"Recently, all the wounded with injuries like these were attacked in the legs, and none of them had time to send a signal beforehand. It's as if they were attacked completely without realizing it," Satsuki said, placing the beetle back onto the tree. "Most of the lower mountain area is covered in shrubs. From my observation, you often transport yokai corpses along several fixed routes through those paths."
"What does that prove?" the chief asked.
"Shrub thickets are the ideal habitat for this type of beetle. And the remains of yokai you leave scattered there would provide exactly the right conditions for their transformation into yokai, wouldn't they?" Satsuki smiled faintly. "Of course, as an experienced demon-hunter chief, you might have other explanations."
The chief scratched his head awkwardly. While he did have plenty of experience hunting yokai, the specifics of which insects thrived in which environments had never been his concern. To him, the wilderness all looked the same.
"My apologies, Miss Satsuki. I just thought... if it were really beetles, our demon-hunting squads shouldn't have failed to find them during our searches."
"How exactly did you search?"
"We centered our searches around the wounded men and combed through the nearby clearings and shrubs for any sign of a creature capable of such attacks, but we found nothing. Even Kirara didn't detect anything."
"Kirara?" Satsuki's golden eyes drifted toward a rooftop on the far side of the village, where a small, white-furred two-tailed nekomata was lazily yawning in the sunlight.
"You didn't think to dig around the area where the victims were found? Do you think all giant beetles live in trees?"
Satsuki's tone carried faint disappointment. "The soil in the wild isn't like that of the Demon-Hunting Village—it hasn't been leveled or blessed by protective barriers."
"Ah?" The chief blinked, then slapped his forehead. "Ah, I didn't think of that at all!"
Just then, Old Man Baishao approached from the crowd behind them.
"Thanks to your help, Miss Satsuki, their wounds have been cleaned, and they've taken the medicine. Will you be treating them the usual way?"
"Yes, let me try."
Satsuki nodded, turning to the demon-hunter chief. "That's about all the information I can give you."
With that, she turned and headed back toward the open ground. For some reason, there were even more people gathered there now than before.
"Everyone, make some room—Miss Satsuki is going to treat the patients."
At Old Man Baishao's words, the demon hunters inside the crowded space quickly stepped aside, clearing a path for Satsuki to approach the wounded men.
A faint light flashed in Satsuki's golden Tenseigan as she used its power to examine the patients' physical condition.
"The toxin has already entered their internal organs, but it's not particularly strong. The herbal mixture has already suppressed most of the poison. A few days of rest should be enough for recovery."
Satsuki crouched beside the most severely injured man, placing her hand over his chest. In the astonished gasps of the onlookers, a soft blue glow radiated from beneath her wide sleeve, bathing the wounded in light. Before their eyes, the horrific wounds began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Had anyone looked closely, they would have noticed that even the near-necrotic muscle tissue miraculously regenerated to its normal state.
The surrounding crowd looked at Satsuki with awe as she and Ruri left the area. Though this was not the first time they had witnessed such a scene, they still could not help but sigh in admiration.
"Miss Satsuki is amazing! There's no injury she can't heal! And she's so beautiful—if only she'd come to our village earlier!"
"I bet she's from the Kinai region—the most prosperous area in the realm. Where else could someone so kind and refined come from?"
"I think she must be a shrine maiden! But one this young with such powerful spiritual energy... that's really rare!"
The villagers chattered among themselves, all singing praises of Satsuki.
Meanwhile, on the other side, several upper-ranked demon hunters had gathered together, and the chief was briefing them on the information Satsuki had just shared.
But before long, the conversation shifted from the beetle... to Satsuki herself.
"Hey, Chief! I remember it was you who brought her to the village, right? Do you know where she came from?"
A young demon hunter asked quietly, his face turning crimson the moment the words left his mouth.
Around the chief, several men of similar age stared eagerly, eyes filled with curiosity—and, in a few cases, thinly veiled envy and jealousy.
The chief, still carrying his massive weapon, the Flying Bone, blushed as well. He stammered, "...At the time, I had just finished a yokai extermination mission in another village. On my way back, I happened to see her by the roadside. She and that child were standing... on the surface of a river. I actually thought she was a yokai at first—after all, how else could someone stand on water?"
"How could Miss Satsuki and Ruri possibly be yokai?"
"Exactly! I bet the chief was just stunned by Miss Satsuki's beauty and couldn't tell up from down!"
