Waiting for Demons to Come to You / The Abilities of the Ubume

But to Shinobu Butterfly, this was exactly the result she wanted.

"Really? I really hope that day comes soon."

"It'll be here soon, very soon."

Scribe stretched out a hand, looking at the pool of hot spring water in his palm, lost in thought.

After soaking in the hot spring, Scribe left, and nothing else happened.

He left the Swordsmith Village early the next morning.

As for Shinobu Butterfly, she remained in the village because they had not yet found a swordsmith to adjust her Nichirin Blade.

After leaving the Swordsmith Village, the Scribe continued his journey in search of the Ubume.

Finally, one morning, he arrived at a village.

He had heard about this town from the previous town he had lived in.

Similar to the situation experienced by the Ubume in the original work, there is also a daughter who is bullied by her husband, but still persists in caring for her children.

Even more remarkably, just like in the original story, this daughter was buried by her own mother after her death.

The only difference is that there have been no reports of anyone going missing in the vicinity.

After arriving at the village, the Scribe made a simple assessment and realized that this should be the place he was looking for.

After asking some elderly people in the village, he confirmed the location of the mansion.

Following a small path, the Scribe arrived at the abandoned mansion that had long been forgotten by the villagers.

As soon as he entered the mansion, the Scribe suddenly paused.

Looking back, an old man suddenly appeared behind him.

"Young man, what brings you here?"

At first, the Scribe was startled, not expecting an old man to appear here.

But thinking back, there was a Scribe in the original work when Sanemi Shinazugawa and Kuronose Chikan came.

With a slight smile, the Scribe walked up to the old man.

"I am a paranormal enthusiast. I heard about a legend here, so I wanted to come and see for myself."

The Scribe's words were flawless.

Chapter 151 Waiting for a Ghost to Fall into a Trap

At the entrance is a classic Japanese-style entryway.

The dust on the ground showed no footprints, no signs that anyone had entered.

Not only that, but there wasn't a single sound coming from inside the door, as if all sound had been blocked out.

The only connection was that the wonderful fragrance became even stronger once you went inside.

It was so strong that it was almost nauseating.

With a cold look in his eyes, the Scribe then went inside.

Step by step, he left footprints on the floor.

"Moshi moshi, is anyone home?"

As they walked, Scribe suddenly put his hand to his mouth, making a shouting motion.

There was no answer in the silent room, only faint echoes and dust stirred up by the sound waves.

The Scribe drew his Nichirin Blade, placed the tip on the ground, and walked with the sword in his hand.

The sharp blade easily sliced through the floor, leaving a long mark.

Before long, the Scribe walked into the main living room.

The main living room contains only a sofa and a few tables and chairs.

All of these pieces of furniture were covered with a layer of black cloth.

Occasionally, the Scribe could see faint red marks on the black cloth.

Based on his experience, he clearly determined that it was left behind after human blood had dried up.

The red marks seem to tell visitors what happened here.

However, the Scribe found no sign of ghosts here.

Whether it's the furniture covered in black cloth or the dusty ceiling and floor, everything exudes a sense of desolation and death.

This is not where the Ubume) lives.

After hesitating for a moment, the Scribe touched his chin with one hand, as if he was thinking about something.

His other hand rhythmically tapped on a table, the thumping sound echoing throughout the house.

Finally, the Scribe took another step.

Bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and even storage room.

It took the Scribe a long time to walk through every corner of the room.

However, he never found any trace of the ghost.

It was as if his judgment was wrong.

Despite this, there was no sign of discouragement on his face.

With his eyes slightly narrowed, Scribe pondered the various aspects of Sanemi Shinazugawa and Kuronose Chikan here in the original work.

He recalled that the Ubume) did not actually hunt in the real world.

Instead, it took place in a hidden, unknown "dark room" that she had concealed.

To enter that room, it seems that either the Ubume will activate it on its own, or a certain medium is required.

