The night wind in the mountains was exceptionally biting, making the solitary lamp under the eaves of the "Himura Senichi Tavern" sway precariously.
Inside the tavern, the last two regulars grumbled, "It's so cold," paid their bill, and left, pulling their clothes tighter and hunching their necks.
The small tavern was suddenly left with only the young girl wiping tables and the newly arrived guest, whose extraordinary demeanor seemed completely out of place in this secluded mountain establishment.
"Um... sir, what can I get for you?"
Himura Ruri put down her rag, curiously observing the man before her, dressed in an expensive suit, his handsome face almost too striking for her to look at directly.
She tried to make her voice sound more like a capable adult: "How did someone like you end up alone, so late, in such a remote place like ours? It's very dangerous, you know!"
Muzan tilted his head slightly, a perfectly measured gentle smile on his face: "Dangerous? Why do you say that, little girl?"
Himura Ruri's spirits immediately lifted when he spoke.
She put her hands on her hips, deliberately lowered her voice, and made a fierce expression: "Because there are 'those' in the mountains! Man-eating demons! If you walk alone at night, you'll be snatched away!"
Her intention was to scare this gentleman, who seemed to be from a big city and knew nothing.
But she saw the smile on his face deepen even further.
"Demons?" Muzan's voice was soft, as if carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Then, little girl, aren't you afraid?"
"I'm not afraid at all!" Ruri puffed out her small chest, her face beaming with pride.
"My family's ancestors were famous swordsmen! Even though my father runs a tavern now, his swordsmanship hasn't faltered one bit. With my father around, no demon dares to come!"
"Swordsmanship?" A barely perceptible flicker of eerie light flashed in Muzan's shallow red eyes, his tone still gentle, "Sounds very impressive."
"Ruri!"
Just then, the kitchen curtain was pulled open.
A lean, resolute middle-aged man, wearing a clean apron, emerged.
He was carrying a few freshly fried pieces of tofu, having clearly heard the conversation outside.
"Don't say such rude things to guests." Himura Senichi softly chided his daughter, but his eyes were full of doting affection.
He turned to Muzan, bowed slightly, and with perfect etiquette: "My apologies, my daughter is ignorant and has disturbed you. May I ask what the guest would like?"
His gaze briefly lingered on Muzan, and relying on his keen intuition as a swordsman, he could detect almost nothing out of the ordinary.
But in the deepest part of his heart, an inexplicable, subtle, and indescribable chill inexplicably arose, as if he had been inadvertently brushed by something extremely dangerous.
However... seeing the other party's gentle demeanor when interacting with his daughter, and then looking at the other party's expensive clothing and impeccable manners...
"It must be a misconception... The mountains haven't been peaceful lately, and I'm just too tense."
Himura Senichi shook his head to himself, attributing the unease to his own excessive vigilance.
"Just a bowl of your signature udon noodles will do." Muzan said with a gentle smile.
While waiting, Muzan took out an exquisitely gilded pocket watch from his pocket. Intricate vine patterns were carved on its cover, reflecting an alluring luster under the dim lamplight.
He gently opened the cover, revealing the precisely ticking movement inside. The crisp ticking sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet tavern.
Himura Ruri, who had run out to deliver water, was immediately captivated, her eyes wide, staring unblinkingly at the beautiful pocket watch.
"Do you like it?"
Muzan closed the cover and placed the pocket watch on the table, pushing it towards Ruri.
"How about we make a bet? If your father's udon noodles can impress me with their deliciousness, this watch is yours."
"Really?" Himura Ruri was so surprised she almost jumped, but then immediately put her hands on her hips with full confidence, "You're going to lose, my dad's udon noodles are the best in the world! I'll go hurry him up!"
With that, she bounded back to the kitchen like a happy little deer.
She shouted, "Dad, Dad! You have to make the best noodles ever! The guest is going to give me a beautiful pocket watch!"
Himura Senichi smiled helplessly in the kitchen, not taking the guest's jest seriously.
But his attitude towards cooking was as serious as ever.
This was his signature dish, his livelihood, and his pride.
Kneading dough, stretching noodles... every step was meticulous, poured with his heart.
Muzan's smile remained gentle, his fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly on the tabletop.
A family of swordsmen... huh?
Perhaps... a good test subject.
Soon, Himura Senichi personally emerged, carrying a steaming bowl of udon noodles.
The noodles were as white as jade, neatly arranged in a clear broth, topped with a few thin slices of char siu, a soft-boiled egg, some seaweed, and vibrant green onions. The aroma was enticing, clearly made with great care.
"Please enjoy." The noodle bowl was gently placed in front of Muzan.
Muzan picked up his chopsticks, elegantly lifted a mouthful of noodles, blew on them, and put them into his mouth.
Himura Ruri, nervous and expectant, clung to the kitchen doorframe, her big eyes fixed on his expression.
After a few chews, Muzan slowly put down his chopsticks.
"How is it? It's delicious, isn't it!" Himura Ruri asked impatiently, her eyes sparkling.
Muzan picked up a napkin and slowly wiped the corners of his mouth, as if he had touched something unclean.
He looked up, and the gentle mask on his face suddenly vanished.
In its place was an undisguised coldness and disgust, as if he were looking at garbage.
"Crude cooking, murky broth, noodles with no elasticity, and the fishy smell of the flesh of a low-grade creature..."
His voice became sharp and cold, every word like a poisoned ice needle.
"Is this the... slop that humans rely on to survive? Truly nauseating."
The expectation and excitement on Himura Ruri's face instantly froze, turning into bewilderment and helplessness.
Himura Senichi's expression also darkened abruptly.
This was not ordinary pickiness; it was outright insult!
However, before he could retort, an indescribable, utterly terrifying pressure, like an invisible giant mountain, erupted from Muzan.
In an instant, the air in the entire small tavern seemed to solidify.
The flame of the oil lamp suddenly shrank, as if it would extinguish at any moment.
A cold malice, like a tangible entity, entwined itself around every corner of the tavern.
Ruri, being closest, her small face instantly turned pale.
A tremendous fear gripped her heart, preventing her from even screaming; she could only shiver, rigid all over.
Muzan slowly raised his hand.
That long, pale, once incredibly elegant hand now resembled a death-claiming claw.
It reached directly for the girl, who was within arm's reach!
It was faster than imaginable!
But Himura Senichi, who had been secretly vigilant, had already reacted the moment Muzan's aura changed drastically.
"Ruri! Get out of the way!"
He let out a furious roar, and with speed and explosive power far beyond that of an ordinary person, he violently pulled his stunned daughter behind him.
At the same time, his other hand shot like lightning beneath the counter!
Clang—! A clear clang of a blade cut through the stagnant air.
A well-maintained katana instantly unsheathed.
The gleaming blade cast a cold glint in the dim light, unhesitatingly slashing towards Muzan's grabbing wrist.