Chapter 25 — The Sanmonji Bookshop
"Mr. Asuka, this is the place."
Asano Mori weaved through the busy streets of Sendai with Asuka following behind. At last, he stopped in front of a modest storefront that could easily be overlooked.
He pointed up at the weather-worn wooden sign hanging above the door. Carved into it:
Sanmonji.
Asuka glanced around the somewhat desolate street, a faint sense of confusion stirring inside him.
Whether in Rukongai in his past life or later at Hayama, Asuka had never truly read a book. In truth, he was practically illiterate.
In his imagination, a bookstore was the sort of place frequented by wealthy scholars in fine robes, or refined young ladies and gentlemen. At the very least, it wasn't somewhere a stray dog like him should be walking into.
The door of the shop stood half open. From inside drifted the mixed smell of cheap tobacco, low-grade tea, and ink-stained paper.
Asano Mori stepped forward first, lifting the curtain and entering. Asuka followed behind, subtly adjusting his posture so the outline of his Nichirin blade wouldn't draw attention.
Inside, the lighting was dim.
Most of the walls were taken up by towering bookshelves that nearly touched the ceiling, crammed tightly with countless books.
In every bit of free space the shop could spare, rough wooden tables and long benches had been placed. And they were packed with people.
Asuka's eyes flickered with surprise.
The "readers" before him looked nothing like what he had imagined.
Some were burly men wearing indigo or rough brown work clothes. Others were pale-faced students in patched uniforms. A few looked like ordinary townsfolk who had simply wandered in to join the crowd.
Some even held their books upside down, clearly not reading them at all.
They gulped tea from coarse porcelain bowls, gnawed on cold rice balls, and more often than not gathered in heated clusters—arguing passionately about something, voices raised and spittle flying.
A bookstore?
To Asuka, it felt more like a roadside tavern.
Sensing Asuka's confusion, Asano Mori leaned closer and whispered:
"Pretty different, right, Mr. Asuka? Sanmonji isn't a place for the rich to leisurely read books. It's more like… a gathering place. The owner—well, he's a very unusual rich man."
He pointed at the large "三" character displayed inside the shop.
"I heard he's opened shops in Tokyo, Osaka, and other cities too—all called Sanmonji Bookshop. They're meant for people like us… people who don't fit in with the mainstream voices. People who can't afford school, who have nowhere to go, whose opinions no one wants to hear."
Though Asano Mori was older than Asuka, he was easily excitable, his emotions quick to rise.
He gestured enthusiastically toward the crowd of intense faces.
"Everyone gathers here—to complain, to think of solutions. Over time the place just kept growing!"
Then he added with obvious pride:
"Brother Harada's articles? They were printed here as pamphlets and distributed from this very place!"
Asuka listened in silence, his gaze sweeping across the people inside the shop. His face remained expressionless.
It didn't matter.
He didn't care what ideals or visions these people held. He had come here to find Harada Tadakazu, and his real objective was to eliminate the demon lurking in Sendai.
Everything else was irrelevant.
"Let's get to the point," he said flatly.
Led by Asano Mori, he threaded through the tightly packed tables, squeezing past benches that left barely enough room to walk. Asuka's attention drifted over the readers around him.
A bespectacled student with round glasses was quietly reading aloud:
"...When I opened the history books and examined them closely, I found they had no dates. On every crooked page were the words 'benevolence and morality.'
I couldn't sleep, so I read through the night—until at last I saw what was hidden between the lines.
The entire book contained only two words: 'Eat people.'"
Someone nearby muttered with admiration.
"That's powerful writing. Must be a foreign work."
"Yeah. It's by Zhou. He studied here in Sendai before—has some connection with the shop's owner. Amazing writing…"
Asuka showed no interest. He simply followed Asano Mori deeper into the bookstore.
At the very back was a quieter corner. A small desk sat there, looking almost like a cashier's counter, and behind it sat a young girl.
