Horitake excitedly shared his breakthrough idea with Mitsuri.
Caught off guard by his sudden hug, Mitsuri's cheeks flushed red, her shyness leaving her dazed.
But upon hearing his plan, her surprise turned to joy, and she instinctively hugged him back.
The two clung to each other, buzzing with shared excitement.
This was, technically, their first embrace—a moment worth celebrating.
But it wasn't romantic. It was the thrill of a new idea, leading to a jubilant hug-and-jump fest.
No matter—there'd be plenty of chances for more hugs later.
Fueled by excitement, Horitake and Mitsuri set out to capture another demon.
The twenty-seventh demon, the twenty-seventh experiment.
As usual, Horitake used his lightning to trap the black gaseous curse.
Instead of eroding it, he wrapped it in lightning and retracted it, pulling the curse out of the demon's body!
It worked!
But extracting the curse still stimulated and damaged the demon's body.
Using Spirit Vision, Horitake observed that the damage was less than when eroding the curse.
He grinned.
My idea was right. I've found the correct method.
The twenty-seventh experiment was a partial success.
The demon was heavily injured by the lightning but didn't die, so it wasn't a complete victory.
Horitake figured that this level of damage, applied to Ubuyashiki's frail body, would be too much.
Still, a partial success.
The demon, now curse-free and useless, was swiftly dispatched by Horitake.
The experiment worked, but he needed more practice—ideally, extracting the curse with minimal bodily harm.
More demons to catch!
The twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, thirtieth, thirty-first…
From the twenty-seventh onward, no demon died during curse extraction, though their bodies sustained varying degrees of damage.
After each practice, Horitake naturally killed the now-useless demons—no need to dwell on that.
With each attempt, he grew more skilled, reducing the damage to the demons' bodies during extraction.
Practice makes perfect.
Finally, he reached a point where extracting the curse caused only minor bodily harm.
Tonight, it was the forty-sixth demon for practice.
Horitake had a hunch he'd achieve a new breakthrough.
Usually, he practiced alone while Mitsuri hunted nearby demons. But tonight, with only one demon within a hundred miles, Mitsuri had time to watch.
This was her first time observing since the twenty-seventh experiment.
She'd heard Horitake could extract curses but had been too busy slaying demons to watch. Tonight, her curiosity would be satisfied.
Mitsuri waited in a temporary shelter in the forest.
Soon, she heard footsteps. Horitake returned, dragging a pitiful-looking demon.
"Horitake-nii, is this tonight's practice material?"
Mitsuri's tone had a touch of dark humor, calling the demon "material" rather than a creature—a sign she now dismissed weak demons with disdain.
Horitake tossed the limp demon onto the table, chuckling.
"Yup. I've got a feeling tonight's work will reach a new level."
"Are you starting now?"
"Right away."
"Awesome! I finally get to see it up close!"
As Horitake and Mitsuri bantered, the demon on the table was overwhelmed with dread.
It had been an ordinary demon, preying on hunters and travelers, thinking itself king of this mountain. Then it met its match.
This demon hunter was terrifyingly strong! One clash, and it was defeated!
Worse, the man's lightning was unique—its wounds wouldn't heal, nullifying its prized regeneration.
The shadow of death loomed over it for the first time.
If it had been killed outright, fine—at least it'd be quick.
But this hunter didn't kill it. He crippled and captured it, dragging it here for who-knows-what.
Their words—"practice material," "work"—were about it!
What were these two? Was it caught by some evil scientist? Was it doomed to be an experiment?
The demon's wild fears weren't far from the truth.
Horitake and Mitsuri stood on opposite sides of the table, eyeing the demon not as a living thing but as an object.
Sensing their chilling gazes, the demon's panic deepened.
Unable to escape or speak, it could only gape, letting out meaningless wails.
Mitsuri leaned in, asking Horitake, "Horitake-nii, did you dislocate its jaw?"
"Yup. Some demons scream too loudly, others curse too nastily, so I pop their jaws first. Keeps things quiet."
The demon's heart sank halfway at this exchange.
"Horitake-nii, how'd you immobilize it? Break its limbs?"
"Nah. Even if you chop them into a stick, they'll wriggle like maggots. So I shatter their cervical spine with lightning. Everything below the neck stops moving."
"Oh, I see."
The demon's heart sank three-quarters.
"Horitake-nii, why use such weak demons? Shouldn't you practice on stronger ones?"
"You've got it backward.
Consider our goal: dispelling Lord Ubuyashiki's curse. Demons are just a means to practice.
Even the weakest demon's physique far surpasses a human's, and Lord Ubuyashiki's is weaker than most.
I use the weakest demons possible—their bodies are closer to his, so practicing on them feels more realistic, like extracting a curse from a human."
"Oh, right!"
The demon didn't fully understand their talk, but it didn't stop its terror. Its heart was ice-cold.
Mitsuri watched from one side, Horitake prepared on the other, the demon trapped on the table.
Horitake rolled up his sleeves, ready to begin.
The gesture was eerily like a surgeon donning gloves.
The demon, sprawled helplessly, resembled livestock awaiting slaughter.
In that moment, the auras of a doctor and a butcher merged in Horitake, lending him an unsettling, terrifying presence.
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