The rails shook violently beneath his feet.
Yaha's thumb rested against the guard of his Nichirin Blade, its pitch-black edge already pushed half an inch from the sheath.
The unreflective blade devoured the moonlight, making even the air howling around him feel thick and oppressive.
Thirty kilometers away, Akaza's savage fighting spirit swept toward him like a tangible tsunami.
Two utterly different auras collided across the long stretch of track.
A strange layer of white frost instantly formed on the rails, accompanied by fine, piercing cracks.
Yaha stared at the dark-red point of light hurtling toward him from the edge of the night, watching silently for two seconds.
Then an undisguised scoff escaped his throat.
With a casual push of his thumb, the half inch of black blade slipped back into its sheath.
The night wind instantly swept away the crisp metallic click.
Drawing my blade now would give that crawling insect far too much credit.
At the edge of his vision, a translucent System Panel suddenly appeared, blazing with glaring red light.
[Ding! Extremely high-purity Upper Rank-level demon blood detected.] [The target contains potent power of the laws and can be devoured and absorbed by the host as a "Sukuna's Finger equivalent" to strengthen the current physical vessel!]
Yaha lowered his eyelids slightly, his gaze sweeping indifferently over the blood-red lettering.
At that very instant, the ring finger of his right hand twitched uncontrollably.
A fine, sharp pain spread deep through his tendons, as though invisible needles had pierced them, while a faint burning sensation seeped between his bones.
Yaha's gaze shifted slightly.
Human flesh was ultimately too fragile. The enormous strain of deploying [Malevolent Shrine] for the first time had made this vessel issue a faint warning of overload.
He casually kneaded his spasming finger, its joints cracking as he forcibly suppressed the discomfort.
Use that martial arts fanatic's essence to rebuild this broken shell before it gives out.
Quite a worthwhile trade.
Yaha released his hand and looked down at the sheet metal beneath his feet.
From beneath the metal partition came the sound of wildly disordered blood pulsing.
Inside the train, the hypnotic Cursed Technique Enmu had painstakingly woven over several months was facing total collapse.
The reason was simple: the single casual step Yaha had taken when he landed on the roof.
A trace of residual cursed energy had punched straight through three layers of iron plate, crushing Enmu's prized Dream Barrier to pieces at its foundation.
It was like a house of cards built from matchsticks taking a hammer blow head-on.
Inside a hidden compartment in the first carriage.
Enmu huddled tightly in the cramped space between the panels like a rat in a gutter.
Sweat ran down his pale cheeks and struck the iron plate.
His hands trembled uncontrollably, all ten nails digging into the flesh of his knees, his knuckles a ghastly white.
The presence of that thing on the roof was too terrifying.
It was even more suffocating than Lord Muzan's pressure when he was enraged.
That wasn't a demon, much less a human. It was some kind of monster that stood completely above this world's rules, the embodiment of pure death.
Enmu's teeth chattered violently, his jaws knocking together with tiny clicks.
He did not even have the courage to poke his head out and check.
That monster up there wouldn't even need to draw his blade. One thought, and I'd become a heap of mangled flesh that could never be put back together. I'd die for certain!
The terror that even his soul would be sliced apart coiled around his neck like a venomous snake.
No... I can't die here yet!
Lord Muzan gave me more blood. I haven't finished enjoying this wonderful power!
In his desperation, overwhelming terror finally twisted into hysterical madness.
Enmu bit savagely into the tip of his tongue. Warm demon blood flooded his throat as he used the agonizing pain to suppress the trembling ingrained in his very genes.
If I can't escape, I'll just have to take everyone down with me!
He violently tore open the clothing over his chest, exposing the fiercely pulsing demon core beneath his flesh.
He slammed both hands against the cold metal floor, wringing out the Muzan's blood remaining in his body regardless of the cost.
Thick blood vessels burst from his palms and drove into the steel like twisted tree roots.
Dark-red patterns spread rapidly across the iron plates, frantically corroding every inch of the train's metal skeleton.
He would fuse himself completely with this steel behemoth weighing hundreds of tons.
The two hundred sleeping passengers aboard would be his final human shields.
As long as I turn the entire train into my body, that monster on the roof won't be able to kill me without harming the civilians!
It was the last gamble a weakling could devise in a hopeless situation.
Standing on the roof, Yaha felt the rapid temperature changes and heard the sounds of mutation beneath his feet, a trace of mockery entering his eyes.
The rat hiding below was getting desperate.