However, the so-called medium was not found here by the Scribe.

Either the Ubume hid it, or the thing isn't here at all.

Thinking of this, a mysterious smile appeared on his lips.

He took a deep breath, then slammed his foot on the table next to him.

"Damn it, this is so annoying! Didn't they say there were ghosts here?!"

With an impatient expression on his face, Scribe sneered and then spat on the ground.

Hetui!

After spitting out a spittle, Scribe stomped his foot on the floor, seemingly agitated with anger.

He then sheathed his Nichirin Blade and walked outside.

He muttered curses as he walked.

"What a waste of time, I'm never coming back!"

After saying that, he walked outside and disappeared into the courtyard.

Inside, dust still covered the floor, with only the areas where the Scribe had passed appearing somewhat messy.

Outside, the Mandala Flower were still in full bloom, their blood-red color bringing an unusual beauty to the yard.

And so time passed slowly, without any change occurring within the mansion.

The sun rises, and sunlight shines into the yard in front of the house.

The Mandala Flower had all withered and returned to the soil.

The room, where no sunlight reached, remained deathly silent.

As the sun sets, it once again disappears below the horizon.

The Mandala Flower has grown from the soil again, blooming with its own unique beauty.

Inside the mansion, however, there was still no change whatsoever.

This situation lasted for three days.

Whether it's sunrise or sunset, the only thing that changes is the blooming and withering of the Mandala Flower.

There wasn't a ghost in the house, not even the sound of insects.

It's as if there really are no ghosts here.

The Scribe seemed to have completely left the place, and did not appear for three days in First Form.

The old man who had told him the story before had also come here before, but he only stood in the courtyard and glanced at it a few times.

When he discovered that the Scribe had ignored his advice and opened the door, a look of fear appeared on his face.

Even so, he still went up and closed the door.

It was already the evening of the fourth day.

The moon rose high once more, and the Mandala Flower bloomed once more.

This time, something unusual happened in the yard in front of the house.

Besides the red glow of the Mandala Flower, a faint blue light also emanated from the well in the courtyard.

As time goes by, blue light consumption is decreasing.

At midnight, the blue light grew to a level comparable to the countless Mandala Flower in the yard.

Immediately afterwards, whispers began to circulate in the courtyard.

"Hehe, hehehe, the Demon Slayer is so easy to fool, he left so easily."

The voice was shrill; you could tell it was a woman's voice just by listening to it.

As the woman's voice rang out, the blue light in the well began to rise.

Finally, a mirror slowly emerged from the well.

This is a very antique mirror, and the back of the mirror has lost most of its color due to long-term friction.

On the front of the mirror, there were a few faint bloodstains.

When the mirror completely flew out of the mirror, it flew towards the main entrance.

As the mirror approached, an invisible force also affected the tightly closed door.

As if an invisible hand was pushing, the door that the old man had closed opened once again.

The mirror, suspended in mid-air, floated into the room.

Eventually, the mirror floated into the main living room.

A faint blue light appeared and then shone onto the floor.

With a cracking sound, the floorboards exposed to the light began to crack inch by inch.

From the broken wooden planks, a small incense burner slowly flew out.

An unexpected flame ignited the incense burner, and the same fragrance returned to the air.

Under the blue light, the incense burner slowly flew to a table and landed steadily there.

The mirror flew in front of the incense burner, completely blocking it.

Just as the mirror landed in front of the incense burner, the voice of the Scribe suddenly rang out in the previously silent room.

"Gotcha!"

Chapter 152 The Abilities of the Ubume

As the Scribe's voice rang out, a figure jumped down from the beam and landed directly in front of the table where the incense burner was located.

It was none other than the Scribe who had been missing for three days!

At this moment, his face no longer held the anger and dissatisfaction he had shown when he left; only a sneer of triumph remained.

Upon discovering that the Scribe was there, a woman's scream suddenly came from the mirror that had just fallen.