Chapter 119: Even If I Have to Break Your Legs, I'm Taking You Back
For Enmu, letting people drown in beautiful dreams or agonizing nightmares was
his greatest pleasure. He loved waiting until his prey reached their emotional
peak—the height of happiness or the depths of despair—before waking them up just
to kill them personally.
But Demon Slayers were different.
Especially the powerful ones. Their minds were resilient, and some possessed
combat stats higher than his own. Often, the very instant they woke up, their
combat instincts would kick in, and they'd have a Nichirin Sword at his throat
before he could blink.
Thus, when dealing with these "High-Level" targets, Enmu had to adjust his
strategy. He would still trap them in dreams, but he wouldn't wake them up to
deliver the finishing blow. He chose to let them die inside the nightmare
itself. It was a bit less fun for him, but much safer for his health bar.
His Blood Demon Arts, [Forced Faint Sleep] and [Dream Construction], dragged
targets into a world centered on their own consciousness. Limited by his own
demonic processing power, the range and realism of these dreams were finite. It
was a circular region with the "Dreamer" at the center. Within the circle was
the script Enmu wrote. Beyond the boundary, however, lay the dreamer's raw,
chaotic subconscious.
Hidden within that subconscious void was the Spirit Core.
For Enmu, destroying the core meant the dreamer's mind would collapse
permanently. They would become a vegetable. Those with weaker mental stats might
even suffer instant brain death.
Of course, Enmu rarely did this part himself. Risking a close encounter with
Slayers who could fight on pure instinct, or exposing his own spirit core to
someone else's dream, was too risky. He preferred to let his "Collaborators" do
the dirty work.
"So... as long as we use these ropes to link ourselves to them, we can go in?"
"Those swordsmen look really scary..."
"I don't care. If I can see my Yuu-chan one last time, I'd walk into hell
myself."
These were the humans he had broken with his "Happy Dreams." There was a gaunt
man with sunken eyes, a hysterical woman in a daze, and a few rough-looking
thugs. They followed Enmu's orders purely to escape their own pain, see deceased
loved ones, or indulge in their basest desires within the dream-state.
Enmu let out a soft, melodic chuckle. "That's right. But remember, don't just
wander around. Find the Spirit Core and destroy it. Only then will your dreams
last forever."
The humans turned to look at Natsuya's trio.
The tall one and the one with the fox mask both gripped their swords, their
brows furrowed. They looked as if they might snap awake and slaughter everyone
if they took one step closer.
The third Slayer, the one in the custom haori, was even more unsettling. Even
while fast asleep, he was standing perfectly upright. His blade was already
halfway out of its scabbard.
Are... are they actually asleep?
The civilians exchanged nervous glances. No one wanted to go first.
Enmu's smile darkened. "Have you all forgotten what the nightmares feel like?"
He didn't just control these humans with "Carrots." He was, at the end of the
day, a man-eating monster. He had plenty of "Sticks."
"Damn it! To hell with it! They're just kids!"
A burly, scarred thug spat on the ground and grabbed one of the hypnotic ropes.
His face twitched as he mustered his courage and marched toward the sleeping
trio.
However, the moment he stepped within three paces of them...
Outside Mt. Fujikasane (The Dream).
For Sabito, everything—the wisteria, the mountain path—felt familiar, yet wrong.
The air was heavy, almost suffocating. He gripped his Nichirin Sword, shielding
a Slayer he had just rescued.
In the distance, a bloated silhouette draped in countless arms let out a
high-pitched, mocking laugh. The demon was stronger than anything Sabito had
ever imagined.
If I fight this thing alone... I might actually lose.
Alone?
Sabito frowned. He felt like he was forgetting something important.
Giyu. And... someone else... Wait, where is Giyu?
Just then, a figure burst from the treeline. It was Giyu Tomioka! He looked like
he had just spawned into the map. Without a word, Giyu charged the demon with a
look of terminal resolve.
[Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!]
A blade of blue light cut through the mist. But the Hand Demon didn't even
bother to dodge. It swung a massive arm like a bridge beam, slamming it into the
ground in front of Giyu's path. The impact sent up a cloud of debris, throwing
Giyu off-balance.
"Giyu! Don't solo it!" Sabito screamed.
It was too late. The demon's true killing move—a second, hidden arm—erupted from
the soil and clamped around Giyu's waist.
"Crap—GAH!" Giyu coughed up a spray of blood, his sword clattering to the
ground.
Sabito's vision turned red. "GIYU!!"
