The middle-aged man frowned and took a step back. As he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth seemed to instantly become whiter and sharper for a split second before returning to normal.
Seeing the other party's reaction, Kurozawa felt a sense of amusement.
Staying on the mountain all the time, doing nothing but cultivating, such a life was truly dull.
Seeing this particular Demon who kept backing down and was unwilling to fight, Kurozawa couldn't help but feel a strange sensation.
I was actually nervous just now.
Thinking of his recent thoughts, Kurozawa couldn't help but laugh at himself.
However, considering that the other party was a Man-Eating Demon that fed on humans and was immortal, Kurozawa chose to forgive his nervousness from earlier.
After all, this was his first time facing a Demon directly. He needed a little time to adjust his mindset. And now, through a few lines of dialogue, he had discovered that the other party seemed even more unwilling to provoke him, and he had already finished adjusting.
Lowering his head, Kurozawa's gaze gradually calmed as he looked at the middle-aged man before him.
"What's inside that snakeskin bag on your back?"
Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man slightly shifted his feet, his body blocking Kurozawa's view.
"Just a wild boar I caught on the mountain, it has nothing to do with you."
Beneath the clothes invisible to the naked eye, faint bluish-black patterns were already spreading across the middle-aged man's body surface.
He wasn't afraid of Kurozawa, this Demon Hunter. He just didn't want any more trouble.
Kurozawa's tall and imposing physique clearly exerted greater pressure than that of an average person.
Extending his right hand and placing it on the other party's shoulder, Kurozawa laughed heartily, "That's perfect! This Old Man loves pork the most, especially wild boar from the mountains. I haven't had dinner yet. Sell me the wild boar you caught so I can have a good meal. How much?"
This Old Man? The middle-aged man didn't understand what he was saying, but that didn't stop him from understanding Kurozawa's meaning.
"I won't sell it for any price." The middle-aged man's tone gradually stiffened.
He watched as Kurozawa moved his right hand from the sword hilt and placed it on his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly.
Fool! A Demon Hunter Swordsman, with such a low level of vigilance? What are you without your Nichirin Blade? The middle-aged man's killing intent surged instantly. As long as he caught Kurozawa off guard and launched a surprise attack, without giving him a chance to dodge, this young man would surely die.
At the same time, one of the middle-aged man's hands quietly moved behind his back. His fingernails elongated, their tips becoming sharp and pointed, and their sides becoming thin and razor-sharp.
Meanwhile, Kurozawa's eyes simply lit up, and he smiled as if unaware, "Then if you don't give me money, it's not selling, right?"
Unfortunately, no one understands my joke. Kurozawa's gaze deepened.
Under the candlelight, the middle-aged man's expression instantly became distorted.
In an instant, dark Demonic patterns intertwined from his neck upwards onto his face.
At the same time, his veins bulged, and his blood vessels became thick like earthworms slowly wriggling beneath his skin. In his gaping maw, which split open to his ears, his teeth protruded like the file-like fangs of a shark.
The middle-aged man... No... The middle-aged Demon's claw fiercely clawed towards Kurozawa's left chest. The whistling wind and the cold glint flashing between his fingers all indicated the danger level.
His eyes were filled with savagery and the pleasure of erupting after enduring humiliation.
"Demon Hunter, you're pushing it too far! Go to hell!"
Truly, enduring for a moment only makes you angrier the more you think about it. Stepping back only makes you feel more wronged the more you think about it. As a Demon, he was usually the one bullying others. Where had he ever suffered such indignance? However, his triumphant voice came to an abrupt halt with a bang.
*Bang!* Kurozawa's large hand, which was resting on his shoulder, had already silently climbed to the middle-aged Demon's head the moment he launched his surprise attack.
Immediately, as he was roaring triumphantly, Kurozawa pressed down heavily.
In an instant, an irresistible immense force struck. The middle-aged man felt like a broken rag doll, spinning around, and was casually thrown to the ground.
His entire head was pressed firmly into the gray stone ground by Kurozawa's hand.
The middle-aged man's entire face was embedded within, cracked and shattered, only revealing the back of his head.
This kind of strength... The middle-aged Demon was horrified.
Kurozawa hadn't even drawn his sword! The Nichirin Blade at his waist was actually just a trap to lure him in! How is this possible? How could a human's strength be this great?
