“Hajime, we have some urgent matters to attend to and need to leave the compound.
We might be back quite late.”
Tamayo walked back over and bowed slightly as she spoke.
“Leave?
To do what?”
He had barely finished speaking when he realized his sharp tone sounded exactly like an interrogation.
He quickly softened his voice.
“If it’s inconvenient to share, then never mind.”
Tamayo hesitated, clearly debating whether to involve the swordsman.
Finally, she decided there was no logical reason to hide it.
“We have completely run out of our stored blood.” She offered a tired glance.
“Actually, we had planned to purchase our supply a few days ago, it’s just…”
She let the sentence trail off awkwardly.
Hajime understood perfectly.
A few days ago was the exact day he had ambushed them in the alleyway.
If not for his interference, they would have safely bought the blood they needed and avoided this dangerous daytime excursion entirely.
Hajime considered his responsibility and stood up.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You are coming along?” Surprise spread across her elegant face.
“There’s no need to look so surprised.
If we run into rogue demons, I can easily protect you.
If we run into other Demon Slayers, I can protect you just the same.”
“Thank you so much, Hajime.”
Yushiro scowled in extreme displeasure, but his tactical mind knew that having a swordsman of Hajime’s caliber acting as a bodyguard drastically increased their survival odds.
The three left the safety of the hidden mansion.
To avoid drawing civilian attention, Tamayo and Yushiro walked a few paces ahead, while Hajime trailed casually behind them.
If anyone, human or demon, attempted to tail them through the city, the pursuer would be perfectly exposed to Hajime’s line of sight.
They moved from the quiet, affluent neighborhood through the bustling commercial district, eventually arriving at the edge of a sprawling slum.
The main paved road served as a stark dividing line.
One side featured clean brick pavements and beautiful, well-planned architecture.
The other side was a rotting, desperate nightmare.
Low, cramped dwellings crowded together in the mud.
These structures weren’t built with proper lumber, but were hastily piled together from rusted iron and discarded trash.
They were merely shacks.
Unlike the affluent pedestrians walking the main road in fine kimonos or tailored Western suits, the few gaunt people wandering through the slum were caked in filth.
Their faces were completely drained of color and hope.
The people trapped here were desperate for survival cash.
Tamayo always traded strictly for blood with these impoverished residents, ensuring mutual benefit.
The group stopped in front of a particularly decaying shack, and Tamayo knocked gently on the warped door.
“Inukai?
Are you in?”
A long moment passed before the door wrenched open, revealing a severely disheveled man.
His hair was a tangled bird’s nest, and he wore a filthy kimono that reeked of stale alcohol and neglect.
His murky, lifeless eyes instantly snapped to attention the moment he saw Tamayo’s face.
He reached out with greedy excitement, but Yushiro immediately swatted his filthy hand away.
“Do not touch Lady Tamayo!”
Inukai didn’t get angry.
He simply grinned a toothless smile and hurriedly welcomed the strange group inside.
Given his practiced eagerness, this transaction was clearly a routine arrangement.
The interior of the shack was pure chaos.
Rotted garbage piled everywhere, leaving barely any room to step.
Inukai used his bare foot to sweep the debris aside, then sat cross-legged on the stained floorboards.
He vigorously rubbed his forearm against his soiled sleeve to expose a vein.
“Hurry up, hurry up,” he urged feverishly.
Tamayo retrieved her sterile glass equipment and carefully began drawing his blood.
Watching the dark crimson fluid fill the vial, the man grinned with sheer, unhinged anticipation.
In moments, the safe required amount was collected.
Seeing her pack up the vials so quickly, Inukai frowned deeply.
“That’s barely anything!
Draw more!”
Tamayo shook her head in calm resignation.
“No, Inukai.
This specific amount ensures no permanent harm comes to your body.
Drawing any more will severely affect your health.”
“I’m not scared, so why are you?!” The man swung his arm violently, shoving his bruised vein toward her face.
“Come on, take more!
Pay me more!”
No matter how aggressively he begged, Tamayo firmly refused.
Unable to physically force the demon, the man finally gave up with a heavy, bitter scowl.
The thick stack of yen she handed over was more than enough to fund his grim indulgences for another week.
Leaving the shack, they continued visiting other discreet contacts in the slum who were desperate for cash.
Hajime observed closely.
He noticed Tamayo exercised incredibly strict moral limits with every single donor, never taking a physically dangerous amount of blood regardless of how much they begged for extra money.
Once their supply was fully replenished, the group silently departed the slums.
The quiet night sky was adorned with a pale silver moon.
Hajime sat at the steep edge of the mansion’s roof, looking out over the city.
