a brown cassock emblazoned with the words "Namo Amitabha," he held his hands together in prayer. This was no ordinary monk.

Ryuji's eyes narrowed as he recognized him: Himejima Gyomei, the "Rock Pillar" of the Demon Slayer Corps. Known as the strongest of the Pillars, he stood at the pinnacle of their fighting force.

"Donor," Gyomei intoned, pressing his palms together in another gesture of prayer.

Ryuji remained silent, meeting Gyomei's calm gaze.

"Donor, please refrain from taking innocent lives so freely," Gyomei spoke again, his voice low and measured.

"Innocent?" Ryuji echoed, a cold smile flickering across his face. "None of those I killed were innocent."

"If they have committed wrongs, then the law will judge them," Gyomei replied, his tone unwavering.

Ryuji's expression didn't change. "If I hadn't taken action, more would have suffered at their hands. And for those victims, the law's judgment would have come far too late."

Gyomei closed his eyes slightly, his hands pressed together once more. "To take down the source of evil is one thing, but to slaughter so many accomplices…" He let the words hang in the air.

"Those accomplices are no less guilty," Ryuji responded coldly. While his motive for killing might be his pursuit of power, the reasoning was valid enough.

"Amitabha," Gyomei murmured, letting out a long sigh.

"Let's be honest, Rock Pillar," Ryuji said, his voice edged with challenge. "Your presence here isn't about stopping me, is it?"

"I do have a question for you," Gyomei admitted.

"Then ask it."

"Last night, in the Flower Street district, was it you who killed a demon?" Gyomei asked, his unseeing eyes trained on Ryuji.

Though Gyomei's blind gaze couldn't see him, Ryuji felt an intense pressure settle over him, an unseen force that nearly took his breath away.

"Yes," Ryuji answered evenly.

"And how did you accomplish that?" Gyomei continued, his tone probing. Ordinary weapons couldn't kill demons. Typically, there were only two ways: severing a demon's head with a Nichirin Blade or exposing them to sunlight. The demon slain last night hadn't perished under the sun.

So, it could only have been by a Nichirin Blade—one that Demon Slayers obtained from specialized swordsmiths within the Corps. And if Ryuji wasn't a member, then the blade he used had likely been left behind by a fallen Slayer.

Gyomei's tone softened. "Those blades are property of the Corps, and any that go missing must be recovered."

Ryuji didn't reply. Instead, he bent down and retrieved the dagger he'd been forced to drop.

Gyomei didn't attempt to stop him, observing silently.

Ryuji straightened, glancing at him before closing his eyes and beginning to breathe steadily.

With each breath, a crimson glow began to emanate from the dagger, flickering like firelight.

"This… This is the Hinokami Kagura…" Gyomei murmured, then shook his head, visibly startled.

The technique Ryuji was using wasn't simply a weapon skill. Through an intense mastery of breathing, he had channeled enough energy to heat his weapon to a near-blade, transforming it temporarily into a Nichirin equivalent.

The Hinokami Kagura was rare, a method that even most Pillars couldn't master.

Gyomei's eyes widened, realization dawning. Ryuji's breathing technique didn't follow the methods of the Corps. His breathing released energy as intense as sunlight, endowing his weapon with an inherent power against demons.

This was a breathing form specifically meant for slaying demons.

At this moment, Gyomei's calm demeanor slipped, his breath catching as he regarded Ryuji. His formidable presence softened, acknowledging the strength and mystery standing before him.

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