Blood-Red Spreads

Kurozawa moved quickly. In just a few breaths, he arrived at the restroom in the sleeper car.

Directly beneath where the strange noise had come from was this place.

The restroom's indicator showed that it was occupied. Kurozawa did not barge in immediately, instead knocking on the door first. "Is anyone in there?"

Kurozawa received no response. It was late, and most of the passengers on the train had fallen asleep, leaving the carriage silent.

Thud! Amid the dull sound, Kurozawa reached out and gently pushed.

His movements were light, and the sound was a muted low noise rather than anything piercing. Combined with the fact that so many people were asleep, it did not draw anyone's attention.

The instant he pushed the door, the lock shattered. With a creak, Kurozawa opened the door, revealing the entire restroom interior. There was no one inside, only a glaring smear of crimson blood on the wall beside it.

At the same time, howling wind rushed in, battering fiercely against Kurozawa's face.

When he looked up, he saw an irregular hole over a meter wide torn through the roof above the restroom.

The area around the hole was covered in corrosion marks, with white smoke still hissing from it.

Through the hole, he could see the silent cool moon in the sky, along with the stars guarding it.

"That girl headed toward the restroom just now."

At that thought, Kurozawa's expression darkened.

He bent his legs and leaped upward, jumping out through the hole in the roof.

Whoosh. A fierce wind rushed at his face as the scenery around him sped backward.

The roof of a high-speed train was nothing like the stability inside the carriage. Exposed to the outside, it came with intense vibrations and swaying. An ordinary person would probably only be able to lie flat here.

The ground flashed past below in blurred afterimages. Falling from here meant death.

Kurozawa took a deep breath, drawing in a stream of breath like white silk as the gale poured into his lungs.

The Breathing Technique's output instantly rose to its maximum.

His feet stood firmly planted, unaffected by the speeding train, as his eyes fixed on the figure ahead.

It was a female demon with dark-red skin covered in blue-black patterns.

Her features were exquisite. If not for her dark-red skin and blue-black Demon Marks, she looked entirely human.

The female demon was completely naked. Her equally dark-red hair fell to her waist, covering the vital parts of her body.

Beside her was a mangled lump of rotten flesh, corroded beyond recognition.

The female demon was eating it with relish, stuffing the flesh into her mouth as though she were eating ice cream.

When she saw Kurozawa, she stuck out her tongue and licked the scraps from her hand, giving him a provocative glance.

"A Demon Hunter Swordsman? You people really are everywhere, haunting us like ghosts."

"Still, your flesh is far more refined and delicious than that of ordinary humans!"

Kurozawa glanced at the remains of flesh beside the female demon and said nothing.

Boom! The roof of the train jolted violently, startling the sleeping passengers below.

When they looked up, they saw dents like footprints extending toward the front in an instant.

Amid the howling gale, Kurozawa charged in like a rampaging dragon.

His explosive speed and agile, powerful presence made the female demon's expression change. Realizing that she had encountered a powerful swordsman, she immediately tried to jump off the train and flee.

"Die!"

The Nichirin Blade shot out, grazing past the female demon's neck before stabbing into the roof with a crack.

Inside the carriage, a bored passenger who had been staring up at the ceiling was so shocked by the sudden appearance of half a blade that his heart nearly stopped.

Forced to spend time dodging the Nichirin Blade's sudden attack, the female demon's movement was interrupted for an instant.

And in that instant, Kurozawa crossed more than ten meters, throwing a midair punch at the female demon's head like a cannonball.

A layer of Pitch-Black Aura burned around his fist, radiating an ominous, despairing presence.

"What is this?!"

The female demon was startled by the emergence of the Pitch-Black Aura and the sense of danger welling up within her.

Blood Demon Art: Decay: Manjushage!

The female demon's red hair suddenly mutated, blooming with vivid blood-red flowers interwoven throughout it.

Their shape was eighty or ninety percent similar to the legendary Spider Lily.

The blood-red flowers detached from her hair, piercing the air as they blanketed Kurozawa.

Wherever they passed, hissing sounds rang out.

Remembering the hole covered in corrosion marks, Kurozawa did not dare let down his guard.

The Pitch-Black Aura surged fiercely, extending from his palms to shield both arms completely, though it became thinner and more translucent.

Kurozawa did not slow down. His figure remained as swift as a gale.

He swung his arms, making close-range contact with the incoming blood-red flowers.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle. One blood-red flower after another slammed into Kurozawa's arms, producing a continuous sizzling sound.

White smoke rose, almost completely enveloping Kurozawa.

The next second, the smoke was blasted apart. Kurozawa emerged from it completely unscathed, the Pitch-Black Aura once more gathering around both hands.

The female demon's pupils contracted as she tilted her head aside, narrowly avoiding Kurozawa's right fist.

The Pitch-Black Aura burning on his right fist brushed her cheek, and waves of despair and helplessness crashed into her heart.

"Is this man... human or demon?"

The instant the question arose, the female demon spat out a mouthful of blood, her body lifting uncontrollably into the air.

Kurozawa's left fist had struck her squarely in the abdomen, sending her flying five or six meters into the air with a single punch.

Her limbs hung downward while her back arched upward. Her abdomen was wracked by agonizing pain—pain so real and intense that it felt as though her soul had been struck directly.

Overwhelmed by this unprecedented agony, she blanked out for a moment. Her mind was filled with nothing but pain, leaving her unable to think at all.

The negative effects carried by the Pitch-Black Aura worked exceptionally well against those with weak mental resolve.

"I just wanted to take a nice train ride!"

Kurozawa leaped up, rising higher than the female demon, who was still ascending.

He raised his right leg, then brought it down in a savage chop, accompanied by a piercing howl of wind!

Like a battle axe cleaving down, thunder boomed. Amid a dense series of bone-cracking sounds that made one's teeth ache, his heavy kick shattered a large section of the female demon's breastbone and ribs.

Boom! The entire train jolted violently as the female demon's body smashed through the roof and crashed into the carriage.

Everyone in the carriage stared in horror at the female demon's body, her skin blood-red and countless bones broken at unnatural angles, then at Kurozawa as he landed afterward and stood firm.

A human-shaped hole had been punched through the roof. Howling wind poured through it, and many nearby passengers lost their footing and fell flat onto the floor.

The female demon's flesh writhed and her bones creaked as she desperately tried to recover from her injuries.

Because Kurozawa's furious, thunderous punch had allowed the Pitch-Black Aura to invade her abdomen, that injury was healing slowly. However, the areas struck by his heavy kick were recovering rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The moment he landed, Kurozawa threw a punch at the female demon's head. But she had barely snapped out of the agony by then, and looked at him with eyes full of hatred and terror.

Blood Demon Art: Decay: Thousand Blood Threads.

Her long red hair shot outward, avoiding the hand wreathed in Pitch-Black Aura before wrapping around Kurozawa's forearms and waist. It pulled outward, while white smoke rose at the points of contact, sizzling as it corroded his body. His clothing, meanwhile, was corroded through the instant it was touched.

"D-Demon!"

Amid the roaring gale and swirling dust, the passengers were so terrified by the scene before them that they did not know what to do. The atmosphere was deathly silent—until someone shouted first, scrambling away on hands and knees.