He saw a group of short people threatening another group of short people.
Their way of dressing could only be described as "wrapping." The colors were more vibrant than others, and they carried swords at their waists. A leader, whose status was clearly higher than the rest, was using his hand to choke a man wrapped in sackcloth.
It was clear he was trying his hardest to lift the other man with one hand, but unfortunately, his strength didn't support such an arrogant display. On the other side, there was no sign of resistance. Even though the man was turning red from the lack of air, and suffocation could never be pleasant, he didn't fight back.
Instead, as he struggled, he instinctively tried to avoid touching the man choking him, as if making contact were a sin... or perhaps, out of an ingrained, primal fear.
"You bastard! Where is this month's blood! Why hasn't it been handed over!" Perhaps feeling the embarrassment of failing to lift the man, the leader slammed him onto the ground and roared, "Do you want to be sent to the alchemy vats, you piece of trash?!"
Coughing violently, finally regaining the right to breathe but lacking the time to catch his breath, the man on the ground shielded his neck and tried to explain. But all that came out were incessant coughs. Fortunately, someone who seemed to be his companion spoke up for him.
"But Lord, for this month... wasn't this month's already given? Ri-He is really—"
"Don't send us to the vats! Lord!"
Before the companion could finish, the coughing man had already prostrated himself on the ground, repeatedly slamming his forehead against the earth. Within seconds, the ground was stained red.
"Bastard! What are you doing?!" Noticing the red stain, the leader became even more furious. "Don't waste it!"
As he spoke, he yanked the prostrate man up and signaled his subordinates to step forward.
With the glint of a blade, Sū ěr and the others saw a red liquid flowing down the ragged man's arm. It was so thick it didn't even look like blood should. Compared to the wretched state of its owner, this blood seemed like a string of heavy rubies rolling over the skin until it dripped into a vessel the leader pulled from his waist.
Before long, having scraped every last drop from the arm, the leader let out a heavy snort and shoved him away.
No one escaped this process. Soon, the ragged people were clutching their arms and huddling on the ground, motionless.
Satisfied, the leader held up the vessel filled with blood and shook it slightly by his ear. He smiled at the pleasant sound from within, though the smile vanished when he looked back at the people on the ground.
"Don't let me hear your weak words again! If the Lords find out, we'll all be killed! Move!" With that harsh threat, the leader walked away arrogantly, surrounded by his subordinates.
Sū ěr group had stood by from the beginning, seeing everything clearly without being noticed by a single soul. They watched as the group left in a display of power.
"Blood?" Sū ěr asked, turning to Yukari, puzzled by the series of behaviors he had just witnessed.
"Mm... it's blood, or rather, a specific type of energy squeezed out of humans? It's not strictly limited to blood," Yukari frowned in thought. "Strange. Has the situation deteriorated? At least the last time I was in Yamato, it hadn't reached this point..."
Squeezed. That single word sent a wave of speculation through Sū ěr and Think minds, and none of it was positive.
"Is it because of that curse? The curse of Oyamatsumi?" Think asked, her translucent form emerging from Sū ěr body as she reached out to tilt up the jaw of one of the men huddled on the ground.
His breathing was incredibly weak. If she hadn't realized this and lightened her grip instantly, she might have been holding a severed head.
"Yes. My previous descriptions contained no exaggeration. To be honest, out of respect for the power of the gods, my words then were quite reserved." Yukari gave a standard fake smile; clearly, her "respect" for divine power carried little weight.
Whether it was that Tenson with the impossibly long name or his descendants—those Shinjin whose blood became increasingly impure after generations of interbreeding—they were all clutching at any rope they could find to survive the curse of mortality.
"Frantically searching for anything that can resist the curse and extend their lives, frantically practicing methods that even youkai would call cruel... that is the root of human suffering under the rule of Yamato." Those were Yukari exact words.
So, she had been conservative?
"...Let's follow them and see. I'm a bit curious," Sū ěr said, much more calmly than Yukari had expected.
"If you want to go where they take the blood, there's no rush. I've already scouted out what's here during my previous explorations... but Sū ěr, have you really decided which side you stand on?" Yukari didn't follow him immediately; Yuuka also stood still. Yukari asked with a smile.
"...What will happen to them?" After a moment of silence, Sū ěr didn't answer the question. He only turned slightly, his gaze drifting over the people huddled on the earth—bodies that were stiff as corpses despite being bathed in the winter sun.
"If you had asked me a few years ago when I was last here, I would have told you they are the property... or the tools of the gods and Shinjin. The name doesn't matter. Regardless, you protect your property, don't you? Like that bamboo cottage? Or you repair a worn-out tool so it can serve a little longer..." The smile on Yukari face remained unchanged.
"And now?"
"I don't know," Yukari replied frankly and succinctly, wearing a troubled expression. "After all, a tool is just a tool... and there are always new ones, aren't there?"
"..."
Silence. Sū ěr found himself with nothing to say to such a reality. He could only turn and walk in the direction the group had gone. Think spirit form watched the blonde youkai who had posed the question.
"He only stands on my side."