After several failed attempts to land a hit, Sanemi realized the other man was definitely trained—someone he couldn't possibly defeat. He calmed down a little.
Why would this guy give snacks to his younger siblings? Out of kindness?
At this thought, Sanemi laughed mockingly. Even a father would sell his own children—how could the kindness of a stranger be trusted?
This was the environment Sanemi had grown up in. He truly struggled to believe that someone would be good to others for no reason.
"Hey!"
"Your punches are slowing down, kid!"
Tendo said with a grin. The next moment, he threw a punch—a terrifyingly powerful one—that grazed past Sanemi's face.
In an instant, Sanemi's eyes widened, his hair standing on end as fear surged through him.
This guy had deliberately missed. The realization made him suck in a sharp breath—the other man was far stronger than he'd imagined.
"I really mean no harm. Otherwise, do you think you could stop me?" Tendo patted Sanemi's shoulder and smiled.
"Then what do you want? Charity work?"
"I don't believe there are good people in this world who do things without expecting something in return!" Sanemi's face darkened, his guard still up.
"Eh!" Tendo chuckled teasingly. "Well, today you've met one. I just like meddling in other people's business."
"Huh?!" Sanemi gave him a look as if he were an idiot. This guy must be out of his mind.
Ignoring Sanemi, Tendo walked into his house on his own. Just as Sanemi was about to stop him, Tendo waved him off without turning around.
"Yesterday, some guy named Shinazugawa Gin robbed me."
Hearing this, Sanemi froze. That damned man had caused trouble again.
"I'm sorry!"
"I acted rashly!"
He immediately bowed at a 90-degree angle in apology. Though he despised his bastard father every second of the day, the thought that he had just attacked Tendo—another victim of his father—filled him with guilt.
Tendo, however, didn't mind at all. After all, this guy was fiercely loyal and righteous. With a grin, he turned his head and said, "No need to apologize. You think he could've beaten me?"
But then his tone shifted as he continued, "Still, I am the victim here. Mind if I rest at your place for a few days?"
"This…" Sanemi was at a loss for words. The main issue was that he was clearly in the wrong here, but feeding such a large family was already hard enough—adding another mouth didn't help.
Tendo understood Sanemi's predicament. He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and tossed it to him, saying:"This is for my lodging and meals!"
Sanemi's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He'd never touched so much money in his life and was completely dumbfounded. So this was the world of the wealthy?
Wait, isn't this too much?
Of course, he would soon realize that Tendo's payment was perfectly reasonable.
As evening fell, the Shinazugawa family sat down to eat. Their already cramped space felt even more crowded with an additional person.
The table was laden with delicacies the family had never seen before, in quantities that were downright bewildering.
"Why aren't you eating?"
"I didn't poison anything!"
Tendo asked through a mouthful of roast chicken, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's.
"Tendo-sensei, please take this money back. You're Sanemi's friend—there's no need to pay if you want to stay!" Mrs. Shinazugawa gently pushed the money back toward Tendo.
Swallowing his food, he waved his hand. "Auntie, Sanemi once saved my life. If you keep refusing, you'll make things difficult for me."
Hearing this, Sanemi froze. When did I ever save your life? I don't remember that at all.
"Come on, eat up before it gets cold!"
Without their mother's permission, the Shinazugawa children could only stare longingly at the food, drooling but obedient despite their poverty.
"Well... alright then. Thank you, Tendo-sensei!"
As soon as Mrs. Shinazugawa spoke, the little ones chimed in with their childish voices.
"Thank you, Tendo-sensei!"
What's up with this guy...?
Sanemi was baffled. Or rather, his years of experience in the slums had been completely overturned.
Perhaps it reminded him of what Tendo had said earlier: "I'm just someone who likes to meddle in other people's business."
With Tendo's lively presence, laughter filled the dining table—something the Shinazugawa household hadn't experienced in a long time.
Late at night, Sanemi sat alone outside, still puzzling over everything.
Just then, Tendo plopped down beside him and teased, "What, still think I'm a bad guy?"
Sanemi turned away stubbornly. "Who knows? I've met plenty of people who can put on an act."
"Think whatever you want!" Tendo stood up and stretched. Regardless, he'd made it in time. Now he just needed to figure out how to get the Shinazugawas to move away.
That was the real challenge. According to the story's progression, Mrs. Shinazugawa would turn into a demon, and the family would be nearly wiped out.
But who could turn an ordinary person into a demon? Or rather, aside from the Scrap Boss and the Upper Ranks, which demon would dare to do such a thing?
Meanwhile, in a dark corner of the slums, a drunken Shinazugawa Tsunetaka was venting his anger at thin air.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared in his blurred vision. Just when he needed a punching bag, one had conveniently shown up.
"Hey, who the hell are you?"
"Don't you know this is my turf?"
"Oh?"
A chilling voice responded, as if emerging from the abyss, carrying an aura that sent shivers down Tsunetaka's spine—sobering him instantly.
Under the moonlight stood a tall, slender young man. His pristine suit starkly contrasted with the grimy alley.
His skin was deathly pale, as white as paper, while his crimson eyes gleamed with bloodlust and cruelty.Just by making eye contact with the man, Shinobu Shinazugawa was so terrified that he couldn't move a muscle. It wasn't that he didn't want to run—his legs had simply gone weak.
At this moment, he couldn't even take a single step, let alone turn and flee.
He couldn't even begin to fathom the horror of the creature standing before him—the progenitor of all demons, Muzan Kibutsuji.
There was only one being who could counter him, and that was the long-deceased Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
In this era, aside from sunlight, no one could kill him—at least, not for now.
"What did you just say? Repeat it!" Muzan's lips curled into an eerie smirk. He was in a good mood today, as there seemed to be news about the Blue Spider Lily.
He wouldn't kill this insignificant insect before him. Instead, he'd give him a chance—whether he could survive it would depend on his luck.
"I-I-I..."
Staring into those crimson eyes that devoured people without spitting out the bones, Shinobu stuttered in terror. With a thud, he dropped to his knees, realizing he'd kicked another iron plate.
He just couldn't understand it—how could such a small slum have so many iron plates?
This didn't make any sense!
"Please spare me! D-d-don't kill me!"
He kowtowed frantically, not daring to meet Muzan's gaze.
"I'm not in the mood to crush bugs today!"
Muzan's icy voice froze Shinobu's blood, but upon hearing he wouldn't die, he still exhaled in relief.
The next moment, Muzan's index finger plunged into his temple.