Shinji was a dead man.
Literally.
But he was also a transmigrator from the modern world, with the full name Nakai Shinji, authentic, yet incredibly unlucky.
A transmigrator who died on the spot right after arriving.
Three months ago, his soul had been yanked without warning from his bed in a modern rented apartment. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying in a pile of corpses on a battlefield.
All around him were the bodies of dead samurai, scattered every which way, severed limbs everywhere, blood flowing like a river.
The air reeked of blood and gunpowder smoke. Crows circled in the distance.
He looked down and saw he was still himself, still in his own body, no doubt about it. Except there was a broken spear inexplicably stuck through his chest.
And then he died.
Not a metaphor. Actually dead.
The joy of transmigration never even had a chance to surface before it was snuffed out by the cold of death.
In his last moment before consciousness sank into darkness, Shinji had only one thought,
'This is such a raw deal, isn't it?'
Then he woke up again.
He didn't know how long it had been. Maybe a few hours, maybe a few days.
When he opened his eyes again, he realized his vision had become strange. The sclera of his eyes were pitch black, his pupils a deep crimson.
The corpses around him had started to rot, but he couldn't smell any stench.
He had become a moving corpse.
More precisely, a demon warrior.
A yokai.
Maybe because he was a yokai now, even though his body was dead, the thoughts in his mind hadn't disappeared at all,
And the reason for his "resurrection" was a translucent panel that had suddenly appeared in his head.
A system called [Affection].
The description on it was crystal clear.
[The host can pursue affection with any non-sentient object within visible or touchable range.]
[Increase affection through dialogue, touch, feeding, maintenance, etc.]
[Reaching certain affection thresholds unlocks bond stories and special bonuses.]
[At 100 affection, the option becomes available to fully absorb the target's abilities into oneself retaining only the base bonuses and dialogue function.]
Shinji stared at that panel for a long time.
An affection system?
Isn't that the kind of cheat skill you see in harem novels?
Pursue beautiful girls, collect affection points, reach the peak of life?
He was just about to cheer when he noticed a key phrase – non-sentient object.
What did non-sentient mean?
Rocks? Trees? Houses?
You can build affection with those?
He tried to "pursue" a rock next to him.
[Soil and gravel fragment: Unable to pursue. Quality too low, does not meet pursuit conditions.]
No good.
He tried a broken spear nearby.
[Broken spear: Unable to pursue. Damage level too high, does not meet pursuit conditions.]
Still no.
His gaze swept across the battlefield and finally landed on the katana at the waist of a samurai corpse not far away.
It was a black katana, relatively well-preserved.
He crawled over and took the sword from the corpse.
[Eligible pursuit target detected.]
[Katana (Mass-Produced)]
[Quality: Low]
[Current Affection: 0 (Stranger)]
[Unlock condition: Feed it with blood.]
Looked like it worked.
Shinji stared at the prompt on the panel and finally understood how this system operated.
It really was an affection system, but the targets weren't people, weren't yokai, weren't any living things.
Only tools like swords, blades, bows, armor, barriers, divine artifacts – things with some history and substance – fell within its pursuit range.
At first glance, it seemed pretty useless.
But thinking it over, it wasn't entirely unusable.
After all, at the time, he had no idea what kind of world this was.
But given that he himself had turned into something as clearly bizarre as a "demon warrior," it was probably a place where the supernatural existed.
And there were bound to be other yokai like him out there.
Then there should also be items with unbelievable powers, right?
Like legendary famous swords, divine artifacts, magical treasures, that sort of thing.
If he could max out the affection on those…
Wouldn't he be able to take all the abilities of those divine weapons for himself?
But he soon discovered another problem.
Different objects seemed to require different methods for raising affection.
Take the samurai sword in his hand, for example. It needed to be "fed with blood."
Meaning, you had to feed it blood.
And judging from the system's hints, some objects might require 'conversation' to increase affection.
Some might need 'maintenance.'
Some might need 'companionship.'
