Chapter 101: What is the Language of a Cat?
The journey to Asakusa proved far from peaceful, though Kanzaki Akira hardly minded the interruptions. Along the dirt roads leading toward the city, he crossed paths with two rather unfortunate demons. They barely had time to bare their fangs before his blade severed their necks. True to his pragmatic nature, Akira didn't let their swift demise go to waste; he carefully extracted the necessary blood and tissue samples, securing them in specialized vials. They would make excellent contributions to Kochou Shinobu's ongoing poison research.
By the time he finally arrived, the sun had long since dipped below the horizon. Asakusa stood before him, arguably the first true metropolis Akira had set foot in since beginning this life.
Gas lamps cast a warm, flickering amber glow over the paved streets, illuminating a sea of moving bodies. Compared to the towering steel-and-glass skyscrapers and blinding neon grids of his previous life, this era's version of a bustling city lacked a certain overwhelming awe. Yet, it possessed a unique, vibrant charm. Even in the dead of night, the avenues were packed with pedestrians. The clatter of wooden geta sandals against the stone mingled with the laughter of merchants and the ringing bells of rickshaws. In fact, the nightlife seemed even more energetic than the daytime, likely because the working class finally had a moment to breathe and wander freely.
Akira paused at the edge of the district to adjust his haori, ensuring the distinct hilt of his Nichirin Blade remained thoroughly concealed beneath the fabric. Once satisfied, he stepped forward, smoothly blending into the flowing current of passersby.
Trying to track down two specific demons who were actively masking their presence in a city of this scale was nothing short of a gamble. However, Akira had always considered his luck to be exceptionally good—if it weren't, he wouldn't have crossed paths with the wonderful girls who now filled his life with warmth. He just hoped his luck wouldn't overextend itself tonight. If he accidentally triggered a hidden encounter with a certain someone, he might end up laughing right up until his untimely demise.
He knew the lore well enough. To search for clues regarding the elusive blue spider lily, the Demon King, Kibutsuji Muzan, maintained a hidden identity right here in Asakusa. Akira had no way of knowing if the progenitor of demons was currently residing in the city or playing house somewhere else under a different guise to gather information.
Still, since he was already here, he decided to treat this mission as a proper outing. He wasn't exactly short on funds. As he strolled down the lively thoroughfares, he stopped at various night market stalls. He purchased skewers of grilled meat to satisfy his own stomach, and carefully selected a few delicate, beautifully crafted hairpins and trinkets. Beneath their fierce identities as Demon Slayer Corps swordswomen, Makomo and the others were still young girls at heart. They naturally adored pretty, ornamental gifts, and Akira loved nothing more than spoiling them.
The hours drifted by. As the night deepened, the lively clamor of the streets gradually faded, and the dense crowds thinned out into sparse, solitary figures. Most people had jobs to return to at dawn; they couldn't all afford to be night owls.
Akira exhaled a quiet breath, the cool night air brushing against his face. He figured his search would likely yield no results tonight and began scanning the area for a decent inn to rest.
Just as he turned a corner, a small shadow darted through his peripheral vision.
"Speak of night owls, and a cat appears," Akira murmured, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He shifted his gaze toward the alleyway.
The creature sitting atop a wooden crate seemed unusually intelligent. As Akira looked at it, the feline turned its head, meeting his stare with striking, golden eyes.
The smile on Akira's face instantly brightened.
It was a calico cat. A small, neatly tied bundle rested on its back, and hanging from its neck was a distinct paper talisman, marked with a red pattern that eerily resembled an open eye.
Taking in those unique features, Akira immediately identified the little courier. This was Chachamaru, the very feline companion of the targets he had come to Asakusa to find.
If Chachamaru was here, Tamayo and Yushiro couldn't be far away. Akira's grin widened into something entirely too predatory for a simple cat lover.
Anyone who has ever tried to catch a stray knows the universal language of felines: hesitate for a second, and they vanish.
Sensing an incredibly dangerous aura radiating from the smiling human, Chachamaru let out a sharp meow. The sound instantly triggered the Blood Demon Art imbued within the talisman on its chest by Yushiro. In the blink of an eye, the calico cat completely disappeared from sight.
Witnessing the feline vanish into thin air only cemented Akira's certainty.
Yushiro's Blood Demon Art was a masterful illusion, perfectly erasing Chachamaru's physical form from the naked eye. However, it couldn't erase the physical impact the cat had on the world. It couldn't hide the microscopic puffs of dust kicked up from the dirt road, nor the incredibly faint indentations left behind by tiny paws.
With the streets now entirely devoid of pedestrians, Akira focused. His terrifyingly sharp vision locked onto those minute environmental disturbances.
The invisible cat fled, and the very visible swordsman pursued.
