As she watched Tanjuro slowly straighten up before her and steadily raise the battle axe half his height.
Nakime was momentarily bewildered.
She could not figure out just who he was.
If he was a Demon Slayer Corps swordsman here to slay her...
Not only was he not carrying a samurai sword, he was not wearing the Demon Slayer Corps' standard black uniform either.
But if he was another demon here to provoke her.
His scent was not quite right.
Having spent so long in Infinity Castle, she rarely saw living people, let alone the Demon Slayer Corps.
Even when she occasionally went out to eat someone or give a performance.
The bustling commercial districts she frequented had little overlap with the Demon Slayer Corps' activities.
So the last time she had seen a Demon Slayer Corps swordsman was several years ago.
That left her unable to immediately determine whether Tanjuro was an ordinary martial artist or a member of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Yet the Charcoal Seller did not attack immediately either.
Instead, he spoke to her in a calm voice.
"You... I suppose I shall call you a lady."
"Could I ask you to spare that elderly woman?"
As he spoke.
The power of Sun Breathing began circulating continuously through his body.
"After all, she did go to the trouble of playing the biwa for you all night."
Nakime raised her head slightly.
The single eye beneath the gaps in her long black hair fixed on Tanjuro.
"And if I refuse?"
Tanjuro answered her with a helpless sigh.
"You have eaten so many people that you can barely suppress the smell of blood on you."
"As I thought, you cannot be reasoned with."
It was also because she had ruined the anniversary celebration his wife had gone to