It wasn't that the middle-aged Demon hadn't seen other Swordsmen before. Although he had only observed from hiding and hadn't dared to attack directly, this didn't prevent him from knowing that the strength of Swordsmen lay in the sword styles they used.
The sharpness of the Nichirin Blade was what Swordsmen relied on to fight Demons.
Relying solely on their physical bodies, Demons could crush Swordsmen.
But what was happening now completely overturned the middle-aged Demon's worldview.
Although, due to his limited knowledge, this worldview was inherently problematic.
The Swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps who had mastered the Constant Breathing Technique had physiques that were not inferior to most Demons. Each and every one of them was a humanoid monster.
Kurozawa didn't know what the middle-aged Demon was thinking. He half-squatted on the ground, holding the Demon down with one hand, looking at the back of his head that was exposed, and drew his Nichirin Blade with his left hand.
Even in the dark environment, the blade of the Nichirin Blade was still incomparably cold and seemed capable of cutting through anything.
Raising the sword, Kurozawa brought the Nichirin Blade horizontally towards the middle-aged Demon's neck.
Before it even made contact, goosebumps appeared one by one on the skin of the middle-aged Demon's nape, and the fine hairs stood on end.
Sensing the danger, the middle-aged Demon was terrified and struggled desperately.
He pushed off the ground with his feet, trying to break free from Kurozawa's restraint.
But within the absolute suppressive force of Kurozawa, the middle-aged Demon instantly understood that once he was grabbed by the neck, he simply couldn't break free with his own strength.
At the brink of life and death, the middle-aged Demon held his neck with both hands.
But it wasn't to defend against the Nichirin Blade with his hands.
With the sharpness of the Nichirin Blade, his hands couldn't block it.
Therefore, under Kurozawa's strange gaze, the middle-aged Demon's pair of Demonic hands grew sharp, blade-like fingernails from the tips, which they then plunged into his own neck.
Then, the veins on his arms bulged, and he gave a violent tear.
At the same time, the Nichirin Blade fell, its edge already touching the Demonic hands.
In the nick of time, there was a ripping sound.
The flesh and blood of his neck were torn apart from the middle by the Demonic hands! The pale white spinal bones also snapped, clinging with strands of blood.
Crimson blood gushed out with immense pressure, staining Kurozawa's trousers crimson.
*Snap!* The Nichirin Blade fell, passing through the torn neck and slicing into the ground, leaving a neither deep nor shallow cut.
Immediately after, the middle-aged Demon ignored the head still under Kurozawa's palm, and his entire body and limbs slid rapidly, moving like a large spider in a posture that violated the limitations of normal human joints.
This unexpected move allowed the middle-aged Demon to successfully escape Kurozawa's blade. The entire Demon didn't stand up, but stayed pressed to the ground, sliding like a spider.
Kurozawa stood up, holding the still-dripping Demonic head in one hand, his eyes fixed on the Demon's headless limbs and torso which had escaped three meters away and were crawling on the ground.
"As long as I take off my own head, no one can cut off my head?"
He couldn't tell, this Demon's will to survive was so strong, its bizarre actions were actually effective.
Could this be the Demon version of "As long as I choose to kill myself, no one can kill me"? Kurozawa was astonished. At the same time, looking at the still-dripping Demonic head, he felt waves of nausea.
The middle-aged man's Demonic head was still in Kurozawa's hand, its face filled with terror. Beneath the head were unevenly torn strands of flesh from the violent tearing, as well as half a spine, a mix of pale white and blood red.
"This Old Man has always been kind and pure. When I was a child, I even peeked through my fingers when killing chickens. Are you trying to deliberately scare This Old Man to death? Huh?"
Kurozawa wanted to know if the Power of Despair was related to the degree of despair in the opponent's heart at the moment of death. So, contrary to his usual behavior, he spoke much more. He wanted to push this Demon step by step into deeper despair.
With the corner of his eye on the headless body, Kurozawa lifted the Demonic head and looked directly into its eyes.
The originally pale pupils rolled, and the middle-aged Demon's deathly pale face turned ingratiating.
Seeking survival by severing his head, and with his head still in the other person's hands, the middle-aged man had intended to confuse Kurozawa with his headless body and escape when Kurozawa let go. He hadn't expected Kurozawa to know that his consciousness still resided in the head.
"P-Please spare me..."
Cough cough cough, the author is a pervert.
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