"..."
Silence fell.
Annoyance flickered in Daki's eyes.
As Upper Rank Six, she was used to ruling the Yoshiwara pleasure district without anyone daring to defy her.
Since when had a mere human dared talk back to her?
"Brat, it seems Lord Doma has spoiled you rotten."
Daki slowly rose to her feet. Her once-breathtaking face twisted into something ferocious.
Pink sashes slipped out from behind her back, swaying in the air though there was no wind in the hall.
"Since Lord Doma can't bear to discipline you, then big sister will teach you what reverence means!"
Blood Demon Art — Eightfold Obi Slash!
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Several sashes instantly hardened, shrieking as they cut through the air, attacking Inosuke from all directions.
"Teach me?"
Inosuke snorted.
"And what's my old man for, huh? You think you get to teach me?"
He stayed where he was, lowering his center of gravity slightly, both hands slowly resting on the hilts at his waist.
In his perception, the seemingly chaotic sash attacks were perfectly clear—every trajectory, every angle.
"With these rags you use to wipe your nose?"
Clang!
Twin blades left their scabbards.
In his left hand—
the indigo Nichirin sword smashed into a serrated edge.
In his right—
his original serrated blade.
Inosuke charged straight into the incoming sashes.
Total Concentration · Ice Breathing · Fourth Form — Continuous Shattering Ice Fangs!
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Metallic impacts exploded throughout the hall, sparks flying everywhere.
What happened next made Daki's eyes go wide.
Her sashes—capable of slicing through stone—did not injure Inosuke at all when they struck his blades.
Instead, the jagged serrations on his swords bit firmly into the fibers of the sashes.
Fueled by the monstrous strength granted by his lung-capacity enhancement, Inosuke swung his arms wildly.
"Break!"
Riiip—!
The supposedly indestructible sashes were forcibly sawn apart!
Shreds of pink fabric drifted slowly down through the air.
"What?!"
Daki's pupils shook violently.
That was her Blood Demon Art!
And it had been brute-forced apart—by physical means?
Before she could react, Inosuke leapt onto the offering table in front of her.
"So this is Upper Rank Six?"
He looked down at Daki from above, the corner of his mouth curling into a vicious grin.
"Too weak."
Though he said it aloud, Inosuke knew the truth perfectly well.
He had only been playing tricks just now.
Daki hadn't even shown killing intent.
His innate heightened senses were screaming warnings.
The real threat had arrived.
From the hunched shadow behind Daki.
"Brother! He made me mad!
Kill him! Hurry up and kill him!"
After losing face again and again, Daki finally burst into tears, throwing a tantrum.
Her arrogant demeanor instantly collapsed into that of a wronged little girl.
"So noisy…"
A sinister voice echoed through the hall.
From behind Daki, a gaunt man with mottled black stains slowly emerged.
Gyutaro.
The true Upper Rank Six.
He held two blood-red sickles, his dead-fish eyes fixed on Inosuke.
That thick, sticky killing intent made Inosuke's skin feel as if it were being corroded by sulfuric acid.
"So pretty… such nice skin…"
Gyutaro scratched at his own face, nails tearing through flesh as black blood seeped out.
"Really makes me jealous…
If I peeled you and took you apart, you'd look beautiful, wouldn't you?"
The pressure of death.
This was nothing like the childish sparring from before.
Inosuke tightened his grip on his twin blades. A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple.
Against Gyutaro, his chances were zero.
But he couldn't retreat.
In the Eternal Paradise Faith, there was only one rule for survival:
Never let Father be disappointed.
Showing weakness meant death.
"Peel my skin?"
Inosuke sneered. His Ice Spirit physique surged, and tiny ice crystals instantly formed in the surrounding air.
"Then let's see whose blades are faster—
your sickles, or mine!"
Just as both sides were on the brink of collision—
"Clap! Clap! Clap!"
Clear applause cut straight through the killing intent.
Doma stepped cheerfully between them, lightly flicking his golden fan.
A wave of extreme cold spread instantly, coating both Gyutaro's blood sickles and Inosuke's blades with a thin layer of frost.
"Alright, alright~ This is a welcome party, not a slaughterhouse."
Doma slung one arm around Inosuke's shoulders and casually patted Gyutaro's head with the other.
"Gyutaro, this is my son, Inosuke.
He's a bit hot-tempered—like a little beast that hasn't grown up yet.
As his senior, you should be more tolerant.
"And that's on me, really. I spoiled him too much.
"Inosuke, honestly—drawing weapons as soon as guests arrive is very rude.
Go on, apologize."
Inosuke sheathed his blades with a snort and turned his head away.
"I never said I was going to kill them.
I just wanted to see how sharp my blades were."
Doma chuckled helplessly, then turned back to the sibling pair with a smile.
"To be worthy of letting Inosuke test his blades,
you two must be quite something~
"Looks like this child really likes you.
"Now then—everyone should get along nicely, okay?"
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