In the distance, the glow of modern electric lightbulbs and traditional paper lanterns intertwined into a warm sea of light.
The relentless march of Meiji modernization rushed forward, pushing the era’s wheel ceaselessly onward.
Yet beneath this beautiful facade of peace and prosperity, ordinary citizens could never imagine that immortal, man-eating monsters lurked just beyond the streetlamps.
His training was yielding rapid results.
The proficiency of the unknown system skill had reached 65%.
It would not take much longer to unlock its true form.
The crisp clatter of wooden sandals against the roof tiles rang out.
Hajime turned toward the access hatch.
Tamayo appeared, wrapped in a dark, elegant kimono.
“It is quite late.
Are you not going to rest?” she asked softly.
“I couldn’t sleep.
I just wanted to come up and take a look,” he replied.
Without a clock, his internal rhythm guessed it wasn’t quite midnight.
In his previous life, he routinely stayed awake staring at screens until three in the morning.
A terrible habit for one’s physical health, of course.
Tamayo approached with quick, deliberate steps.
“May I sit beside you, Hajime?”
“Of course.”
She sat gracefully on the sloped tiles, gazing out at the distant lights.
“Tamayo, your hand…”
“My hand?” Tamayo blinked in surprise.
She pulled back her kimono sleeve, revealing a pale forearm as smooth and flawless as porcelain.
“So it has already healed.
That’s good.”
To help Hajime level the unknown skill, Tamayo had been continuously casting her Blood Demon Art.
Activating the powerful illusions required her to repeatedly slash her own skin down to the bone.
Tamayo looked at him, her dark eyes softening.
“Are you worried about me?”
“Yes.” Hajime admitted without hesitation.
“You know I am a demon, correct?
As long as my neck isn’t severed by a Nichirin blade, or I am not dragged into the sun, my physical injuries will heal flawlessly in seconds.”
“But it still hurts,” he pointed out quietly.
“Even if the flesh knits back together perfectly, the memory of that pain isn’t so easily forgotten.”
His gentle words left Tamayo silent.
A long moment later, she spoke softly into the night breeze.
“Hajime, you are very different from the others.”
He tilted his head.
“Different?”
“Most Demon Slayers would never let a demon go, regardless of any special pacifist circumstances.
Their deep-rooted hatred would never allow it.
But you look at us differently.”
Having lived for centuries, Tamayo had only ever met two other humans who held no blind prejudice against her kind.
One was the legendary creator of Sun Breathing, Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
The other was the current Master of the Demon Slayer Corps, Kagaya Ubuyashiki.
Hajime was the third.
‘Different?’
Hajime didn’t consider himself particularly special.
Other swordsmen hated demons to the bone because the monsters had viciously slaughtered their families.
He could remain impartial because he knew canon, he understood Tamayo and Yushiro were genuinely benevolent.
The other major reason was much simpler: he had never personally lost anyone to a demon.
If he had been born natively in this brutal world, if his own parents and friends had been butchered in the night, he would probably act exactly like his peers.
Slaying every demon on sight.
Eradicating their entire species completely.
Hajime stayed silent, gazing out at the glowing nightscape.
Tamayo watched his calm profile, slowly sinking into her own ancient memories.
When she was still human, she had contracted a vicious terminal illness that no doctor could cure.
Desperate to survive long enough to see her infant child grow up, she tried every experimental treatment available.
She failed.
As she fell into absolute despair, Muzan Kibutsuji appeared in her room.
He promised that if she accepted his blood and became a demon, she would live.
The illness would vanish.
She believed him.
After agonizing hesitation, Tamayo accepted the dark gift.
She had no idea he was deceiving her.
The physical transformation quickly suppressed her willpower, replacing her human soul with a rabid, overwhelming craving for flesh.
In a mindless, starving frenzy, she slaughtered her husband, her child, and the rest of her extended family.
When her sanity finally returned, the crushing weight of regret nearly destroyed her.
She considered emptying her mind entirely, living forever as a hollow corpse driven only by base instinct.
In the end, she refused to degenerate into a mindless beast.
She clung to her last shred of agonizing humanity and awakened her true will.
Later, when Yoriichi Tsugikuni sliced Muzan into over thousands of pieces, Tamayo seized the rare distraction to permanently break the tyrant’s telepathic curse.
But maintaining her human clarity was pure agony.
It forced her to constantly, vividly recall butchering her own family.
The deep guilt oppressed her soul until she could barely breathe.
For centuries, bearing that crushing sin, only one absolute purpose kept her from walking into the sunlight to end it all: destroying Muzan.
Once her revenge was complete, she would gladly bathe in a beautiful sunrise, departing this cursed world to finally beg forgiveness from her family.
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