At that, the group of demon hunters burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Well, it was already late, and the moonlight was the only source of illumination. When it shone down on Miss Satsuki, everything around her seemed like part of a dream. So I don't think it's strange that I was mistaken," the chief said defensively, looking embarrassed. "Anyway, after that, I brought the two of them back here. They never told me anything about their past, and the rest... well, you all know that part."
The young demon hunters around him clearly didn't believe the story, while several of the older, retired villagers simply chuckled. It had been a long time since the village had felt this lively.
Still, the simple-hearted villagers were deeply grateful to the young woman who had settled among them not long ago. She embodied every virtue they could name—beauty, kindness, grace, intelligence, and compassion. Even these usually guarded demon hunters had quickly grown to accept her.
"Hmph! I wouldn't be so sure! Maybe she's a wandering shrine maiden who fled from some omen—or worse, a notorious black priestess!"
A mocking voice rang out from the far end of the village. A young man with a dusting of white powder on his face—giving him an androgynous, almost effeminate look—approached with several samurai guards in tow.
He wore a blue kimono emblazoned with the emblem of the Takeda clan on his sleeves and sash. His expression was haughty as he looked down on the demon hunters around him, curling his lip in disdain as if surrounded by peasants.
"Amari Kento..." muttered one of the young demon hunters, glaring at the newcomer. The others followed suit with hostile eyes, while many of the ordinary villagers turned their backs in silent disapproval.
"Amari Kento..." The moment the young demon hunters saw him, their faces darkened with hostility, while the ordinary villagers quietly turned their backs.
Amari Kento was the son of the daimyo of Kai Province, the closest domain to the Demon-Hunting Village—making him, by status, a true "noble."
His father, the lord of Kai, was actually a decent man—merciful and fair to his people, even during this chaotic Sengoku era. Taxes were light, conscription minimal, and the people generally content. But that same leniency had weakened Kai's military strength, forcing the lord to drown himself daily in political affairs, leaving no time to properly discipline his only son.
As a result, surrounded by sycophants and flattery, Amari Kento grew up spoiled and arrogant. Ordinary folk could only resent him in silence.
But his entitled attitude had met its match in the Demon-Hunting Village.
Here lived hardened men and women who made their living by slaying yokai and collecting bounties. To them, rank and birth meant nothing—a blade was the only authority that mattered.
"Lord Amari! How can you say something like that? Anyone can tell Miss Satsuki's no ordinary person! Watch your tongue!" a young demon hunter snapped.
The samurai behind Amari immediately stepped forward, one hand gripping his katana as he barked, "Watch your tone, peasant. You're speaking to a noble."
"Hm?"
The instant those words were spoken, every demon hunter present turned their gaze toward the samurai—eyes sharp and dangerous.
These were men and women who had fought yokai for years. The murderous intent radiating from them was something no pampered samurai could compare to. Their equipment—crafted from yokai materials—was leagues beyond anything a provincial soldier possessed.
If a fight broke out, Amari's entourage wouldn't stand a chance.
Despite his arrogance, the young lord wasn't entirely a fool. He quickly raised a hand, halting his subordinates, and sneered, "Heh... Everyone knows the Kinai region has been ravaged by great yokai lately. Even the most renowned shrine maidens and exorcists have been conscripted into the war. What if this so-called 'Satsuki the Shrine Maiden' simply fled in fear? People escaping along the river are hardly rare these days. Maybe she was noble once—but now she's nothing more than a refugee under my father's protection."
Smug at what he thought was a clever retort, Amari let a smirk curl across his lips. Striding forward, he stopped at Satsuki's house and lifted his leg, ready to kick open the wooden door.
But before he could act, someone grabbed his collar from behind. Before he could react, he was yanked back hard, stumbling and crashing to the ground—eliciting roaring laughter from the surrounding demon hunters.
"Who dares lay a hand on me—?!" Amari shrieked in his nasal, indignant tone.
A tall shadow loomed over him.
"Oh, so it's you," Amari hissed as he looked up. "Our Demon-Hunter Chief—Meo, isn't it? What's this? You won't let me in? I'm here on my father's behalf! He said to check if your little village needed any assistance. Is this how you treat your guests?"
Meo's voice was cold. "There's no need to trouble Lord Amari's father. Miss Satsuki just finished treating the wounded and needs rest. Please do not disturb her."
