The opera actress known as Chihana, now back in her everyday attire, walked through the city streets. To any observer, she appeared to be just another unremarkable citizen navigating the urban sprawl.
But reality was far from that simple.
Horitake had long since confirmed that this woman was a demon. He trailed her silently, keeping a calculated distance, his mind churning with questions. How does she mimic a human so perfectly? How can she walk through a crowded city without a hint of detection? What is the secret behind this impenetrable camouflage?
The answer lay in the demon's extraordinary metamorphic Blood Demon Art.
As Chihana walked, she seemed to realize the optics of her situation. It was late; even in a relatively prosperous and peaceful city, a lone woman walking the streets at this hour was bound to draw unwanted attention. Though the crowds were thin, the few passersby she encountered cast curious, lingering glances her way.
After a moment of deliberation, the woman turned sharply into a narrow, lightless alleyway.
Standing deep within the shadows, her body began to churn. Her flesh undulated with a sickening, wet sound, and her skin rippled like agitated jelly.
Hidden on the rooftops above, Shinobu Kochou and Kanao Tsuyuri—who had joined Horitake shortly after he slipped out of the theater—nearly gasped in shock at the sight.
When the demon had left the theater, Horitake had signaled the waiting pair to follow. Now, all three stood witness to the grotesque transformation unfolding in the darkness below. Fortunately, Shinobu and Kanao were seasoned enough to suppress their surprise, ensuring their presence remained undetected.
Under their watchful eyes, the demon's form shifted entirely. Amidst the heaving mass of muscle and bone, the woman's silhouette vanished, replaced by the broader frame of a man.
Most baffling of all was the clothing. The feminine kimono she had been wearing dissolved and reformed alongside her flesh, weaving itself into a plain, nondescript male kimono.
A complete biological pivot from female to male. The sheer visceral impact of such a transformation was staggering.
Once the process was complete, the "man" stepped out of the alley with an air of calm indifference. He blended seamlessly back into the street, walking with a steady, natural gait that raised no alarms.
The three watchers on the roof reacted differently.
Horitake remained composed; thanks to his Spirit Vision, he had anticipated some level of deception. Beside him, however, Shinobu and Kanao were genuinely stunned. They hadn't expected a Blood Demon Art so specialized that it could not only mask a demonic aura but also jump between genders with such terrifying fluidity.
It meant that no one actually knew the demon's true face—or if the creature even had a fixed gender at all.
Kanao, still relatively new to the field, watched the walking figure with narrowed, tense eyes. She found herself wondering: If I encountered a demon like this alone, how would I even identify it? How would I fight something that can become anyone?
Shinobu frowned, leaning closer to Horitake to whisper, "No wonder you said I might not recognize it even if it stood right in front of me. This level of mimicry is formidable. Horitake, what's the move? Do we strike now?"
After a brief pause, Horitake shook his head.
"Let's not be hasty. Even though it's late, there are still too many witnesses on these streets. Killing a demon in broad view of the public would cause a massive panic and draw unwanted government attention. Besides, I'm curious. Why go to such lengths to hide in an opera troupe? We need to uncover its true objective."
Shinobu nodded in silent agreement.
The trio continued their pursuit across the rooftops. Because Kanao lacked the peak level of stealth required for such a high-stakes tail, Shinobu stayed close to her, using her own mastery of movement to help mask the younger girl's presence.
As they followed, they noticed a pattern. The demon, in its male form, was choosing increasingly secluded paths, gradually working its way toward the city limits.
This was a stroke of luck. If the demon's lair was outside the city, they could engage in combat without the risk of collateral damage or public outcry.
Eventually, the disguised demon crossed the boundary of the urban area. The paved streets gave way to dirt roads, and the houses thinned out until they were surrounded by nothing but wilderness and dense thickets of trees. At this hour, the area was utterly desolate.
The man stopped and glanced around. Satisfied that no one was watching, he began to change once more.
The transformation was even more radical this time. With a frantic surge of flesh and bone, the demon's body began to shrink rapidly. The mass of a grown man compressed and folded in on itself.
Head, torso, limbs, and tail—everything was meticulously sculpted from the roiling biomass. Finally, a coat of dark fur sprouted across the surface.
The "man" had vanished, replaced by a common wild cat.
Horitake, watching from a nearby ridge, felt his estimation of the demon's power rise another level. Transforming from a demon to a human was one thing. Switching genders was another. But to compress one's mass so significantly and bridge the gap between species? That was a feat worthy of praise.
While Horitake was impressed, Shinobu and Kanao were left staring with their mouths agape.
The "cat" shook itself, displaying all the lithe agility of a natural feline. With a sudden, graceful spring, it vanished into the dense underbrush, disappearing into the dark forest.
Finding a single cat in a vast, pitch-black wilderness would be an impossible task for almost any tracker. Shinobu and Kanao looked at the spot where it had vanished, feeling the trail go cold.
Fortunately, Horitake's Spirit Vision was not to be underestimated.
He quickly flashed a series of hand signals to Shinobu.
I'll take the lead and track it. You two follow at a safe distance. Don't rush, and don't startle it. I've got this.
In moments of crisis or complexity, Horitake's calm authority was incredibly reassuring. Shinobu gave a sharp, resolute nod, signaling her understanding.
With his Spirit Vision locked onto the thermal and spiritual signature of the cat—which was already a considerable distance away—Horitake lunged forward. He moved with ghost-like speed, his feet barely touching the leaves, making not a sound as he hung onto the demon's trail like an invisible tether.
As he closed the gap, something unexpected happened. A familiar chime rang out in the back of his mind.
The System had spoken.
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