A single rifle was not enough to stop Kyojuro.
At such close range, it was more than enough for the young man to see every subtle movement the opponent made.
Almost at the exact moment Hairo pulled the trigger, Kyojuro snapped his head to the side, evading the line of fire. The bullet grazed his hair as it whizzed past.
[First Form: Unknowing Fire!]
The Nichirin Sword kicked up a massive spray of sparks, slashing heavily across the demon's chest. Though it still didn't completely breach that layer of writhing shadow defense, it was enough to make Hairo let out a howl of pain.
Iguro followed immediately after.
His waist twisted like a coiled spring. Power rose from his rock-steady lower half, transferred through his core, and was finally poured entirely into the blade's edge.
The Nichirin Sword in his hand traced a tricky arc that defied common logic, stabbing straight toward the opening under Hairo's ribs exposed by his distraction.
Fast speed, a bizarre angle, and vicious timing. This was exactly the style he had been experimenting with after digesting Natsunishi's pointers.
This time, the Blood Demon Art controlled by the opponent failed to block in time. The Nichirin Sword sank deep between the ribs. The pain drove the demon into a greater frenzy.
As the shadows flowed, a firearm manifested in each of his hands. Naturally, the firepower he stored in the shadow space wasn't limited to just one or two pieces. Left and right, he began pulling the triggers incessantly at the two slayers.
Kyojuro either raised his sword to deflect or dodged the line of fire, narrowing the distance with difficulty amidst the hail of bullets. After striking out with his sword to lop off one handgun, Iguro, who had been pushed back by the gunfire, also found an opening and lunged forward in a low-profile sprint.
One bright and one hidden; one direct and one eccentric. The two forced Hairo into a state of frantic disarray.
Although this demon was powerful enough to crush either of them in a one-on-one fight, while the two boys' cooperation wasn't seamless, their chemistry and recent training created a wonderful complementary effect in their combat styles.
Furthermore, while Hairo's Blood Demon Art was somewhat eerie, compared to that demon with teleportation abilities from a few days ago, it felt slightly less troublesome.
For a time, the two youths working together actually forced the formidable Hairo back repeatedly, his roars echoing through the night.
"Damn slayers!"
In a fit of rage, Hairo attempted a trick he was still unfamiliar with. He deployed firearms via shadows in several inconspicuous corners, then condensed his Blood Demon Art into solid "hands."
Since they could block slashes, they could naturally pull triggers. Three gunshots rang out almost simultaneously. This was the maximum number he could control remotely outside of his body.
One shot at Kyojuro, one at Iguro, and one at the swordsman who had been standing by with folded arms this whole time. This was a wolf's sneak attack.
Kyojuro barely managed to set his blade at the last second, parrying the bullet aimed at him. The shot fired at Natsunishi also mysteriously missed, veering off to parts unknown.
Only Iguro remained.
Gunsmoke wafted. Iguro did indeed narrowly avoid the shot, but the passing bullet and the splashing gunpowder coincidentally tore through the bandages he relied on to cover his face.
The strips of cloth fluttered down. Iguro Obanai's true face was exposed under the moonlight and the flickering firelight.
The air seemed to freeze for an instant.
Kyojuro looked at him in shock, blurring out: "Iguro—your mouth?!"
Carved into the snake boy's face was a hideous, massive gash. It extended from the corners of his mouth to both sides, nearly tearing through his entire cheeks, even more exaggerated than the grin on a Western clown's face. He looked like the Kuchisake-onna from Eastern folklore, or perhaps like the exaggerated, tearing jaw of a serpent.
A "non-human face."
Even in the middle of a demon-slaying mission, Obanai's movements froze completely. Immense shame, self-loathing, and fear instantly submerged him. Iguro felt as if he had returned to that cage where he was treated like livestock for a monster; his blood ran cold, and his consciousness spiraled into panic.
While the demon didn't know why the opponent had gone dazed, he naturally wouldn't let the opportunity pass.
"Got you!"
Hairo grinned savagely. His shadows transformed into several sharp claws, seizing the chance to strike at the snake boy's completely exposed front!
"Iguro!"
