Stepping softly under the moon's silvery glow, Aoki made his way toward the dojo, his pace unhurried but steady. The cool night air helped to clear his thoughts, which had been tumultuous earlier. His mood, once clouded by a myriad of thoughts, was beginning to stabilize.
This world was filled with problems beyond his control. Aoki had long understood that. But it seemed particularly poignant now. After all, he was no longer human; he was a demon—an "alien" in this society. If people discovered the truth about him, they might fear him more than they did the actual villains lurking in the shadows.
"Just live your life," Aoki mused. This mantra had become a comforting reminder of his need to focus on what he could control.
As he approached the dojo, he sensed something amiss. Before he could react, someone grabbed his arm and yanked him aside.
"Go, go, go! We need to leave now!" Keisuke voice was urgent, filled with an unusual intensity.
Aoki allowed himself to be pulled along, his curiosity piqued. "Brother Keisuke, what's going on?"
"Not now! Let's just move—"
Keisuke's frantic words were abruptly cut off as they came face-to-face with a group of men blocking their path.
"Where do you think you're going?" Fujita Shigeyoshi's sneered, his eyes gleaming with a predatory satisfaction.
On either side of Fujita were two policemen, and next to them stood a young man with a distinctly horse-like face. Their aggressive stances left no doubt about their hostile intentions.
Keisuke's expression turned grim. "Brother Fujita, this is just a misunderstanding from a training match. There's no need for this confrontation. I'll apologize on behalf of Brother Aomura. If you have any other demands, just name them."
Aoki ignored Fujita's group, turning his attention to Keisuke. Despite Keisuke's outward appearance of being honest and somewhat dull, Aoki knew he was sincere, upright, and surprisingly adaptable—a steadfast ally.
"Brother Keisuke, this isn't about training," Fujita Shigeyoshi declared, his tone dripping with mockery. "We're here to catch a demon!"
"Demon? Me?" Aoki raised an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled.
What was happening?
Had he been exposed?
But where were the Demon Slayer Corps? Did these people actually think they could capture him with just a couple of policemen?
A policeman stepped forward, his voice brimming with authority. "We suspect you're involved in the recent disappearances. You need to come with us for questioning."
Aoki's mind raced as he evaluated the situation.
"It seems they have no concrete evidence and are just trying to pin these crimes on me," he thought.
Ordinary people wouldn't confront a demon with such arrogance unless they were unaware of his true nature. Clearly, they had no real understanding of what a demon was. Otherwise, their approach and accusations wouldn't be so comically misguided.
Unfortunately for them, they were too late. If this had happened the day before, it might have genuinely disturbed him.
Fujita Shigeyoshi continued, his voice tinged with malice. "Who says we don't have evidence? Your eyes—they're the eyes of a demon. Normal people don't have eyes like that! You wear a hat all the time to hide your identity!"
Aoki's expression turned curious. If they weren't so clueless about demons, he might have been genuinely worried. But their accusations were baseless fabrications.
All their claims were products of their imagination?
Their talent for inventing stories was almost impressive!
The horse-faced youth chimed in darkly, "He wasn't at the dojo all day. He could have been out preying on more victims. Officer, I suggest you arrest him immediately."
The policemen exchanged glances, their grips tightening on their weapons as they approached Aoki.
"You'd better surrender quietly," one policeman barked. "Don't make us use force!"
"Wait!" Akiyama Keisuke started to intervene, but Aoki stopped him with a firm gesture.
"Brother, I'll handle this."
Without another word, Aoki stepped forward, locking eyes with the policemen. His golden, vertical pupils seemed to pierce their very souls, causing them to falter and slow their approach.
Realizing their fear, the policemen grew angry, their pride stung. Drawing their weapons, one of them shouted, "Stand down, or else!"
"Be cautious, officers," Fujita Shigeyoshi warned with a sneer. "He's a martial artist and can be incredibly dangerous."
The horse-faced youth added eagerly, "Need help, officers? We can handle him."
"Yes! We can take him!" Fujita Shigeyoshi and his group moved closer, ready for a fight.
The policemen, knowing they were acting under dubious pretexts, quickly agreed. "Alright, take him down."
Fujita Shigeyoshi, the horse-faced youth, and their cronies encircled Aoki.
In an instant, a dark blur swept through the air.
Thud!
Two arms, still clutching weapons, flew into the air.
The policemen's faces twisted from shock to horror as they clutched their severed limbs, their screams piercing the night.
"Ahhh!!"
Fujita Shigeyoshi and his gang recoiled in terror, stumbling backward.
"You—you attacked the police?" Fujita's voice was a mix of disbelief and fear.
"I spared them out of mercy," Aoki replied calmly, stepping forward. "Now, what's your connection to the Fujita family of Fujita Steel?"
Fujita Nariyuki, beads of sweat forming on his brow, stammered, "My uncle manages Fujita Steel. I'm a distant relative. If you harm me, the Fujita family will come after you!"
"The Fujita family deserves to die," Aoki's voice was now icy.
The Fujita family, founders of the Yehime Society, had indulged in heinous activities, using their influence to cater to dark, twisted desires. They had become a symbol of corruption and depravity.
Given his current situation, Aoki couldn't bring them all to justice. But he wouldn't show any leniency to those who dared confront him.
"W-what?" Fujita Shigeyoshi's voice quivered. His eyes widened in terror, severing his head cleanly from his shoulders. Blood gushed from the stump of his neck, splattering those nearby.
Especially the horse-faced youth, who stood closest. He was now drenched in blood, frozen in shock.
Thud!
Fujita Shigeyoshi's head hit the ground and rolled a few feet away.
"Ah!" The horse-faced youth and the others screamed in horror, trying to flee.
"Stop!" Aoki's voice was calm but carried an unspoken command.
They froze, turning back to look at him with abject fear.
"Explain what happened. Why did you frame me?" Aoki demanded.
All eyes turned to the horse-faced youth, who was now trembling uncontrollably.
"It wasn't me! I didn't want to hurt you! It was Fujita Shigeyoshi!" he shrieked, barely able to control his bladder.
"No, he suggested framing you!" another member of the group quickly interjected, pointing fingers to distance himself from the horse-faced youth.
"You're the one who started this!" the horse-faced youth screamed back, launching himself at his accuser in a fit of panic and rage.
Chaos ensued as the group descended into a brawl, all trying to pin the blame on each other. The horse-faced youth found himself overwhelmed, kicked and beaten into submission by his erstwhile companions.
Suddenly, the horse-faced youth grabbed at his throat, his face contorting in pain. His skin turned an alarming shade of purple, and within moments, he collapsed, lifeless.
The attackers backed away, their heavy breaths mingling with the night air as they stared in horror at the dead body. None of them could comprehend what had just happened. They stood there, stunned and terrified, unsure of what their next move should be.