As he considered this, his gaze turned once more toward the depths of the factory building.
Toward the crimson Mugen Train, which resembled a sleeping behemoth beneath the pallid searchlights.
According to the original plot, Lower Rank One, Enmu, had fused with this train, and his core weakness, his neck, should have been in the locomotive...
Without the slightest hesitation.
Clang-!
A clear ring of steel pierced the night sky. The Nichirin Blade at Kirishima Bupai's waist flashed out of its sheath, its blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
He used no elaborate sword technique. He merely turned his wrist and casually swung once at the enormous locomotive.
Swish-!
An intensely concentrated streak of silver flashed and vanished.
Boom!!!
The incredibly sturdy steel locomotive split cleanly down the middle without the slightest resistance.
The cut was smooth as a mirror. Like rotten wood split by a giant axe, the massive metal structure crashed down to either side.
Yet...
The anticipated savage howls of a demon, writhing flesh, and twisted, proliferating bones...
None of them appeared...
Inside the severed locomotive, nothing but cold machinery lay exposed.
There was not the slightest trace of a demon's foul stench, nor any abnormal fluctuation of energy.
It was merely a shell of pure steel, violently dismantled.
"Uh..."
Several maintenance workers huddled in a corner opened their mouths as they stared at the locomotive they depended on for their livelihoods, now reduced to scrap metal, their faces full of dismay.
After all, most of the trains had been built by their hands. Seeing one destroyed like this inevitably pained them.
Kirishima Bupai casually twirled his Nichirin Blade and returned it to its sheath.
He smoothed the hair over his forehead that the night breeze had tousled, looking utterly unconcerned.
"It's only a train." His tone