Chapter Seven
In the dimly lit room, the faint candlelight flickered violently, and two pairs of eyes looked over.
His eyes were murky and dull, filled with madness, and his mouth was full of scarlet flesh, making him look even more ferocious, like a ghoul that had just crawled out of hell!
The other pair of eyes shimmered with the luster of seven-colored glass, and the pale, delicate face was splattered with dazzling crimson, carrying a hint of bewilderment and innocent vulnerability.
At this moment, an old man, who looked like a demon, with blood all over his mouth, and who was ferocious, vicious, and inhuman, was pressing a bright-eyed boy covered in blood, fragile, and full of brokenness, down on his body.
This visually striking scene made Qianxia's gaze freeze instantly, and a strong feeling of disgust and anger suddenly surged into her heart.
Doma was quite surprised.
Just as he was enjoying the little relief brought by the ritual, a girl who looked like a rabbit and had no trace of breathing suddenly appeared in front of him.
Her eyes were filled with murderous intent.
To his surprise, the murderous intent she unleashed wasn't directed at him, but rather—
His prey.
"Whoosh—"
The girl's hand moved with ghostly speed, grabbing the old man by the back of his collar. With a burst of immense strength, she violently flung his already dying body away.
"Bang--!"
The heavy body crashed to the ground, creating a dull, jarring echo in the deathly silent room.
The old man's cloudy, unfocused pupils stared intently at Qianxia, filled with unbelievable astonishment and overwhelming resentment.
He struggled violently, his eyes flashing with a final madness as he roared, brandishing his blood-stained dagger and viciously lunging at Qianxia.
However!
He took only one step forward.
"Bang--"
His entire body, like a puppet with its strings cut, fell forward heavily without warning, his body hitting the cold, damp ground with a dull thud.
The room fell into a deathly silence.
Qianxia's eyes narrowed, she slowly stepped forward, squatted down, and precisely probed the old man's carotid artery with her fingertips.
There was no movement.
I checked for breath again, but there was only cold, deathly silence.
This monster...
He stopped breathing!
this......
However, the moment she touched his nose, the old man suddenly opened his eyes.
This time, his eyes were even more murky, but his movements were even faster.
Without a second thought, Chika grabbed his arm and threw him over her shoulder, her Nen energy surging, and an electric current shot straight through the old man's chest.
"Bang—"
The old man fell to the ground again.
Chika glanced down.
There was no sign of Nen flow; it wasn't a Nen beast, nor a Nen ability, but the wound was slowly healing.
It's confirmed. This thing is problematic. She can't kill it. We need to leave quickly.
Thinking this, she looked at the boy beside her.
He was an exceptionally handsome young man, dressed in a snow-white coat with a scarlet lining and striped trousers. He had a fair complexion and delicate features, but his most striking feature was his eyes.
It truly is beautiful in every color.
At this moment, the boy who had fallen to the ground was looking at her curiously, his eyes showing neither joy nor sorrow, only a faint curiosity.
Yes, Chinatsu was looking at Doma, and Doma was also looking at Chinatsu.
The girl in front of me was petite, with a round face the size of a palm, and a pair of clear, bright almond-shaped eyes with gray pupils that were nimbly moving.
Her attire was peculiar, consisting of plush fabric clothes resembling those of a doll, with a long, rabbit-shaped hat hanging down her back, making her quite endearing.
"Are you alright? Are you okay?" Meeting his gaze, she slowly approached him.
Doma licked the blood that had splattered on his lips, suppressing the urge to open his fingertips and feel the burning pain in his wrist.
Aha~
This is not a dream...
A person suspected to be a member of the Demon Slayer Corps killed an ordinary person in front of him, who was a demon.
interesting.
He looked at her, tilted his head, and chuckled softly, "Hmm."
Chika's movements as she sheathed her sword were swift and decisive, the scabbard striking the blade with a crisp "click" that was particularly clear in the quiet night.
She was never one to meddle in other people's business, but at this moment, she inexplicably reached out her hand to that man.
Perhaps it was because the starlight in his eyes was too dazzling, or perhaps it was because his silver hair was too eye-catching.
Just because of his hair color, she didn't really want to see him get into trouble. If it were any different color, she would have turned around and left.
Doma lowered his eyes and stared at the girl's outstretched hand. That pale white hand, tinged with crimson, looked like a butterfly that had wandered into a spider's web in the night.
Experimental subjects delivered to your door?
He stroked the Buddhist prayer beads on his wrist, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes, and a faint smile curving his lips.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment, with only the rustling of the night wind through the treetops.
Chika's hand hovered in mid-air. She could feel the other person's gaze constantly scanning her, and that scrutinizing look made her a little uncomfortable.
She followed his gaze to her hands, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
She reluctantly withdrew her hand, slapped it against the paper door with a "smack," and wiped the blood from her fingertips onto it like wiping snot.
This time, it was Douma who was twitching at the corner of his mouth. To be honest, in all his years, he had never seen a woman like this before.
So unrestrained?
Chika couldn't stand it anymore and muttered, "They're too weak to be scared by this little bit of blood."
Every child in Meteor City is born and dies, and they deal with garbage and blood almost from the moment they become conscious.
It wasn't that she was disgusted, but in this world, a twelve-year-old child from Meteor City could probably take on ten people at once.
After smearing several handprints on the paper and cleaning her hands, Qianxia began rubbing her cheeks with the back of her hand, trying to wipe the blood from her face onto the paper as well.
Unexpectedly, the blood on her face was very sticky, and instead of being wiped clean, it spread even more with her haphazard movements.
Bloodstains trailed alluring lines across her porcelain-white skin, from her cheeks to her jawline, and down to below her earlobes.