She looked about seventeen or eighteen. She wore a neat navy-blue patterned kimono with a plain apron over it. Her hair was combed carefully and tied behind her head, revealing a smooth forehead and gentle features.
"Miss Yuka, excuse us."
Asano Mori clearly knew her. He stepped forward and gave a respectful bow.
The girl called Yuka looked up. When she saw him, a warm smile appeared on her face.
"Oh—Mr. Asano. How is your brother? Has his illness improved?"
"My brother… he passed away…"
"What? I—I'm so sorry… please accept my condolences."
She bowed quickly in apology, then noticed the black-clad young man standing behind Asano Mori.
Asano Mori rubbed his head awkwardly, forcing down the sadness in his chest.
"This is Mr. Asuka. He's… from the Demon Slayer Corps. We came to find Harada Tadakazu."
"The Demon Slayer Corps? Demons?"
Yuka's eyes widened slightly as she examined Asuka more carefully.
Having read widely and seen much of the world through books, she knew the world was vast and full of strange stories. Tales of demons and spirits didn't surprise her much—but her upbringing kept her from openly questioning Asano Mori.
Instead, she simply nodded politely toward Asuka.
Understanding their purpose, she set aside the booklet in her hands and folded her hands neatly on her knees.
"Mr. Harada will come by tonight," she said gently to Asano Mori. "If you wait a little while, you should see him."
She sighed softly.
"As you know, rice prices have been soaring recently. Life has become very difficult for everyone. I've heard that in southern cities there have already been riots over rice. These are troubled times…"
"Mr. Harada plans to discuss solutions with everyone tonight," she continued. "Whether it's putting pressure on the rice merchants again or pushing the city council to act—anything that might ease people's lives."
She glanced at the wall clock.
"He should arrive in about an hour."
"Thank you, Miss Yuka!" Asano Mori let out a long breath of relief and thanked her quickly.
Asuka simply nodded.
The two of them sat on the bench she indicated. Asuka instinctively chose the seat against the wall—where he could see the entire shop.
His hand rested lightly on the guard of his sword as his calm gaze swept the room.
Time passed slowly amid the unique bustle of the bookshop.
The workers' discussions rose and fell like waves. Most of the topics meant nothing to Asuka.
"Have you heard? Osaka's even worse now—military police have been deployed!"
"Sigh… life's unbearable these days. Mr. Harada's right. If we workers don't unite, those bloodsucking bosses will keep treating us like livestock!"
"The owner of Sanmonji really is a good man, letting us gather and speak here."
"Of course! I heard the owner's son—Mr. Nosaka—is even more active in Tokyo. The owner renamed all his bookstores 'Sanmonji' to support his son's cause."
"I see… no wonder. Mr. Nosaka must be an extraordinary person."
"These are hard times… hopefully Mr. Harada brings good news tonight."
These social issues felt distant to someone like Asuka, whose world revolved around the sword.
But from their scattered conversations, he confirmed his suspicion—
Harada Tadakazu was almost certainly a thorn in someone's side.
While waiting, Asuka idly flipped through an old book he couldn't read. Yuka kindly explained the meaning of a few lines of poetry and later brought two cups of coarse tea, placing them on the small table before them.
"Please, have some. It's only simple tea," she said gently. Her gaze briefly lingered on the sword hidden at Asuka's waist before drifting away.
Asano Mori quickly thanked her.
Asuka merely glanced at the steaming cup but didn't touch it.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
His spiritual pressure quietly spread outward, his senses extending like an invisible spiderweb around him.
For now, he detected no clear demonic aura or hostile spiritual presence.
Everyone gathered here carried the spiritual signatures of ordinary humans—some vibrant, some weary, but human nonetheless.
As for the girl named Yuka, her spiritual pressure was calm and pure, carrying a tranquil presence that felt oddly comforting.
But then—
As his senses brushed past a corner near the bookstore's back door…
He caught it.
A faint, icy trace of something sinister.
It flickered for only an instant—so faint it was almost impossible to notice—before vanishing without a trace.
…Has it arrived?
Asuka's eyes snapped open.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.