Late into the night, Kamado Takeo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Ever since he learned the truth of this world, sleep had become a luxury.
Too many thoughts clawed at his mind.
He considered reaching out to the ghost hunter.
He considered disappearing, living in seclusion to avoid conflict.
He even thought of fleeing the country entirely.
But in the end, he made his decision.
Takeo sat up, eyes clear.
He would find the ghost hunter. He needed answers.
Not just about what was happening—but about how this world worked. Before anything else, he had to learn the local cultivation methods, the path of power unique to this reality.
Yes, he had Wolverine's abilities. Enhanced healing. Heightened senses. Combat prowess.
But against creatures as strong as these so-called "ghosts"…?
That wouldn't be enough.
He had to find a way to fight in this world, not just survive.
During the day, Takeo had memorized the ghost hunter's scent.
Now, in the cold silence of night, he tracked it with pinpoint precision.
A faint trail of blood lingered in the air. Fresh.
And blood, at this volume, could only mean one thing: someone was seriously hurt.
The signs were clear. The tension in the air. The smell of blood, sharp and metallic.
His expression hardened.
He tightened his grip on the sword gifted by the wealthy merchant and crept toward the scent's origin.
As he approached a warehouse near the stern, Takeo's nose caught two more distinct scents—
The ghost hunter. And…
Azukichō.
"!!"
The boy?!
Panic surged.
Takeo's walk turned into a sprint.
He reached the warehouse door and kicked it open without hesitation.
SLAM!
And froze.
Blood.
Blood soaked the ground, splashed across the walls, staining crates and floorboards alike.
Before he could react, a low voice echoed through the gloom:
"Oh? Another one. Good timing... more flesh means faster recovery."
The thing that spoke crouched in the shadows.
A blue-skinned creature, its skin tattooed with watery swirls, horns jutting from its head like coral. A water demon—half-submerged, its claws glinting wet in the dim light.
The moment it saw Takeo, it snarled and lunged.
"Too late!!"
The ghost hunter was already charging forward, wounded and limping. But no matter how fast he moved, he wouldn't make it in time.
Takeo stood between the demon and the child.
The creature's claws were nearly upon him when—
He ducked.
In a blink, he twisted his torso and slipped beneath the strike. The demon's claws sliced the air where he'd just stood.
The ghost hunter's eyes widened.
So did the demon's.
"Wha—?!"
Takeo didn't press the attack.
Instead, he pivoted away from the demon and ran past, ignoring the monster entirely as he rushed toward the bloodied child lying in a crimson puddle on the floor.
"Azukichō! What happened?!"
He knelt, cradling the boy's tiny frame. The warmth was already draining from his skin.
Breath shallow. Bleeding fast.
Takeo shouted over his shoulder.
"What the hell happened?!"
The ghost hunter's voice was grim.
"The kid got caught by the ghost. Nearly eaten. I got here in time to stop it, barely…"
Takeo scanned Azukichō's injuries.
There—a deep bite on the shoulder. Not fatal… but close.
Arteries untouched, but the blood loss was massive.
He needed a doctor.
Now.
The demon, watching carefully, hesitated. For all its bravado, it didn't charge again.
It had sensed the killing intent in Takeo's earlier motion. That hesitation gave them a precious window.
"Little brother," the ghost hunter said urgently, "I'll hold it off. Take the boy and run. Find help."
He gestured toward the exit, blood dripping from his own arm and leg.
"Don't stop until you reach someone who can help. Can you do that?"
Takeo looked at the ghost hunter's wounds.
He wouldn't last long.
If he died here, even if Takeo escaped with Azukichō, they wouldn't get far.
Takeo made a decision.
In a single motion, he wrapped the boy's wounds in cloth, applied pressure to slow the bleeding, then laid him gently against a crate.
He stood.
Tightened his grip on his blade.
And stepped beside the ghost hunter.
"I don't know what's going on—but I can fight."
The hunter blinked.
Takeo nodded.
"These things—these ghosts—heal like monsters. I know that much. Like my own abilities. No matter how much you cut them, it doesn't matter unless you know how to finish them."
"But I can buy you time. You know how to kill it… don't you?"
He smiled.
The ghost hunter stared at him for a breath, unsure.
Then—
The ground rumbled.
THUD.
The water demon let out a low growl.
It raised one claw, and slammed its foot down—
SHLSSSSSSHH!
A surge of water erupted beneath it, condensing into two razor-sharp blades that shimmered like liquid glass.
One blade shot toward the ghost hunter.
The other—straight at Takeo.
Author's Note:
A boy bleeding out. A ghost that commands water. And a swordsman with claws who still doesn't know how to kill the dead. The warehouse becomes a battlefield—and Kamado Takeo is done running.