The streets were empty.
Too empty.
Not abandoned—
But avoided.
Like something had passed through recently…
And everything else had chosen to stay away.
Rishiro walked alone.
Hands in his pockets.
His steps slow.
Unhurried.
No tension.
No urgency.
Just—
Moving forward.
"…So this is how it is."
His voice was low.
Flat.
Almost bored.
The sound faded into the empty street.
Then—
He stopped.
No warning.
No reason visible.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"…Come out."
Silence.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—
Movement.
From the shadows.
One figure stepped forward.
Then another.
Then more.
One.
Three.
Five.
Ten.
Men.
And behind them—
Yokai.
Small ones.
Distorted.
Their limbs twisted at unnatural angles.
Their eyes dull.
Lifeless.
Like something was forcing them to move.
Not instinct.
Not hunger.
Control.
Rishiro glanced at them once.
Just once.
"…Using yokai now?"
No answer.
One of the men stepped forward.
His grip tightened around his weapon.
"You should've joined us."
Another stepped closer.
"Kenta gave you a chance."
"You didn't take it."
Their voices weren't confident.
Not really.
There was tension underneath.
Hesitation.
But they pushed forward anyway.
Rishiro sighed softly.
Barely audible.
"…You picked the wrong day."
The air shifted.
Subtly.
But enough.
They felt it.
And still—
They charged.
Messy.
Uncoordinated.
Driven more by pressure than skill.
Rishiro didn't move at first.
He just watched them come.
Then—
He stepped forward.
And everything changed.
One motion.
That was all it took.
Clean.
Precise.
The first man dropped before Rishiro's strike even fully finished.
His body hit the ground with a dull sound.
The second lunged.
Desperate.
Too slow.
Rishiro moved past him.
Effortless.
Like he had already predicted it.
The attack missed completely.
A second later—
The man collapsed.
The yokai rushed in next.
Claws tore through the air.
Teeth snapped wildly.
But—
Rishiro's expression didn't change.
Not even slightly.
No anger.
No excitement.
Nothing.
His movements were calm.
Controlled.
Every step measured.
Every strike exact.
No wasted energy.
No unnecessary motion.
A slight shift of his body—
An attack missed.
A small step forward—
A counter landed.
The sound of impact echoed sharply through the empty street—
Then faded.
Again.
And again.
And again.
One by one—
They fell.
Men.
Yokai.
Doesn't matter.
All the same.
All—
Too slow.
Too predictable.
Too weak.
Until—
Nothing remained.
Silence.
Moments later—
The street stood still again.
Bodies scattered across the ground.
Some unconscious.
Some barely breathing.
Weapons lay broken.
Bent.
Useless.
The yokai—
Gone.
Destroyed.
Their forms twisted into dark fragments.
The road itself had cracked in places.
As if something heavy—
Something unstoppable—
Had passed through it.
Rishiro stood in the center.
Unharmed.
Unchanged.
Untouched.
"…That's it?"
No answer.
Of course not.
He glanced around once.
Then turned away.
"…Boring."
And just like that—
He walked forward.
Leaving everything behind.
Like it had never mattered.
Not long after—
Footsteps echoed.
Kenta arrived.
With his group.
Yumi beside him.
Several others behind.
They slowed.
Then stopped.
The moment they saw it—
They froze.
"…What the hell…"
One of them whispered.
The street looked wrong.
Too quiet.
Too broken.
Too final.
The men Kenta had sent—
Were on the ground.
Scattered.
Defeated.
Completely.
Some groaned weakly.
Others didn't move at all.
The yokai—
Gone.
Destroyed.
As if they had never even stood a chance.
Kenta's expression darkened.
"…Tch…"
Then—
A voice.
Weak.
Broken.
"…I-it…"
They turned.
One of the men was still alive.
Barely.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
His breathing uneven.
Eyes wide—
Unfocused.
Kenta stepped closer.
"…What happened?"
The man's lips trembled.
"…It wasn't…"
His voice cracked.
"…It wasn't human…"
Silence.
Heavy.
Kenta frowned.
"…What?"
The man shook his head weakly.
"I-It… wasn't him…"
His voice trembled.
"…not human…"
His breathing became erratic.
Hands shaking violently.
Like he was reliving it.
"…something else…"
A tear rolled down his face.
Uncontrollable.
Fear.
Pure fear.
"No title…"
"…no name…"
"…nothing fits that thing…"
His voice dropped into a whisper.
Barely audible.
"…that monster…"
The air grew colder.
No one spoke.
No one denied it.
Because deep down—
They understood.
For the first time—
They weren't thinking of Rishiro as a person.
Not even as an enemy.
But as—
Something else.
Kenta clicked his tongue.
"…Shut up."
But his voice—
Wasn't as steady as before.
Yumi watched quietly.
Her eyes sharp.
Focused.
Analyzing.
Understanding something the others hadn't yet.
The wind passed through the broken street.
Carrying nothing but silence.
Far ahead—
Rishiro walked.
Not stopping.
Not slowing.
Not looking back.
"…Guess that settles it."
A faint smile appeared.
Small.
Calm.
"…People are getting annoying."
His eyes lifted toward the deeper parts of the city.
Where the shadows thickened.
Where stronger things waited.
"…Let's see what's next."
The wind moved past him.
Cold.
Quiet.
And once again—
He walked forward.
Alone.
But now—
The world behind him no longer saw him the same way.
And the world ahead—
Was about to learn why.
End of Chapter 23