Doma stared blankly at her, slowly tilting his head. As she used her blood-stained little finger to brush away the stray hairs stuck to her face, he heard the thunderous pounding of his own heart between his ribs.
He subconsciously swallowed, the saliva making a crisp gurgling sound as it flowed down his throat, reaching his stomach and bringing a great sense of emptiness.
This "thump" made Chika, who was already speechless, even less inclined to speak.
"Oh dear! It'll be ready soon, it'll be ready soon."
She took a few steps back, turned her head, and kept rubbing her face with the back of her clean hand. After using the back of her hand, she used her fingers, and after using her fingers, she used her fingertips, and then she stuck the door shut.
Ironically, in the end, instead of wiping his face clean, his hands and the door were even dirtier.
Although she couldn't see what she looked like, she sensed something was wrong from the boy's increasingly uncontrollable gasps.
"Ugh! This is so hard to clean!" Qianxia was about to lose her temper. "What is this thing? It's so difficult to please!"
It wasn't that she wanted to scold him; it's just that he's really fragile.
"You can't clean it like that."
Doma tried to reach out to her, but if the girl resisted even slightly, the iron blade of the fan would slash her neck, and his teeth would bite through her arteries.
However, he easily touched her wrist, easily pulled her fingers together, and easily dragged her closer to him little by little.
Her pulse beat rhythmically in his palm, without the slightest abnormality. Yet his fingertips were already caressing her cheek.
Chika paused for a moment, then turned her head slightly, as if to make it easier for him to move. "Thank you."
She could tell at a glance that this person wasn't a Demon Slayer, so she didn't need to hide herself. She could also tell from their scent that they weren't a bad person, so there was no need to be overly wary.
Besides, at such a short distance, killing him would be as easy as turning her hand.
"Hmm~"
So cute, I want to raise it!
Douma chuckled softly, his gaze shifting from eye-level to looking up at him. "What's your name? Where are you from?"
"I'm Chika, from Meteor City, but you probably don't know, it's quite far from here. What about you? What's your name? Where are you from?"
Communication is about give and take, and Chika understands this principle.
"Domo is a local."
He gently pinched the large white sleeve of his coat and wiped away the bloodstains on her face bit by bit, moving his face closer and closer to hers, as if he could see her more clearly that way.
The night was thick and quiet all around, with only the soft rustling of sleeves against the skin.
Chika took a light sniff, and a faint scent of sandalwood mixed with the aroma of barbecue that she hadn't smelled in a long time wafted past her nose, giving her a slightly smoky feeling.
For some reason, she began to feel a little uneasy. She hadn't noticed before because she was too anxious, but now that he was closer, she realized that this person didn't seem to be a teenager.
On the contrary, he is a very mature man.
At this moment, he leaned forward slightly, the tight inner fabric of his clothes outlining every inch of his strong muscles, and vaguely, one could also see some mature waist and abdominal lines.
"Uh—am I being nosy?"
Qianxia blinked, tilted her head to look at him, her gaze sweeping over his slender neck, where a faint blue vein throbbed gently as he swallowed.
It was as if they were suppressing something.
Hmm, was he about to make a move, and then she interrupted him?
Qianxia glanced sideways at the man behind her who had long since died, "Shouldn't you... be able to beat him?"
Douma slightly raised his eyebrows, and the dim candlelight behind him shattered into tiny fragments in the girl's eyes. In a flash, his pure gaze overlapped with a figure from his memory.
And that person from back then has long since turned into a pile of shattered moonlight.
"No, no, no," he squinted, shaking his head repeatedly, his tongue licking his somewhat sharp canine teeth, a smile spreading across his lips.
"I was terrified at the time."
The man's smell made him feel nauseous and wanted to vomit, which was also why he had always enjoyed eating women.
"Thank goodness you came."
Doma's voice was as light as a feather. As he spoke, his hands encircled her waist, pulling her closer and closer, his face resting against hers.
"Stay by my side from now on."
His posture was almost excessively devout, like he was embracing a fragile piece of porcelain.
The fleece clothing was incredibly soft; my breath brushed against my head, sending shivers down my spine.
This reminded him of the rabbits that woman had kept a long time ago, which had also nestled gently in her arms back then.
He felt better, but Chika's whole body was stiff.
She was a little confused about how things had turned out this way, and in that instant, she deeply understood the helplessness that Sanemi had shown when he saved her.
Speechless as she was, Chika still pressed down on his shoulder, trying to push him away.
The moment her fingertips touched her skin, she abruptly pulled them back.
The reason was simple: the boy's body temperature was abnormally cold, almost inhumanly so.
Remembering the fright he had just experienced, Chika ultimately gave up on pushing him away.
This person was so frightened that their whole body turned ice cold. So pitiful, so pitiful.
She raised her hand, touched his hair, and, mimicking Shinobu Kocho's tone, reassured him, "No problem, no problem, I'm here."
The words were meant to be comforting, but the dry voice lacked any soothing tone, sounding stiff and unnatural, like someone reciting a textbook, each word slurred and hesitant.
Hey! She's good at killing, but she's not cut out for comforting people.
"that--"
Chika decided to change the subject and distract him. She cleared her throat and pushed him away from her embrace.
"Do you know where this is? Do you know why there are so many evil spirits here? Do you know why they are capturing people?"
A barrage of questions came out like a machine gun, but Doma just tilted his head and blinked his painted eyes, looking even more puzzled than Chinatsu.
"Ah, who knows? Maybe they want to worship some deity."
The boy's voice remained light and airy, the candlelight flickering and casting dappled shadows on his pale skin, making his heterochromatic eyes appear even more alluring.
Chinatsu suddenly seemed to have discovered something new, leaning down and getting incredibly close to his face, "Ah—your eyes..."
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