The chase led them through a maze of narrow alleyways until the faint tracks abruptly vanished at the base of a towering residential wall. Akira reached out, his fingertips brushing against the solid, cold stone. It wasn't an illusion. The cat had leaped straight up a three-meter vertical surface to shake him off.
Akira tilted his head back, staring at the top of the wall. "You've got to be kidding me. Can this cat actually fly?"
Of course, a three-meter obstacle was nothing to a trained swordsman. With a casual bend of his knees, Akira launched himself upward, clearing the wall with effortless grace and landing silently on the sloping roof.
Up on the ceramic tiles, the visual tracks were nearly impossible to discern. Yet, the sharp, rhythmic clicking of tiny claws scrambling over the baked clay echoed clearly in the quiet night. Akira simply followed the sound, his footsteps light and relentless as he bounded across the rooftops.
A few moments later, a deeply resigned meow sounded from the ridge of the roof ahead. The illusion dropped, and Chachamaru materialized in the moonlight.
Akira couldn't be entirely sure, but he swore he heard a distinct mixture of absolute helplessness, grievance, and sheer indignation in that single feline cry.
'Is this human out of his mind? With such terrifying speed and tracking skills, why in the world is he hunting a cat?!''Even after being chased across half the district, it didn't even hiss at me. What a professional,' Akira thought, coming to a halt. He looked at the calico cat sitting quietly on the tiles, its tail flicking in agitation.
This was a peerless, very useful medical assistant. It absolutely needed to be treated with care.
Amused by his own thoughts, Akira slowly closed the distance and crouched down until he was eye-level with the feline.
"You're a brave little fellow. Your name is Chachamaru, isn't it?"
The cat's golden eyes widened to the size of saucers, its tiny head clearly short-circuiting at being addressed by name.
Taking advantage of its shock, Akira reached out and gently scratched the spot right behind its ears. The fur was incredibly soft and smooth, but beneath his fingertips, the creature felt unnaturally cold. It entirely lacked the warm, comforting body heat of a living animal.
"Could you do me a favor and take me to Tamayo?" Akira asked, his tone conversational and entirely devoid of hostility. He then shifted his gaze, looking directly at the red-patterned talisman hanging from the cat's neck. "Or rather, I should be asking the one watching through this paper right now. Yushiro, isn't it? Can we meet? Don't worry, I don't harbor any ill intent toward you two. If I did, Chachamaru wouldn't be sitting here so comfortably."
He gave the cold feline another gentle pat. "After all, this little guy is a demon too, right?"
Yushiro's Blood Demon Art was far more complex than simple invisibility. The talismans not only concealed the wearer but also allowed the user to share their vision, effectively turning anyone—or anything—wearing the paper into a living surveillance camera.
The moment Akira's words hung in the crisp night air, every single hair on Chachamaru's body stood on end.
Miles away, deep within a heavily concealed, illusion-shrouded estate, Yushiro sat rigidly on the tatami mats. He had been monitoring the situation through the talisman, and upon hearing his own name spoken directly into his ear by the terrifying swordsman, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
'He knows! He knows exactly who we are!' Yushiro's mind raced in sheer panic.
"Yushiro, what is the matter?" a gentle, soothing voice inquired from across the room.
Yushiro swallowed hard, turning to the beautiful woman sitting gracefully beside him. "Lady Tamayo... it's Chachamaru. He's been cornered by a strange human. Even with my Blood Demon Art active, the man tracked him effortlessly. Worse still, he seems to know exactly who we are."
Yushiro's hands balled into tight fists. "Just a moment ago, he looked right at the talisman and asked to meet us."
Tamayo's serene expression shifted into one of quiet contemplation. Her deep, ancient eyes stared thoughtfully at the floorboards. "I see... In that case, we should welcome our guest."
"Lady Tamayo, absolutely not! That man could be incredibly dangerous!" Yushiro protested loudly, his protective instincts flaring. It was one of the very rare occasions he dared to argue with the woman he revered above all else.
"He already knows of our existence, Yushiro., he possesses the skill to track down Chachamaru despite your art," Tamayo replied softly, shaking her head. "He would have found this house eventually, unless we planned to never step foot outside these walls again."
"We could just wait him out! Wait for him to leave Asakusa!"
"We have no way of knowing how long he intends to stay." Tamayo offered a small, reassuring smile. "Besides, he had the perfect opportunity to strike down Chachamaru, yet he chose not to. That alone proves he does not harbor immediate, lethal intent toward us. Please, Yushiro, do as I ask."
Yushiro's jaw locked, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and deep-seated anxiety. But he could never deny her. "I... I understand, Lady Tamayo."
Back on the moonlit rooftop, Chachamaru suddenly wiggled out from beneath Akira's hand. The calico cat shook its fur out, let out a short, commanding meow, and turned around. Making no further attempt to hide its form, the demon cat bounded gracefully across the tiles, glancing back just once to ensure the strange human was following.
Akira smiled, falling into step behind his tiny guide.
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