As the chief of the Demon-Hunting Village, Meo was far more formidable than any of the samurai before him. He still wore his tight black battle suit, covered by armor made from yokai bones. A respirator covered his mouth, and the massive Flying Bone was strapped to his back.
In this era, among ordinary humans, he was the equivalent of a living "Terminator."
With Kirara—the two-tailed nekomata capable of flight—by his side, Meo alone could take on a small army.
"You and your men sure have guts!" Amari Kento growled as he climbed to his feet, brushing dust from his blue kimono. His eyes flashed with resentment. "Fine then! Don't say I didn't offer my help! My family spent quite a lot maintaining this village's privileges—don't come crawling back when you regret it!"
He turned sharply. "We're leaving!"
As Amari stormed off, one of his samurai leaned in and whispered, "My lord... are we really just leaving like this? We finally found an opportunity like this..."
"Hmph, what's there to be afraid of?" Amari Kento said darkly. "If I just keep harassing her, she'll get tired of this place and leave. Once she's gone, I'll have all the time in the world."
With that, his group strode out of the village, indifferent to the furious stares of those around them.
...
"Host, that guy's caused trouble here three times already. Are you really just going to let him wander around, pestering you like that?"
Inside the house, the woman the villagers called "perfect in every way"—Satsuki—sat silently on a tatami mat on the second floor, her face expressionless and cold. The one speaking was, of course, Ruri.
Satsuki calmly poured herself a cup of tea, her movements unhurried. "He's just a man with little time left to live. Do I really need to bother with him?"
Taking a slow sip of floral tea, she asked lightly, "How's the data processing going from the yokai energy you collected off those wounds?"
Yokai energy—by the standards of the shinobi world—could be considered a variation of natural energy.
During her time here, Satsuki had not only been adjusting the divine wheel embedded in her wrist to this world's laws but also conducting a different sort of experiment altogether. The environment surrounding the Demon-Hunting Village happened to be ideal for her purposes, so she had chosen to stay.
"Almost done," Ruri replied. "After several months of observation, I can confirm that Experimental Subject No. 39 has completely regressed into a yokaiized state. From the readings, it's just a slightly mutated beetle. Still, your yokai suppression experiment has finally made some progress."
"As expected," Satsuki murmured.
"By the way..." Glyphs and sigils flashed briefly within Ruri's eyes. "This world seems to possess not only yokai energy but also other systems of power—spiritual energy and magical energy. Host, are you interested in studying them?"
"Not yet. Focus on completing the yokai suppression research first," Satsuki said, setting her teacup down. Standing, she gazed out the window, her Tenseigan glimmering faintly as it peered beyond sight. "The essence of this world is quite fascinating. I have plenty of time to unravel it at my own pace."
"Understood. Since you already have a plan, I won't interfere," Ruri replied.
With that, the small figure beside her closed its eyes and entered standby mode.
Although it could now sustain its physical form by absorbing ambient energy, its rate of absorption was still insufficient to match its energy expenditure. Unless necessary, Ruri always chose to remain dormant.
This time, however, Satsuki had needed the system to collect information from the yokai-tainted wounds—hence its presence at her side.
What no one in the village suspected was that the mysterious culprit who had attacked so many demon hunters... was none other than the result of one of Satsuki's minor experiments in this world.
Once, it had been an old yokai—ancient and powerful, lurking deep underground for centuries. Unfortunately for it, it had become Satsuki's test subject for a new function of her Vipralopa energy.
Now, the once-mighty creature had been almost completely reduced—its yokai form regressed to that of an insect. Soon, it would likely become nothing more than an ordinary beetle.
As for those demon hunters "unlucky" enough to have been bitten by that beetle, they would gradually discover that their bodies were changing—growing stronger, faster, more resilient. In time, after surviving the adaptation period, some of them would even be able to face low-level yokai head-on without faltering.
In a sense, this was Satsuki's little gift to the villagers who had taken her in.
Satsuki and the so-called black shrine maidens both studied the power of yokai—but their visions, methods, and goals were worlds apart.
She chuckled softly to herself. "From a certain point of view, that young lord wasn't entirely wrong—my work really isn't so different from that of a 'black shrine maiden.'"
"—But Host, you're not the kind of person who cares about that," Ruri's voice interjected, even in standby mode, striking as always.
A faint laugh echoed through the quiet room.
"Indeed," Satsuki replied.