As she was leaving, Koume suddenly tugged at Zenitsu gently.
"Zenko, are you happy since you came here?"
Zenitsu didn't understand Koume's meaning at first, until he saw Nezuko giving him a meaningful look, and then he suddenly realized.
"Ah, I'm so happy, especially to meet such a beautiful Oiran, who wouldn't be happy?"
"That's right, Sister Warabihime is the smartest, she's practically inhuman."
With a sweet smile, Koume jumped directly to Warabihime's side and hugged her.
"Sister, shall we go get some snacks later?"
"Okay, Nezuko, do you want to come too?"
"Yes, I'd like to try it too."
And so, Koume, Nezuko, and Warabihime left the room.
After they left, Zenitsu carried the crying girl out.
Recalling the conversation, even more sweat beaded on his forehead.
Koume and Nezuko, who had been here for a while, had much more contact with Warabihime than she had with herself.
Since they all implied that there was something wrong with Warabihime, then the voice he heard must be correct.
Warabihime is not human!
Meanwhile, the Scribe also arrived at the entrance of the Hagimoto House.
"Is it that guy?"
Looking at a figure holding an umbrella not far ahead, his gaze grew even colder.
After exchanging a few words with the person at the door, the figure was respectfully led inside.
He strode forward and, because of what had happened before, entered the room with ease.
Once inside, his eyes darted around, trying to find the person with the umbrella.
At that moment, a voice suddenly rang out from behind him.
"Sir, are you looking for me?"
Looking back, Scribe's eyes widened when he saw the person's face clearly.
Chapter 385 Human or Ghost
The man before them was none other than the young man they had seen at the Wisteria House earlier.
The Scribe clearly remembered that this man was the one who was responsible for bringing over the things that Tengen Uzui needed.
"Why are people from Wisteria House here?"
Scribe stared intently at the man before her, hoping to detect something unusual on his face.
Unfortunately, the man seemed completely unfazed by the Scribe's presence.
"Sir, you've been following me for so long, you must have something to ask me."
"Certainly."
His gaze gradually turned cold, and recalling his previous guesses, Scribe's eyes became increasingly hostile as he looked at the young man.
"What's wrong?"
With a smile still on his face, the young man asked.
"Did I do something wrong to make you feel uncomfortable, sir?"
"I didn't do anything wrong."
With a cold laugh, the Scribe spoke.
"However, I'm curious, what are you doing in the Wisteria House district, someone from Entertainment District?"
"I'm a normal man too, is that not allowed?"
After saying that, the young man seemed to remember something, and his tone suddenly changed.
"Does that mean you're going to meddle in even such matters, sir?"
Without saying a word, the Scribe simply circled the young man, as if observing something.
The young man showed no fear when faced with the scrutiny of the Scribe.
He spread his hands out, appearing extremely natural.
"Sir, if you've seen enough, may I leave?"
"I've finished reading it."
With a hearty laugh, a mysterious smile suddenly appeared on the Scribe's face.
"However, I think you may not be able to leave."
"Oh, how do you say that?"
Just as the young man was wondering why the Scribe would say such a thing, he was met with a fist in response.
"Waaaaah~"
The punch, accompanied by a piercing explosion, hurtled straight towards the youth's head.
A flicker of panic flashed deep in the young man's eyes. He made no secret of the fact that if he were hit, his head would be smashed like a watermelon.
Damn it!
He let out a curse, and the smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a look of resentment.
A red dot appeared right in the center of his brow, and then he threw a punch as well.
In an instant, a large amount of blood gushed from the youth's pores, covering his arm and forming a protective suit.
Blood Demon Art, Crimson Armor!
As the suit was completed, a smug look appeared on the young man's face.
It's clear that he has plenty of confidence in his abilities.
Just when he thought he could block the attack, the Scribe's fist suddenly stopped in mid-air.
Turn fists into feet!
With a sweeping leg kick, the young man was knocked down. The Scribe grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and firmly held his mutated right hand with the other.
I felt like I was being held in a pair of pliers, unable to break free.
"How... how did you find out..."
After realizing he couldn't escape, the young man gave a cold laugh.
"My disguise should be flawless; the Demon Slayer Corps who came here before couldn't detect it at all."
"The disguise was indeed not exposed."
With increasing pressure on his fingers, the Scribe said calmly.
"That's why I'm testing you, isn't it?"
At that moment, the young man instantly understood where he had gone wrong.
You lied to me!
He realized that the Scribe had only pretended to act to test whether his guess was correct.
And yet, he had been so easily fooled, falling into the trap he had set.
"This is the essence of war—all's fair in war."
Although his conjecture had been proven, the Scribe felt no joy whatsoever.
How could the people of Wisteria House suddenly become like this? Logically speaking, this should be completely impossible.
If this young man was disguised as a human from the beginning, how did he manage to move freely during the day?
As if sensing the doubt in the Scribe's mind, the young man gave a cold smile.
"I see. It seems you only have a superficial understanding as well."
"I thought you were so great, but you're only slightly better than those little bugs."
"Let's do it!"
With a loud shout, the young man seemed to be addressing someone.
The next second, Scribe noticed something strange coming from behind him.
His gaze turned cold, and he quickly turned his body around.
To my surprise, the person standing behind me was the proprietress of Hagimoto House!
Contrary to what I'd heard, his face wasn't beaming with smiles.
On the contrary, like the young man she had captured, she also wore a cold smile.
"Although I don't know who you really are, you don't seem like a simple guard."
He licked his lips, then extended a finger.
"Blood Demon Art, Needle!"
A bean-sized amount of blood oozed from the fingertip, then stretched and elongated, becoming a thin needle three or four centimeters long.
"Call out!"
It shot out at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye, striking the Scribe directly in the forehead.
The proprietress in front of me can actually use Blood Demon Art!
"Two ghosts?"
Despite being surprised by the attack, the Scribe remained calm.
Although the opponent's attack was swift, it still seemed too slow to me.
With a tilt of his head, he easily dodged it.
"Puff"
The needle pierced directly into the wall, leaving a small hole.
Looking back, the Scribe saw that the spot where the stab had been made had already begun to rot.
An indescribable, pungent odor also filled the air.
"Poisonous!"
Looking at the landlady's sinister smile not far away, Scribe knew that this needle was not a simple straight-line attack.
"Blood Demon Art, Rotten Bone Crimson Kill!"
With his hands crossed and then a forceful flick, ten needles flew toward the Scribe.
With his eyes darting around, Scribe realized that the opponent's attack was not so simple.
It cleverly blocked almost all of its own dodge positions, leaving only two options.
First, give young people more freedom.
Secondly, they withstood the attack.
'Interesting.
With a slight upturn of her lips, Scribe seemed to have noticed something amusing.
"Since you want me to let go, then I'll grant your wish."
He released the young man with both hands and then dodged the flying needles.
"Run!"
Seeing that the young man had been released, the proprietress called out to him and then prepared to retreat.
But the next moment, a dark figure appeared in front of her.