He had no intention of intervening.
Sukuna's instincts told him that this insect who toyed with dreams could cause no real trouble.
Leaving him to stir things up, on the other hand, would make him a perfect whetstone for those brats below who knew nothing but swinging swords.
The System Panel promptly displayed a new notification:
[Watching the weak struggle aligns with the nature of absolute evil. Roleplay level +0.5%.]
"Breeding venomous creatures to see which survives, huh."
Yaha gave a cold snort.
He listened to the metal tearing beneath his feet, his gaze seeming to pierce through the thick roof.
Inside the five carriages.
As the hypnotic fluctuations collapsed completely, the lingering dreams began to fade.
In the third carriage, Tanjiro clung fiercely to the sense that something was wrong within his false dream.
Without the slightest hesitation, he laid his Nichirin Blade against his neck and pulled hard!
The agony of the blade cutting through his carotid artery felt utterly real.
At almost the same instant, pale-pink Blood Demon Art flames ignited on Nezuko's fingertips inside the wooden box.
Their glow passed through the wooden boards, precisely burning through the dream threads wrapped around Tanjiro's wrist in reality.
Tanjiro's eyes snapped open.
His pupils dilated to their limit as he gulped air into his lungs, cold sweat soaking his entire uniform.
Meanwhile, in the first carriage.
Kyojuro Rengoku still sat firmly in his window seat with his eyes closed.
His body was completely relaxed, his breathing slow and even, as though he sensed nothing around him.
A dark-red nightmare tentacle covered in slime crept soundlessly up the back of his seat.
The slit at its tip opened as it slowly stabbed toward Rengoku's unprotected nape.
Three inches. Two inches. One inch.
The instant before the tentacle pierced his skin, Rengoku's arms moved.
Without any warning contraction of his muscles, both arms sprang from his knees faster than ordinary eyes could follow.
His arms crossed behind his head, his fingers like steel-reinforced clamps as they locked around the ambushing tentacle.
Squelch!
The fleshy tissue made a wet, muffled sound as he crushed it in his grip.
Rengoku's eyes remained closed, and even the rhythm of his breathing did not falter.
This was a Hashira-level body forged through thirteen years of mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Even with his consciousness asleep, his instincts could still destroy every threat before it took root.
In a carriage farther back.
Tanjiro rolled from his seat onto the floor, drew his Nichirin Blade, and severed a fleshy tendril trying to burrow into Zenitsu's ear.
"Zenitsu! Inosuke! Wake up! A demon has taken over the carriage!"
Tanjiro shouted as he moved to shield the two of them.
"Shut up, Monjiro! I've been awake for ages!"
Inosuke had torn free of the dream with his beastlike instincts and was now cursing as he ripped the sticky threads from his mask.
He drew his twin serrated swords, two heavy streams of white breath blasting from his boar nostrils, and kicked the mutating seat beside him to pieces.
Zenitsu stood between them, his eyes still tightly shut.
A snot bubble hung on his cheek, but the thumb of his right hand, which gripped his Nichirin Blade, was already pressed firmly against its guard.
A low, restrained rumble of thunder rose from his throat.
Before them, the carriage's inner metal walls were undergoing a nauseating transformation.
Dark-red tumors burst through the sheet metal, blood vessels snaked over the wooden seats, and foul-smelling slime ran down the windowpanes.
The entire carriage seemed to come alive, becoming the digestive tract of a gigantic monster.
A fierce battle erupted in an instant.
On the roof.
Listening to the metal breaking and the boys roaring below, Yaha gave a bored yawn.
Just then, the System Panel at the edge of his vision flashed red again.
[Unlock condition for "Open (Flame Arrow)" clarified.] [Condition: With absolute destructive power, burn straight through the martial creed the target takes such pride in, utterly destroying it head-on!]
After reading that line, Yaha slowly raised his head.
On the eastern horizon, a dazzling streak of dark-red fire tore through the night, hurtling forward with shrill sonic booms.
It was the trail of light produced by the violent friction between highly concentrated demon blood and the air as Akaza pushed his body to its limits.
His speed was staggering.
Twenty kilometers.
Ten kilometers.
Yaha straightened, the night wind whipping his black haori.
The scent of his prey was already close at hand.
He watched that savage blaze draw nearer and nearer, a chilling brutality welling up in the depths of his pitch-black eyes.
"Looks like I'll need to borrow a more overpowering flame."
"To burn away that martial arts fanatic's pathetic pride."
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