It was the final years of the Taisho era. The prosperity once propped up by the spoils of foreign wars was already beginning to crumble under the weight of domestic and international economic crises.
Society grew restless. Radical opportunists began stirring, and ordinary people, swept up in the turbulence, found their lives growing ever harder.
The farther northeast one traveled, the stronger that sense of unease became.
Along the road, there were families selling their children just to cope with the ever-rising price of rice. There were also propagandists shouting slogans of war, drumming up support for the cabinet's plans to send troops into Siberia.
In short, a noisy and ominous wind was gathering.
That day, Asuka passed through a desolate little town.
With industrial development in the northeast, the town's young people had increasingly flocked to big cities like Fukushima and Sendai.
Those who remained were either farming families rooted here for generations or shopkeepers running small businesses. New faces were rare.
So when Asuka appeared in town, most passersby cast inquisitive looks his way, wondering why such a decent-looking young man would come to this backwater place.
Especially at a time like this.
The moment he entered the town, an odd feeling crept into Asuka's heart.
The atmosphere here was oppressively heavy, leaving an unpleasant impression.
The shops along the road were open as usual, pedestrians walked by as normal, and now and then someone even smiled and nodded at him in friendly greeting.
Yet everyone seemed to be shrouded in a layer of gray haze.
It was a shadow cast upon their spiritual pressure, reflecting deep unease, anxiety, and fear within their hearts.
Asuka did not stop to ask questions. He moved on quietly, ears keenly picking up the whispers drifting through streets and alleys, eyes observing the flicker of unease in every gaze.
"...Yuji too? Sigh... another one..."
"How's your shadow...?"
"I feel like it's lighter today... doesn't feel good..."
"Koji died last night... too damn eerie..."
These fragmented phrases came together, making Asuka's nerves twitch slightly.
Was something killing people in this town?
Could it be a demon?
He subconsciously reached for his Nichirin Blade, but withdrew his hand before touching the hilt.
...This has nothing to do with me.
Asuka's judgment was direct and simple.
He would carry out the missions assigned by the Demon Slayer Corps, the matters his teacher instructed him to handle, and the requests entrusted to him by Rika. At a stretch, he would also help with the private affairs of Kenichi and Shinsuke.
But beyond that, he had no intention of involving himself in trouble.
Whether this town was haunted, and how serious the threat might be, were none of his concern until an official order was issued.
As long as the demon did not block his path.
His mission lay in Sendai. There was no need to invite unnecessary complications.
Asuka adjusted the black haori concealing his blade and looked for a general store to restock food and water, planning to buy a map of the northeastern region as well.
However, as he walked along the bleak street and his gaze drifted toward a relatively secluded alley, he caught sight of a small, huddled patch of shadow curled up in the corner.
Three or four children. The oldest was no more than eleven or twelve, while the youngest still needed to be carried.
They were squeezed into a corner piled with discarded wooden crates and junk, clothes in tatters, faces smeared with dirt.
Street kids... After taking in their appearance, Asuka stopped in his tracks.
Not only because he saw his former self in them, but more importantly, because something was wrong with their complexion.
They looked as if their blood had been drained, or like the lifeless pallor of someone on the brink of death.
Yet their eyes were bright. They huddled together for warmth, and the voice of the one in front was surprisingly strong.
This was not the ashen look brought on by simple hunger, injury, or beatings.
Asuka calmed his breathing and extended his spiritual pressure senses around the children.
Sure enough.
The afternoon sunlight poured into the alley, casting clear shadows on the uneven ground. Whether it was the wooden crates, the stone walls, or the small tree by the wall, every shadow was thick and pitch-black.
But the shadows of these children looked like cheap ink soaked through with water, their edges blurred, their color so faint it was almost blending into the ground.
As if something were continuously devouring the color of their shadows, siphoning their life force through them.
A demon.
Though he did not yet understand the exact pattern of its actions, there was no doubt these children had been marked by a demon.
Asuka fell silent, unsure what force kept him rooted in place as he quietly watched these little stray dogs huddled together for warmth.
He turned back, returned to a stall selling coarse grain pancakes, and sat down expressionlessly.
"Boss, is business good?" he asked.
The old man selling the pancakes froze for a moment. Looking at the unfamiliar young man, he forced a smile that did not reach his eyes and sighed. "Ah, good or bad, what's the difference... it's all thanks to the townsfolk. You're from out of town, aren't you? Best buy what you need and leave quickly. Things haven't been peaceful here lately..."
His eyes darted about as he handed Asuka the pancake and tea he had ordered.
"Hm... what happened? I just heard something about shadows," Asuka said casually after taking a bite, but the old man's face changed immediately. He glanced around and lowered his voice.
"Shh! Don't say that out loud! It's bad luck! Sigh... it's the shadows. No one knows why, but they start fading on their own. Once the shadow disappears completely, the person dies too, like a dried-up corpse sucked dry..."
"I'm telling you, kid, don't ask anymore. It's nothing good. Listen to me and leave while you can!"
Asuka nodded and asked no further questions.
He paid a little extra, signaling the vendor to bring some food to the children in the nearby alley, then took his own portion and left.
After that, he tested the waters at several other stalls and received all kinds of answers.
Some said it was just a rumor. Others claimed the Tengu had grown angry. Some refused to speak at all and tried to chase him away.
But recalling the conversations he had overheard on the street, combined with these fragmented bits of information, he ultimately pieced together a rough conclusion.
A strange illness was spreading through the town. Those afflicted would see their shadows grow fainter and fainter, their health weakening alongside them, until death.
The first victim was Asano Shigeru, who lived in a half-dead state on the eastern edge of town. Most of the others were poor folk or solitary men. Their deaths all looked the same, as if they had been completely drained into dried corpses.
"That's odd. Aren't demons supposed to eat people? Since when do they eat shadows?"
Asuka did not understand, but respected a demon's unusual dietary preferences.
It was still daytime, and the demon would not emerge. To clarify things, he decided to visit the home of the first victim, Asano Shigeru, to look for clues.
After some rather difficult inquiries, he finally found a small fenced yard nearly swallowed by overgrown weeds.
Even the sunlight seemed stingy here. The low mud house was coated in thick dust, with cobwebs hanging from the corners.
Half the yard wall had collapsed, making the place look long abandoned.
This was Asano Shigeru's home?
Though it looked shabby, Asuka had no right to judge another man's means. He had once been a barefoot street orphan himself. Silently, he pushed open the creaking, broken door.
A heavy stench of cheap alcohol mixed with sour sweat rushed out.
Broken liquor bottles, scattered firewood, and unknown filth were splashed across the dirt floor.
A gaunt man with sunken eyes was curled up on a torn straw mat beneath the eaves, still clutching an empty liquor bottle tightly in his hand.
His hair was greasy and matted, his clothes ragged, and his exposed arms were covered in bluish bruises.
From the look of him, he was deep in a severe, prolonged drunken stupor.
This was the other reason the townsfolk were unwilling to talk about Asano Shigeru.
His younger brother, Asano Mori.
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