The night sky after the snow was exceptionally clean.
It was as if one could see the depths of the night sky at a glance, and the stars twinkled.
The moon hung alone in the high sky, emitting a faint light in all directions.
"Cough cough! Cough cough cough!!"
A violent coughing sounded from the wooden house in the mountain.
Tanjuro sat in the snow in front of the door, covering his mouth and coughing uncontrollably.
After calming his breathing, he slowly released the hand that was covering his mouth.
~Drip. Drip.~
The crimson blood flowed from between his fingers, staining the white snow beneath him.
Sitting in the snow for a long time, his weak body was almost unable to hold on.
"Haha..."
Tanjuro stared at his blood-stained hands, took a few deep breaths, and then looked up with relief and smiled.
Standing up, he looked around. There was not a sound in the depths of the dark forest.
His family had been evacuated safely, and he was the only one left.
There was nothing to worry about now.
Tanjuro usually maintained a calm, indifferent, and thoughtful approach.
He once mastered the world and saw through all the laws of the world, which was a kind of indifference of returning to nature.
It is the same now.
It's just that after living for more than 30 years in the world of Sekiro, Tanjuro might have become more "transparent."
To be honest, after being "transparent" for too long, Tanjuro just felt tired.
Tanjuro patted the snow off his body, smiled, and slowly took out the wedge-shaped ball that was burning red and glowing from the gradually extinguished charcoal kiln.
The light from the red-hot blade even slightly illuminated the snow next to Tanjuro, making the white snow appear red.
Looking down at the red and shiny blade, Tanjuro nodded in satisfaction.
~Click!~
He casually put the red-hot blade back into the scabbard.
Don't worry, compared to the various attacks he suffered in the Sekiro world.
A little heat is nothing to the Kusabimaru and its scabbard.
Tanjuro may have died so many times, but the Kusabimaru never broke once.
"Phew..." After a deep breath.
Tanjuro looked back at the direction of the foot of the mountain, and he was very clear in his heart.
There were only two possible outcomes for him if he stayed this time.
First, he lives.
Second, he died.
He was more inclined to the second possibility, and in fact, he thought so himself.
If Muzan had seen through his thoughts even a little.
In a matter of seconds, he could be ground to dust.
After that, Muzan would not go to find his family to take revenge or anything like that—after all, they had already separated.
"I was supposed to die."
Tanjuro turned around and faced his house, carefully examining the appearance of the house inch by inch.
As if to imprint the room in his mind.
He muttered to himself.
"I hope I can die a more valuable death this time." Tanjuro shrugged his shoulders; his dark red eyes were calm.
Never coming back to life again.
~Click.~
Tanjuro pushed open the door to his room, and as he stepped over the threshold, he silently said in his heart.
"I'm sorry, Kie."
"Let me be selfish this time."
After giving himself the mental suggestion that he would fight to the death, Tanjuro would stop Muzan at all costs.
At the same time, he asked Kie to tell Urokodaki to send someone after dawn to investigate Muzan's whereabouts.
As for himself, he would try to leave some valuable clues.
He will face his own death with equanimity.
The warning signs flashing in his heart turned into a bright red "danger" character above his head.
Tanjuro came to his senses and slowly walked into the dark house.
With his back to the door, he slammed the wooden door shut with a backhand.
In the instant before the door was completely closed.
The word "Danger" that was flashing rapidly above Tanjuro's head suddenly stopped flashing.
But it is fixed there.
Tanjuro's face, hidden in the darkness, was expressionless.
Shadows clouded his eyes.
"I'll risk my life to kill you."
—Kibutsuji Muzan!
Bang! The wooden door was completely closed.
The world outside the door was silent.
The night holds its breath for the coming confrontation.
---
---
At the foot of the mountain.
"Hum 🎵 hum hum 🎵 ~"
Kibutsuji Muzan was wearing a black suit and white slim-fit pants, humming a tune with a happy expression. His morbidly white skin was particularly harmonious with the snowy environment.
The plum-red pupils were even more profound under the shadow of the top hat, and his eyes constantly swept over the footprints on the ground.
"...human?"
His eyes followed the footprints and looked all the way to—
—A small house at the foot of the mountain, with the lights already turned off.
The string of footprints that was supposed to go up the mountain suddenly turned a corner and went straight into the house.
Muzan's bloodshot red eyes stared at the house for a while, then he looked away and continued to walk toward the top of the mountain.
Boring.
There were only two people in the house.
A rotten old man who smelled so bad that it made Muzan want to pinch his nose and leave.
The smell of decay reminded him of death.
Death.
Muzan, who had just taken a step, had his pupils shrink slightly, and the blue veins on his forehead slowly burst out, and finally his face was covered with hideousness.
—Disgusting wretch.
However, he who was about to become the perfect creature would never die.
Muzan firmly believed it.
His experiments along the way were also to see if it was possible to find an evolutionary route to immunity to sunlight from other newly born demons.
If there is, he will eat said demon.
Then I can walk in the sun in a fair and open manner!
I no longer have to hide and live a painful and twisted life in the dark, watching creatures that are weaker than me walk freely.
Freedom!
And then!
Even that detestable fellow.
A decaying corpse!
Even if they turn into skeletons and crawl out of their coffins, Muzan has nothing to fear!
That guy!
In Muzan's mind, the image of the red-bladed swordsman looking down at him from above hundreds of years ago appeared.
That was the only time in the past thousand years that he had been so embarrassed!
The more Muzan thought about that guy's appearance and tone, the more rage and hate consumed his every being.
The anger that had reached its peak instantly gushed out from his chest. He stood in place, his pupils contracted, and he was trembling rapidly in place.
His sickly white skin turned red, and blue veins popped out all over his neck.
Tsugikuni Yoriichi!!!
Muzan stood in the snow, his body trembling with rage.
I wish I had met you after that!
Muzan thought bitterly.
Once he had overcome the sun, Yoriichi could no longer harm him.
Can only be tortured to death by him!
Then, he will heal him so he can torture him again and again!
Muzan's mood suddenly became cheerful again.
The red pupils looked at the top of the mountain again.
His eyes glanced slightly behind him, in the direction of the house.
"Poor fellow," he muttered to himself in a low voice as he moved away from the foot of the hill.