He ignited his Breathing Style, lunging forward to save his friend, but the Hand
Demon laughed, hoisting the limp Giyu up like a human shield. It blocked every
line of Sabito's attack.
"Don't blame me, little fox," the demon grinned, its face twisting into a mask
of pure cruelty. "Blame that bastard Urokodaki."
The demon's fingers began to tighten around Giyu's ribs. Sabito watched in
horror as Giyu struggled, blood leaking from behind his mask, his eyes beginning
to glaze over.
"S-Sorry... Sabito... I... was useless..."
"LET HIM GO!!" Sabito roared, his voice breaking.
The demon's grin only widened. "Too bad. You should have died together."
The Hand Demon delivered a final, crushing squeeze.
SQUELCH.
The sound of shattering bone and bursting organs echoed in the clearing. Giyu's
body went limp, crushed like a overripe tomato. The demon tossed him aside like
a piece of red, tattered trash.
The body landed in the mud at Sabito's feet.
The world went silent. A thick, supernatural mist rolled in, swallowing
everything until there was only Sabito, the mud, and the cooling corpse of his
best friend.
Sabito's knees gave out. He collapsed into the filth, reaching out with
trembling hands to hold the broken remains of his brother.
"Giyu... No... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
The Shinobi Forest (The Dream).
Even a man as flamboyant and prideful as Uzui Tengen wasn't immune to the
nightmare. He was currently sprinting through a dense forest, his heart
hammering against his ribs.
Behind him were pursuers. Ninjas from his own village. Since the day he decided
to defect, they had followed him like a necrotic rot that wouldn't heal.
What is left to be loyal to?! Uzui thought bitterly. A village that makes
siblings slaughter one another? A place that turns children into clinical,
unfeeling machines?
As he cleared the edge of the forest, a slender figure dropped from the canopy
like a ghost.
It was a young ninja. His face still held the soft roundness of youth, but his
eyes were like stagnant pools of dead water. He leveled a kunai at Uzui's heart.
The kid wasn't particularly strong. His Power Level was low. But Uzui's feet
were frozen to the ground.
Because the person standing in his way was his last living brother.
"Stop. Come back to the village with me."
"弦之介 (Gennosuke)..." Uzui's voice was a ragged whisper.
The younger brother didn't respond. He simply adjusted his stance. It was the
exact "Lethal Strike" posture Uzui had personally taught him.
"Get out of the way, Gennosuke. I don't want to hurt you."
Uzui's voice broke into a rare, desperate plea. "Please..."
The answer was a lightning-fast thrust.
The sounds of clashing steel rang through the woods. The "Executioner" was
incredibly sharp, his moves precise and without hesitation. He aimed for every
vital point, forcing Uzui to parry with 100% of his focus.
They were using the same ancestral techniques, but now, the "Family Style" was
being used to harvest family blood.
"STOP! Why are you still loyal to that hellhole?!"
"Gennosuke! I don't want to kill you!"
But his brother only became more frantic, trading his own safety for a chance to
wound Uzui. In the heat of the exchange, Uzui was pushed into a corner.
In a split second, a gap appeared. Their kunai crossed.
But it was the aggressor who fell.
Uzui's refined muscle memory—the result of a decade of being a top-tier
assassin—had made the choice for him. In the space between life and death, his
body had chosen the most efficient counter. He had driven his blade through his
brother's heart before he could stop himself.
Thud.
Uzui's mind went blank. "No... Gennosuke... I didn't..."
Gennosuke stumbled back, looking down at the hilt buried in his chest.
"As I thought... last time... you were holding back."
The younger brother looked up, his eyes hollow and empty. "Tengen-aniki... from
now on... you are truly alone..."
He collapsed into Uzui's arms.
The ninja stared down at him, clutching the dying boy, his mouth moving but no
sound coming out.
God... if this is a nightmare... please... Let me wake up. LET ME WAKE UP!
In Reality.
Uzui and Sabito were drowning in their own personalized hells. But in the
physical world, their bodies—forged through years of trauma and training—were
still resisting.
The moment the scarred thug stepped into their "Aggro Range" with his hypnotic
rope, their bodies moved automatically.
One of them swept the thug's legs, flooring him instantly. The other's hand shot
out, pinning the man's throat to the ground.
The thug turned pale, screaming for help: "LORD ENMU! SAVE ME! THESE BASTARDS
ARE STILL MOVING!"
"Tch. Two more 'Automatic' fighters," the demon hissed with annoyance.
"Troublesome swordsmen... even in their sleep, they only know how to kill."
☆☆☆
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