Horitake's "electroshock therapy" was remarkably effective—so effective, in fact, that after the full course of treatment, the demon could do nothing but twitch spasmodically on the ground, her ability to resist entirely shattered.
It was, by any objective standard, a brutal display.
Under normal circumstances, a woman like Shinobu Kochou might have felt a flicker of pity at such a sight. However, her hatred for demons ran deep, and she was currently a victim herself—having been struck by the creature's underhanded trick. Consequently, she felt not a shred of sympathy.
Shinobu stood beside Horitake, her gaze cold and unwavering, watching the wretched creature in silence.
Once the current subsided, Horitake reached down and seized the demon by her hair, hauling her head up with chilling aggression.
"I'll ask you one more time," he growled, his voice a low vibration of menace. "Where did you take the golden-haired boy?"
The demon's entire frame shuddered. Her jaw worked pointlessly for a moment before she managed to force out a few strangled syllables.
"I... I... I..."
"Still playing games? It seems you're eager for a second round. I'd be happy to oblige!"
The demon's mind crumbled.
I'm not trying to be difficult! I just can't breathe! You haven't even given me a chance to speak!
Save me! This man is a literal devil!
Without a second thought, Horitake's hand clamped down on her skull again. Another violent surge of lightning tore through her, eliciting a series of blood-curdling screams. Her body thrashed and arched in agony until wisps of acrid smoke began to rise from her scorched flesh.
Could Horitake not see her reaction? Did he not realize she was on the verge of confessing?
He knew perfectly well. He had seen her spirit break after the first shock.
But when dealing with demons, mercy was a liability. Caution was paramount. To ensure she didn't attempt to deceive him, he had to instill a fear so profound it superseded her instinct for survival. He had to utterly demolish her will until she was too terrified to even consider a lie.
And so, he had ruthlessly initiated the second round before she could finish a single word.
As expected, by the time the second surge ended, the demon had collapsed into a state of total mental and physical ruin.
Even as the residual electricity caused her limbs to jerk and her skin to burn, she scrambled to prostrate herself before him. She slammed her forehead against the dirt repeatedly, heedless of the skin breaking or the blood flowing. Her terror of Horitake had become her entire world.
"Mercy! Mercy!" she rasped, her voice a pathetic, trembling wreck. "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
Horitake's expression remained as frigid as a winter tomb. "Speak. Where is the golden-haired youth?"
"I... I didn't like his hair color," she sobbed. "I regretted taking him almost immediately. So I... I abandoned him."
"Abandoned him where?! Be specific!"
"I threw him inside the first floor of that establishment! I just found a random storage closet for sundries and shoved him inside!"
Horitake scrutinized her face with the intensity of a hawk. Her pupils were blown with terror; in this state, she wouldn't dare fabricate a story.
Still, he pressed for confirmation. "The 'A Cut Above' bathhouse we were just at?"
"Yes! Yes, that's the one!"
"You said you threw him in a storage room on the first floor. Which one, exactly?"
The question sent a fresh wave of panic through her. "I... I don't know! There are so many rooms on the first floor. I just picked an empty one that looked like it was for miscellaneous junk and tossed the brat inside!"
Horitake felt inclined to believe her. It was consistent with the fickle, impulsive nature of demons—she wouldn't have bothered to remember the specific location of something she considered "trash."
He had one more detail to clear up.
"Since you didn't like his hair and tossed him aside, does that mean the boy in the cold warehouse was intended to be your next meal?"
"Yes... I was going to wait until the shop closed for the night to eat him slowly."
Horitake let out a dark, mocking laugh. He finally asked the question that had been nagging at him.
"When you say 'eat,' is it in the literal sense? I have my doubts. That pink mist you exhaled caused us quite a bit of trouble. Given your... nature, I suspect you have a different way of 'consuming' them before the actual meal. Am I right?"
The demon was far past the point of modesty or pride. She nodded frantically, her eyes wide with fear as she confessed to her depravity. She admitted that her desires had become warped after her transformation, and she had developed a particular obsession with handsome young men.
Before she actually devoured them, she would use her mist to "clean them out" in every sense of the word.
Having heard enough, Horitake saw no reason to let her draw another breath.
He knew where Senjuro was. He knew the demon's secrets. Her life was now a useless commodity.
Horitake's left hand flickered with a sudden spark. With a casual, lightning-fast motion, he swung his hand like a blade across the demon's throat.
The demon, who had been shivering in fear just a second ago, froze. Her eyes bulged as she clutched her neck, her mouth opening to scream, but only a wet, wheezing sound escaped.
She stared at Horitake with a final, lingering look of agonizing hatred before her head slid from her shoulders.
Her head hit the ground with a dull thud, followed shortly by her headless torso. Within moments, her remains began to crumble into ash, dissolving into the wind until not a single trace of her existence remained.
With the threat neutralized, Horitake lazily dusted off his hands.
"Alright, Shinobu-san. Let's head back. We'll have to check the first floor room by room. The Flame Hashira's brother is still waiting for—"
Horitake didn't get to finish.
The moment he turned around, Shinobu lunged forward and threw herself into his arms, clinging to him with a desperate, crushing strength.
Horitake instinctively caught her, but as he looked down, his heart hammered against his ribs.
Shinobu was panting heavily against his chest. Her body temperature had surged back to a fever pitch, her face was a deep, unnatural crimson, and he could feel her heart racing in sync with his own. The reason was painfully obvious.
This was a primal, biological reaction to the toxin—a force of nature that no amount of willpower could fully suppress. Shinobu felt her last shreds of logic slipping away like sand through her fingers.
As she held him, gazing up at Horitake's handsome, sharp features, a single truth solidified in her clouded mind.
She... she really did love this man. Her inner feelings couldn't lie, and her instinctive reaction in this moment of vulnerability was the ultimate proof.
Seeing her state, Horitake immediately raised his hand, intending to channel another jolt of lightning to shock her back to her senses.
But Shinobu reached out, her small hand catching his wrist. She looked directly into his eyes, her breath coming in hot, shallow gasps as she shook her head.
"No... if you suppress it with lightning again... the next wave will only be more violent. Horitake..."
In that moment, everything became clear to him. He knew exactly what had to be done. It was like managing a great flood: sometimes, the only way to prevent a catastrophe is not to build a higher dam, but to let the waters flow.
As the old proverb went—it is better to divert than to block.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 30 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[pat*eon*com/DaoistRoeoNQ]
Thank you so much for your support!!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"