Login with GoogleChapter 48: I Am an Adorer of Feline Companions
Fujiwara Matsudaira drew his sword abruptly.
In an era of sword prohibition, carrying a real blade was considered illegal and criminal.
During ordinary times, the former samurai would conceal their blades within various types of long handles, such as umbrellas or walking canes.
He concealed the blade within the umbrella and, to the astonishment of all, drew it out swiftly, slashing at the oncoming demon wind. The blade gleamed with a chilling light, emitting a resonant hum.
Fujiwara Matsudaira emitted peculiar cries akin to those of monkeys and apes.
The gust of fierce wind, interwoven with demonic and grudge-filled energy, was actually sliced and torn apart. The enormous, peculiar maw was also severed, revealing the remnants of ethereal shadows concealed within the black demonic aura.
Yoshino Sachiko firmly planted both hands and feet, pressing down on the railing. She arched her body and fixed her gaze upon the blade held in the hands of Fujiwara Matsudaira, emitting a bestial and menacing growl.
"Unbelievable that such a thing still exists in this era!"
"Interesting, cutting you down would certainly add a noteworthy anecdote to my future path as a swordsman!"
Fujiwara Matsudaira laughed heartily as he swung his blade and struck.
Yoshino Sachiko grew vigilant and swiftly leaped away from the seemingly mundane slash.
The opponent took three consecutive steps, with the glimmering sword following closely behind. The speed was not particularly fast, and numerous flaws could even be detected. However, the chilling aura of murderous intent remained astonishingly strong.
The railing snapped with a resounding sound.
The yokai leaped onto the wall, climbed up to the second-floor ceiling, and gestured to smash wooden chairs and tables.
However, these pieces of wood were all severed under the sharp blades.
The rest of the gangsters were dazzled, thinking to themselves that they were truly watching an action movie. It was hard to believe that such terrifying swordplay actually existed in reality.
Fujiwara Matsudaira struck down the chair, yet his gaze never shifted from the creature. At the moment it leapt, the blade's trajectory altered direction.
Kesa-giri.
The flash of the blade struck the creature, eliciting a piercing scream. It tumbled from mid-air and landed on the stairs, rolling clumsily down to the first floor.
A patch on her back clothing was torn apart, revealing not the smooth spine of a human, but a matted and tangled tuft of fur.
Both the stairs and the ground bore traces of a crimson hue.
"Kill her!" exclaimed Sanada Ryoichi.
The gangsters beside him surged forward, but soon the individuals in close proximity were smacked in the face by the gust of wind, causing them to scramble away in a disheveled manner. The injured creature clawed its way across the ground, struggling to maintain its humanoid form, gradually revealing its true appearance.
It looked around with resentment, and at the same time, looked up in fear at the blood-stained sword in the hands of Fujiwara Matsudaira on the second floor.
"Ah… Ahh!"
The voice transformed from that of a woman into the roar of a wild beast.
The wound on its back suddenly tore open, and a colossal Demon Cat manifested from within its skin, transforming in the blink of an eye into the fierce form of a predatory mountain tiger.
"I will kill you all, kill every single one of you!"
The Demon Cat, engulfed in a ferocious storm of demonic power, dashed up to the second floor.
Fujiwara Matsudaira swiftly swung his blade, the tactile sensation impeccable, as he confirmed a clean strike.
However, the Demon Cat paid no heed and forcefully pushed him aside, rushing towards the private room. It intended to bite, kill, and tear apart the main culprit, but upon entering the ravaged room, it found it empty, with no trace of any human figure in sight.
Rain was drifting into the room through the slightly ajar window.
The Demon Cat chased out through the window and landed in the alley behind the building.
At the end of the alley, Sanada Ryoichi, who had jumped out the window to escape, was now seated in the backseat of a car.
"You can't escape!" the Demon Cat let out a piercing cry, causing cracks to appear on the window glass.
Sanada Ryoichi didn't dare to look back, as the car started moving and drove through the streets.
It tried to chase, but from behind came an eerie sound of blades singing.