Kyojuro tried to come to his rescue, but more shadows surged up to block him desperately. For a moment, the flames of the sun could not break through the gloom. It looked as though the shadow claws were about to pierce Iguro's chest.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out. But it came from a different direction. It was crisper, sharper.
The bullet bypassed all the shadow obstructions and, in a magically unpredictable curve, accurately struck Hairo right between the eyes!
The demon's eyes rolled back as he briefly lost consciousness. The condensed shadow claws naturally faltered and then slowly dissipated.
Kyojuro immediately rushed to Iguro's side, holding his sword horizontally in defense. The demon quickly regenerated his pierced head and glared with uncontrollable fury at Natsunishi in the distance, and at the Colt 1903 in his hand.
Wisps of smoke were still drifting from the muzzle.
[American Breathing]
[First Form: Curved Shot]
By using Breathing Styles to vastly enhance his dynamic vision and extremely reinforce the neural reflexes and micro-operation stability of his arms and fingers... the sword techniques of Breathing Styles shared a common principle—
Fine, Natsunishi couldn't keep making things up. It was just a simple quick-draw headshot powered by Water Breathing.
As for that curved trajectory—
"So cool! Big Brother Natsunishi, how did you make the bullet turn?!"
Even without having studied physics, Kyojuro found a trajectory that defied intuition to be quite incredible.
Natsunishi didn't answer. To be honest, he didn't understand the principle either. He just flicked his wrist rapidly at the moment the bullet left the barrel, snapping it in a certain direction. The bullet naturally curved.
If anyone asked, it was American Breathing: First Form.
"A swordsman... using a gun?!"
Hairo was confused at first. Then, a deeper rage rooted in his time as a human was ignited. His eyes turned blood-red as he hissed: "Guns! Guns again! You gun-toting bastards!!"
Natsunishi ignored his frenzy, his breathing as steady as could be. Clearly, some sort of Breathing Style was quietly circulating.
"Who made the rule that Breathing Styles can only be used on blades?"
Natsunishi looked at the owl-like boy and spoke in the same tone he used during their previous training sessions.
"Kyojuro, this is the powerful secret technique I taught you before."
As he slowly moved the handgun to his chest, Natsunishi's expression grew increasingly solemn. For a moment, even Hairo couldn't help but be secretly wary. Did this swordsman possess a technique similar to a Blood Demon Art?
"Using the tool as an extension, unifying with the breath for the ultimate Bankai!"
"Colt 1903—"
Before he could finish his sentence, the gunshot suddenly exploded!
Natsunishi seized the moment everyone's attention was drawn by his words to pull the trigger without any warning!
Kyojuro: "?"
Hairo, Iguro: "How despicable!"
After all that talk, wasn't it still just firing a gun?!
Natsunishi remained completely unfazed. Because this was the essence of American Breathing. Wasn't Iaijutsu all about the element of surprise and close-range sneak attacks? What, you can do Japanese Iai, but I can't do American Iai?
[American Breathing]
[Second Form: Iai!]
Hairo's head was blown open once again.
Kyojuro: "Senior, is this the Bankai of American Breathing?"
Natsunishi thought for a moment: "Actually, this is only the first stage of release. There are even more powerful ones later."
Kyojuro: "Sugoi!"
Iguro looked at the deadpan Natsunishi. Then he looked at the demon, who was gnashing his teeth while regenerating his head. The panic and helplessness he felt from having his scars exposed seemed... to have faded slightly.
Was the Senior perhaps doing this on purpose to lighten the mood?
He looked at Natsunishi. And Natsunishi also looked at the snake boy. Compared to Kyojuro's bewilderment, Natsunishi didn't show even a hint of surprise. It was as if the gash on Iguro's face didn't exist at all.
Natsunishi's voice held a hint of urging: "Don't just stand there, go up and get him! Any slower and I'll be taking this EXP bag for myself."
Iguro: "..."
He looked at the hulking, enraged Hairo. For some reason, he felt that Senior's words were even more abnormal than his own mouth.
-----------------------------------------------
I handpick only the finest and most captivating novels for you. Don't forget to check out my other novels!
p@treon HongMengZi