'Some might even need… birthday celebrations?'
Shinji wasn't sure, but he had a nagging feeling that pursuing affection with those legendary-tier artifacts wouldn't be as simple as feeding them blood.
But that was a problem for later.
Back then, he had nothing to his name. The only thing he needed to worry about was surviving, getting out of there.
That was it.
…
The night wind in the forest gradually died down.
Shinji, carrying the now "fed" Muramasa, walked out of the woods.
This blade wasn't the original samurai sword, of course. That one had been just an ordinary sword. In the three months since he'd transmigrated, that sword had long been used up, affection maxed, its abilities absorbed into himself, and its end had been breakage. Not from the fusion; absorbing the abilities didn't destroy it. It was simply that its ordinary materials couldn't withstand repeated battles.
Although Shinji still kept its fragments hidden away, it was clearly unusable.
This sword was a trophy from later on.
And right now.
Having finished feeding this mass-produced Muramasa, which also required 'feeding with blood,' he didn't linger at the scene.
Those five blue-skinned goblins were just peripheral members of some yokai gang. Their real core members were definitely still holed up in the mountains.
With his current strength, poking that hornet's nest wouldn't be wise.
After passing through a bamboo grove, Shinji arrived at a low hill.
The view here was open. He could see the distant mountain ranges and the ruined village at their foot in the distance.
He sat down on a blue-gray rock and laid Muramasa across his knees.
Moonlight spilled down. The blade gave off a cold, dim gleam.
"You ate five blue-skinned goblins today. Feeling a bit better, huh?"
Shinji spoke to the sword, his tone like he was coaxing a picky eater.
"I know you'd rather have monks, but that stuff's too hard to get. If we get killed trying, that's no fun. Let's grind some levels first. We'll talk when we're strong enough."
[Cursed Blade Muramasa: Mood 'Calm', Current Affection 15.]
The prompt on the panel didn't change. Looked like this sword wasn't buying his spiel.
Shinji sighed and reached into the cloth pouch at his waist, pulling out a small piece of oilcloth.
It was maintenance gear he'd scavenged from the battlefield. Crude, but it would have to do.
He dabbed the cloth with a bit of oil and started carefully wiping down the blade.
"See how good I am to you? After dinner, I even give you a spa. What other sword gets treatment like this?"
[Cursed Blade Muramasa: Feels 'comfortable' from the maintenance.]
[Affection +1.]
[Current Affection: 16]
The corner of Shinji's mouth twitched up slightly.
Only a one-point increase, but every little bit counted.
He kept wiping the blade, chattering away as he worked.
This was what the affection system called 'communication.'
Even though the weapon couldn't talk, the system could interpret its 'mood.'
As long as he kept interacting with it, the affection would slowly tick up.
"Once your affection hits 30, we'll unlock the first special ability. Then we can take on stronger yokai and eat better blood. It's a virtuous cycle, see?"
Shinji was in the middle of his spiel when his hand suddenly stopped.
He lifted his head, his crimson pupils contracting slightly.
On the distant horizon, a massive wave of demonic energy was rapidly approaching.
The energy itself wasn't strong, individually, it was even weaker than that lead goblin from earlier.
But the problem was –
There was too much of it.
Countless points of it, blotting out the sky like a swarm of locusts, threatening to stain the whole night a murky gray-green.
And within that mass of demonic energy, a completely different kind of presence was mixed in.
Bright, blazing, carrying a certain sacred quality.
That was human spiritual energy.
"Hum——"
The Muramasa in Shinji's hand suddenly began to tremble, the temper line on its blade glowing with a faint purple light.
[Cursed Blade Muramasa: Detected a large number of prey. Mood changed to 'Excited'.]
[It conveys a message to you: 'Want to eat'.]
Shinji stared at the tidal wave of demonic energy rolling in from afar, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"I know you want to eat, but we gotta check if we can actually take them first."
He stood up, gripping Muramasa firmly in his hand.
"Let's scope it out first."