The demon, a master of concealment and transformation, had vanished without a trace.
Kanao, still relatively green and lacking the seasoned intuition of a veteran, assumed the worst. Her immediate reaction was that the creature had successfully fled the perimeter.
However, Shinobu shook her head, dismissing the girl's doubt. Her instincts told her otherwise. The demon hadn't run; it had simply shifted into a new form, hiding in plain sight somewhere within this very clearing.
With that conclusion drawn, the two sisters stood back-to-back, their eyes scanning the dark woods with clinical intensity.
What could the demon have become?
Previously, the creature had disguised itself as a simple tree branch, remaining so unnervingly still that they had stepped on it without sensing a spark of life. It was a commitment to camouflage that bordered on the absolute.
For all they knew, a nearby trunk, a jagged rock, or even a clump of moss could be their enemy, watching them with hidden, hungry eyes.
How do you find a ghost? How do you slay a shadow?
For a long moment, the forest was still. The two slayers remained motionless, their minds racing to find a solution. Should they resort to a scorched-earth policy? Should they hack away at every stone and leaf until the demon was forced to reveal itself?
No. That was too inefficient. If they struck in the wrong direction, the demon would simply use the opening to revert to its agile form and vanish for good.
Kanao, reaching the limits of her tactical experience, turned a helpless gaze toward Shinobu.
But Shinobu Kocho was as brilliant as she was deadly. A sharp glint flickered in her eyes—a plan had already taken root.
A small, slightly "black-bellied" smile played on her lips. Reaching into her haori, her sleeves, and the various pouches hidden on her person, she began to produce one bamboo cylinder after another.
When Kanao saw the familiar tubes, a look of sudden realization dawned on her face.
It was a tactic from the past. Back when Horitake and Shinobu had their first sparring match, Shinobu, finding herself outmatched by Horitake's raw power, had resorted to the tools of an assassin. Among her arsenal of hidden needles and poisons were these very cylinders.
Once triggered, they released a concentrated toxic gas capable of knocking out—or killing—anyone who inhaled even a trace.
But these were no ordinary gas bombs.
The toxins within these tubes had been refined with Shinobu's latest research into Wisteria poison. Their potency had been amplified dozens of times over, and the range of the resulting cloud was far greater than before.
With a mischievous, chilling smile, Shinobu primed the mechanisms on the cylinders and tossed them into the surrounding undergrowth.
The moment the tubes left her hands, she grabbed Kanao and retreated. They leaped back with practiced grace, landing high upon the sturdy branch of a distant tree to observe the fallout from a safe distance.
Thump. Pop. Hiss.
A series of muffled explosions echoed through the clearing. One by one, the bamboo tubes burst, venting thick, roiling clouds of violet gas. The explosion propelled the mist outward, blanketing the area in a shimmering, lethal haze.
The new Wisteria toxin was the ultimate bane of demonkind.
For the creature hiding in the brush, the forest had suddenly become a tomb. Even a single breath of that purple air was enough to send the concentrated poison coursing through its veins.
The agony was instantaneous. The toxin didn't just hurt; it began to dissolve the demon's very essence from the inside out.
From their vantage point, Shinobu and Kanao watched as the trap was sprung.
Sure enough, the environment began to "break." A seemingly ordinary, unremarkable shrub suddenly buckled. Its leaves turned to skin; its wood turned to bone. In a grotesque display of heaving flesh and shifting marrow, the plant distorted and grew, transforming back into a terrifying, fanged female demon.
The demon was a mask of pure terror. She clutched at her throat and nose, her movements erratic and stumbling. Blinded by pain and gasping for air that wasn't poisoned, she crawled out of the mist, her body convulsing with every inch she gained.
Though she managed to break free from the densest part of the cloud, it was far too late. The dose she had inhaled was lethal.
The demon collapsed onto the dirt, her body thrashing in violent, uncontrollable spasms. Her skin bubbled where the poison took hold. At this point, further disguise was impossible—survival itself was a fading dream.
Seeing the success of the gambit, Kanao looked at Shinobu with bright, admiring eyes. "It worked! Sister Shinobu, you did it!"
Shinobu nodded, her expression softening with a hint of satisfaction.
The two of them descended from the tree, landing as light as feathers beside the dying demon.
The creature was still clinging to life, though barely. Blood leaked from the corners of her mouth as she twitched in the dirt. Her eyes were wide, flickering between a desperate hope for mercy and the cold realization of her impending end. She struggled to move, to crawl away, but her limbs refused to obey.
The sight of Shinobu and Kanao approaching was the final nail in her coffin.
Shinobu's face was a mask of cold, porcelain beauty. She drew her Nichirin sword with a whisper of steel. Using the needle-like tip of the blade, she tilted the demon's chin upward, forcing the creature to meet her gaze.
Shinobu smiled—the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"My, my... Miss Demon. I truly am sorry about this."
She leaned in slightly, her voice melodic yet sharp as a razor. "There's no use struggling anymore. This poison is a special blend of mine. Once a demon ingests this much, there is no recovery. You can only wait for the end. And I should warn you—the process of dying from this specific toxin is quite... excruciating."
Shinobu paused, letting the demon's whimpers fill the silence.
"However, I can be merciful. I have a few questions. if you answer them honestly, I'll end your suffering right now. No more pain. How does that sound? Shall we cooperate?"
The demon looked up at the smiling Hashira, her eyes brimming with absolute horror. She saw the "mercy" in Shinobu's eyes and knew it was her only escape from the agony burning in her lungs. She nodded frantically, a silent plea for a quick death.
Shinobu's smile widened slightly. "Good. First: What is your relationship with the Upper Rank Five?"
The demon opened her mouth, her voice a ragged, wet rasp. "I... I am... I am his subordinate..."
"Expected," Shinobu noted with a nod. "And what is this Upper Rank Five's name? What is his Blood Demon Art? Does he have any weaknesses?"
The demon struggled to form the words through the blood and bile. "Upper Rank Five... his name is... Riya. Lord Riya! His art... it is the bow! He fires... so many... terrifying arrows! Weaknesses... I... I don't know! I swear, I truly don't know!"
Shinobu's eyes narrowed slightly. It was a disappointing answer, but a logical one. A master as cautious as an archer wouldn't reveal his vulnerabilities to a mere scout.
She moved on to the next point. "Why were you disguised as an actress? Why infiltrate that specific theater and troupe? What was your objective?"
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