The street had already stopped looking like a street.
Cracks spread across the asphalt.
Blood painted the ground.
Frost crept slowly over broken surfaces.
Black strands of hair sliced through the air like blades.
Everywhere—
Screams.
Shadows.
Movement.
Chaos.
And in the middle of it—
Rishiro and Kenta kept moving.
Yuki-onna raised one pale hand.
The temperature dropped instantly.
The air itself froze.
A wave of frost burst outward—
Fast.
Wide.
Unavoidable.
Kenta clicked his tongue and twisted aside, both blades crossing to block—
But the ice bent.
Shifted.
Like it was alive.
It curved—
Straight toward his side.
Too sudden.
Too precise.
Then—
SHRRK
Rishiro's jagged blade tore through it.
Before it could touch him.
Ice shattered across the street.
Fragments scattering like broken glass.
Kenta slid back slightly and glanced sideways.
"…You trying to impress me?"
Rishiro didn't look at him.
"…Your favor's over."
A pause.
"…We're even."
Kenta stared at him for half a second.
Then—
He laughed.
"…You really kept count."
"…Obviously."
Futakuchi-onna smiled wider.
Her hair shifted.
The second mouth beneath it moved—
Hungry.
Watching.
"…How cute."
The next instant—
Her hair shot out.
Three directions.
Fast.
Sharp.
Kenta cut one.
Dodged the second.
The third—
Went straight for his neck.
Rishiro stepped in.
CLANG—SHRK
Steel flashed.
Black strands split apart.
Kenta exhaled slowly.
"…You really do save people in the rudest way possible."
"…You talk too much."
Yuki-onna moved.
Silent.
Her white sleeves drifted through the freezing air.
Her fingers reached forward.
The ground cracked.
Ice spread rapidly.
Rishiro ducked low—
Slashed upward.
Kenta crossed past him from the right—
Both blades screaming through the air.
One attacked.
The other opened space.
Then—
They switched.
Again.
And again.
No trust.
No coordination.
No teamwork.
Just—
Rhythm.
A dangerous rhythm.
And for a moment—
Even the two yokai stopped smiling so easily.
Then—
Something else entered the battlefield.
A shadow.
Long.
Low.
Silent.
It slipped across the street.
Between broken cars.
Through debris.
Then—
It raised its head.
Nozuchi.
Its body coiled slowly.
Eyes empty.
Reflecting the city lights without emotion.
Watching.
Calculating.
Tatsuma's grin dropped slightly.
"…Ah."
A pause.
"…That's not good."
Kenta's smirk thinned.
"…Three leaders at once…"
Yuki-onna.
Futakuchi-onna.
Nozuchi.
The pressure changed instantly.
Heavier.
Sharper.
Even the air felt tighter.
Like breathing required effort.
Rishiro looked at the three of them.
Silent.
Still.
Then—
He exhaled once.
"…Oi, Kenta."
Kenta didn't look away from the yokai.
"…What."
Rishiro rested the jagged blade on his shoulder.
Casual.
Relaxed.
"…You guys can handle this, right?"
A pause.
Tatsuma blinked.
"…Huh?"
Kenta frowned.
"…What do you mean, 'you guys'?"
A faint grin pulled at Rishiro's mouth.
Lazy.
Annoying.
"…I got work."
And then—
He vanished.
No sound.
No warning.
Gone.
Kenta's eye twitched.
"…That bastard."
Tatsuma stared for a second.
Then—
Grinned again.
"…Boss, this just means he trusts us!"
Silence.
Kenta looked at him.
Flat.
"…You really are an idiot."
Tatsuma laughed.
"…But a loyal one!"
Before Kenta could respond—
Two more figures dropped in.
Maru landed first.
Katana already drawn.
Eyes sharp.
Daichi hit the ground beside her.
Axe resting on his shoulder.
Ready.
Maru clicked her tongue.
"…Tch. That idiot really just left."
Daichi let out a breath.
"…I swear he always does this at the worst time."
Kenta glanced at them.
Smirk returning.
"…Aw. You came to help me?"
Maru's eyes hardened instantly.
"…Don't misunderstand."
A pause.
"…I'm just cleaning up his mess."
Tatsuma laughed loudly.
"…Boss, his friends are scary too."
Daichi stepped forward, rolling his shoulder.
"…Can we kill the snake first?"
Kenta's grin widened.
"…Now this is getting interesting."
The battlefield split.
Farther down the city—
Things were quieter.
Which made it worse.
No chaos.
No noise.
Just—
Fear.
Bodies lay across the road.
Some still.
Some crawling.
Some kneeling.
Begging.
At the center—
A massive figure stood.
Still.
Calm.
A giant monk.
His staff rested against the ground.
Each slow tap—
Echoed.
Deep.
Heavy.
Like a funeral bell.
Umi-zato.
Above—
A massive shape crouched in the darkness.
Hair covering its entire body.
Eyes gleaming faintly beneath it.
Watching.
Waiting.
Otoroshi.
A man pressed his forehead to the ground.
"…Please…"
"…Please spare us…"
Another survivor cried uncontrollably.
"…We won't fight…"
"…Please…"
Otoroshi let out a low, ugly laugh.
The monk looked down.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Just—
Calm.
Which made it worse.
"…Mercy?" he said quietly.
His voice rolled across the street.
Deep.
Heavy.
"…What a soft word."
One survivor looked up, shaking.
"…W-We have families…"
The monk tilted his head slightly.
"…And yet you still stepped into the dark."
A pause.
Then—
Otoroshi laughed again.
Louder.
Mocking.
"…Humans really do know how to beg."
The monk lifted his staff.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Almost politely.
"…Then pray."
"…Perhaps it will ease your fear."
The survivors flinched.
One screamed.
Then—
The air changed.
Instantly.
Otoroshi stopped laughing.
The monk fell silent.
Something—
Had entered.
From above—
A figure dropped.
Cutting through the darkness.
Dark cloak.
White mask.
Red lines across it like scars.
He landed between the yokai and the survivors.
THUD
Dust exploded outward.
The ground cracked beneath him.
No one moved.
The survivors stared.
Frozen.
The monk's eyes narrowed.
Otoroshi leaned forward slightly.
Interested.
The figure straightened slowly.
Calm.
Unrushed.
Then—
He lifted his blade.
And just like that—
The atmosphere changed.
Lie Hunter had arrived.
End of Chapter 35