Dozens of survivors stood scattered across the open road.
Not organized.
Not calm.
Just—
Gathered.
Pulled together by tension they didn't fully understand.
Whispers spread through the crowd like a quiet ripple.
Some spoke nervously.
Others stayed silent, watching.
Because at the center of it all—
Two groups faced each other.
And something about it felt important.
At the front of one side—
Kenta Moriyama stood confidently, his usual composed smile resting on his face.
Like nothing had changed.
Like this broken world still followed his rules.
Behind him stood several survivors.
A group.
Structured.
Organized.
Safer.
Beside him—
Yumi.
Silent.
Observing everything with calm, steady eyes.
Across from them—
Rishiro.
Standing just as casually as ever.
Chainsaw resting on his shoulder.
Like he had simply wandered into this moment by accident.
Behind him—
Maru tightened her grip on the metal bat.
Her eyes flicked between Kenta and Rishiro.
Daichi rested the axe on his shoulder, scanning the area carefully.
Ready.
Hikari adjusted her glasses slowly, analyzing every person in the crowd.
The air felt heavy.
Still.
Then—
Kenta spoke.
"Well, look who's still alive."
His voice carried easily across the street.
Confident.
Mocking.
Like he had already decided how this encounter would end.
Rishiro yawned.
Actually yawned.
"…Morning."
The response was effortless.
Casual.
Unbothered.
A few survivors let out awkward laughs.
Not because it was funny—
But because they didn't know how else to react.
Kenta crossed his arms.
"You know, you're lucky."
His tone sharpened slightly.
"This world isn't kind to people who wander around alone."
He gestured toward the survivors behind him.
"People survive by working together."
"Groups gather resources."
"Groups fight monsters."
"Groups protect each other."
His voice grew louder.
More commanding.
"That's how people stay alive."
Several survivors nodded.
It made sense.
It sounded right.
It felt safe.
But Rishiro—
Didn't react the way they expected.
He scratched the back of his head lazily.
"For someone who talks so much about numbers…"
A small pause.
Then—
"…you seem pretty proud of them."
The shift was immediate.
Kenta's eyes narrowed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Rishiro didn't answer right away.
Instead—
He glanced down the empty road.
Broken pavement.
Dust moving slowly in the wind.
Then—
He spoke.
Calm.
Steady.
"What's the point of having numbers behind you…"
His voice wasn't loud—
But it carried.
"…if the path you walk isn't even yours?"
The whispers stopped.
One by one.
The crowd grew quiet.
Listening.
Rishiro placed his hands in his pockets.
Relaxed.
Completely at ease.
"Even if I walk alone…"
A faint breeze moved through the street.
"…I'll walk the path I want."
His tone didn't change.
But the weight behind it did.
"A path I created."
A pause.
Then—
"Or maybe…"
His eyes lifted slightly.
"…a path that chose me."
Something about that line—
Felt different.
Heavier.
Like it meant more than it should.
The wind brushed past the broken buildings.
"And even if I have to sacrifice everything…"
No hesitation.
No doubt.
"…I'll keep walking."
Maru stared at him.
Quietly.
Something about his voice—
Didn't feel like the Rishiro she knew.
Rishiro continued.
"Because it's my path."
His gaze shifted slowly.
Toward Kenta.
Then—
Briefly—
Toward Yumi.
"And if someone stands in that path…"
A pause.
"…I'll remove them."
The tension thickened.
The air itself felt tighter.
"And I don't care who it is."
A faint grin appeared on his face.
Cold.
Confident.
"Even if it's a god."
Silence.
Complete.
Even the wind seemed to disappear.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Because for a moment—
They believed him.
Maru glanced at him again.
And for the first time—
She understood something clearly.
The Rishiro she knew—
Was changing.
Slowly.
And maybe—
There was no going back.
Then—
Suddenly—
Rishiro tilted his head slightly.
His eyes moved upward.
Toward a nearby rooftop.
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"…So."
His voice broke the silence.
Calm.
Amused.
"How long are you planning to keep eavesdropping, old man?"
Confusion spread instantly through the crowd.
Survivors looked around.
Scanning rooftops.
Walls.
Shadows.
Nothing.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then—
A soft chuckle echoed from above.
"Well…"
"…looks like I got caught."
A figure stepped forward onto the rooftop.
Elegant.
Relaxed.
Smiling.
Nurarihyon.
The Yokai leader.
Gasps spread through the crowd.
Several survivors stepped back instinctively.
Fear hit instantly.
A strange pressure filled the air.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Overwhelming.
Even Kenta's confident posture stiffened slightly.
For the first time—
He looked uncertain.
Nurarihyon looked down calmly at the humans.
Like they were something mildly interesting.
Then—
His eyes met Rishiro's.
And everything else—
Faded.
For a moment—
Nothing existed but that gaze.
No sound.
No movement.
Just—
Recognition.
Understanding.
Rishiro's grin widened slowly.
Excited.
Interested.
"…Now this will be interesting."
The wind returned.
Colder.
Sharper.
And this time—
It carried something else.
The start of something far bigger.
Because this—
Wasn't just a meeting.
Wasn't just tension.
This—
Was the moment everything began to shift.
And somewhere—
Beyond sight—
Something was watching.
Waiting.
For what would happen next.
End of Chapter 20