"Do not forget about me," Fujiwara Matsudaira said with a hint of yearning.
Fujiwara Matsudaira stood behind it, revealing a toothy smirk. "Slaying demons is but an anecdote for a warrior."
…
Soft rain drizzled.
It continued forward along the alleyway.
Limping along the dim and damp alleyway, the figure's gait was unsteady. The traces of blood faded into the watery hues, while its fur became soaked.
With little physical strength remaining, with each step taken, it could feel the pain gradually spreading throughout its entire body.
At first, the wound burned with a searing pain, but now even the sensation of pain itself has become indistinct, and the body feels remarkably light.
However, it still hurts.
It hurts so much, feels agonizing…
Is it true that as long as things go back to how they were before, all it takes is a good night's sleep to make everything okay?
Hmm, so sleepy, really want to sleep…
However, I can't sleep yet, it's still too early to sleep…
It shook its head and continued forward, but after taking a few steps, its body suddenly tilted and fell into a muddy puddle.
Ahem…
What's going on?
Why can't I move?
Get up, hurry up…
It struggled to move its front paws, but its feeble body was simply incapable of supporting the strength needed to move forward.
Unable to move.
The ground is so cold, the rain is so cold, I hate water, I hate the icy rainwater.
So chilly, so chilly.
I fondly remember the small cozy fireplace at home, the warm courtyard, and Sachiko's embrace…
Why all of a sudden, are these things no longer present?
When did it start, even Sachiko is gone?
I cannot recall it.
I cannot remember anything…
It's so chilly.
Its breath became extremely slow, even the coughing sounds became extremely feeble.
Perhaps it was an illusion, it heard footsteps approaching, and immediately felt a dizzying sensation.
A slight warmth was felt.
"Sachiko…"
In its final moments, it affectionately uttered this name, unwilling to part.
"Meow~"
To Bai Wei, this was nothing but an ordinary meow. He couldn't understand what it was saying, but he could sense that it must have mistaken him for something else, hence the affectionate sound it made.
The young man gently caressed the cat's head, disregarding the dirty water and bloodstains on its body, and held it tenderly.
It is severely wounded, and there isn't much time left.
He said, "I will take you home."
After saying that, his gaze shifted to the other end of the alleyway.
"Do you even understand what I'm saying? Please make way."
In the drizzling rain, a young man in a traditional Japanese kimono stood ten steps away, holding a crimson umbrella.
His solitary figure stood at the entrance of the alley, obstructing the entire path with a precisely placed umbrella.
The young swordsman smirked and said, "That won't do, the one in your hand there, is my prey."
"Give me some face, why can't you get along with a mere cat?"
"Hehe… What is the value of your esteemed reputation?"
Fujiwara Matsudaira stroked his chin as a drop of rain fell from the edge of his umbrella, shattering into countless pieces upon hitting the ground.
With a paper manuscript in hand, the young mna meticulously compared it to the portrait, observing him like a butcher scrutinizing a slab of pork on the cutting board.
"Moreover, it's not just this cat, even you are my prey."
Bai Wei raised an eyebrow and calmly asked, "Prey? What do you mean? I'm just a passerby who happens to love cats, that's all."
"The meaning is, you won't live to see tomorrow's sun." Fujiwara Matsudaira casually tossed the manuscript, causing the white paper to become soaked and the figure on the paper to blur.
"Don't you fear mistaking someone?"
"Even if I make a mistake, it will be an opportunity to kill one more."
His gaze turned icy cold, "But I believe I haven't made a mistake. I can sense the scent of blood emanating from you…"
Fujiwara Matsudaira swiftly strode towards Bai Wei, each step decisive and swift. The rainwater trickled down the edge of his umbrella at a tilted forty-five-degree angle.
Bai Wei politely smiles, "The scent of blood?"
…Do you know how many masters I slaughtered in my previous life?
PS: Volume 8 (Chapters 281-330) hass been published on Amazon (https://amzn.to/3tv3ouh).
