As someone who had crossed into another world and spent so long struggling on the brink of death, Rokuya had absolute confidence in his control over his emotions. He truly had held no killing intent in that last strike, and Tanjiro's persistence really had brought an unexpected trace of calm to his heart.
But he had never imagined that such purely mental activity could actually be "smelled."
"Are you saying you can smell other people's emotions?" Rokuya took a step forward, and his oppressive presence instantly surged toward Tanjiro like a tide.
The pressure forced Tanjiro half a step back, but he gritted his teeth, straightened his back, and nodded earnestly. "Yes, Mr. Rokuya. My nose has been sensitive since I was little. I can smell not only the trails of animals in the mountains, but also the emotions of people around me. For example... when someone is angry, they smell like burnt wood; when they're sad, they smell like earth on a rainy day... And just now, your scent was like... like a bottomless lake. There were some ripples, but overall, it was very calm."
Rokuya said nothing. He simply watched Tanjiro quietly, his mind racing.
A mutation in his sense of smell? Or some kind of bloodline awakening? Rokuya pondered. He recalled the difficult days when he had first crossed into this world. Back then, to survive and accumulate those damned Gratitude Points, he had been forced to puzzle over the thoughts of the people he saved, trying to distinguish genuine gratitude from empty pretense.
How many times had his inability to read other people's emotions put him at a disadvantage, or even in danger? How many detours could he have avoided with a "human lie detector" like Tanjiro at his side?
"Interesting." Rokuya's lips suddenly curved into