"Is there something you need?"
Shinobu Kocho asked with a gentle smile. She had heard what the Kasugai Crow had said earlier, but Marcus Lee's expression was strange.
"Ah… all-powerful and highly respected Insect Hashira, well… I do have a small favor to ask," Marcus said, forcing a compliment, his face plastered with a wide grin.
Shinobu's smile twitched ever so slightly, almost breaking under the strain. She took a deep breath and asked, "What is it?"
"It's not anything too outrageous. I've heard from other swordsmen that you are highly skilled in medicine and poisons, that your concoctions can even kill demons. Could I… borrow some for my mission?"
Marcus rubbed his hands together nervously, bending slightly forward, his eyes full of hopeful anticipation.
"Is that all?"
Shinobu raised her delicate eyebrows slightly, appearing thoughtful. "I thought perhaps you wanted me to accompany you."
"Could you?"
Marcus's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Of course… not!"
Shinobu paused, emphasizing her words with mock severity. When she saw his disappointed expression, she smiled and continued,
"Just preparing some poisons for you isn't difficult. When do you plan to leave?"
"Anytime," Marcus said seriously.
No matter how hesitant or confused he felt inside, once he accepted a mission, he would not intentionally delay. Fear would not make him waste time.
"I see…"
Shinobu looked at him with mild surprise. She had expected him to resist more.
"Take care along the way, and stay safe," the petite girl said softly.
A strand of hair fell casually over her shoulder, and the corners of her lips curved naturally. Shinobu's smile was as gentle as a spring bloom.
Marcus was silent for a moment, then nodded quietly. Her genuine concern and well-wishes touched him. It had been a long, long time since he had heard words like that.
Before noon, Marcus set out, carrying five rice balls in his satchel as rations.
"Northeast, northeast!"
The low-flying Kasugai Crow repeatedly called out directions.
Marcus pressed forward, trying to maintain his breathing techniques along the way, but it was extremely difficult. He had only recently learned the breathing style and wasn't yet capable of full concentration.
He was simply trying to practice, getting his body accustomed to the rhythm of controlled breathing.
What frustrated him most was that he didn't even know exactly where he was going or how far it was. The crow could only guide direction.
Through forests and fields, there was no time to enjoy the scenery, and passing pedestrians were merely brushed past.
When exhaustion crept in, Marcus leaned against a large tree and pulled out one of his rice balls, washing it down quickly with water.
It was far from delicious. Every time he ate, memories of the food from his previous life flooded back Sichuan dishes, Cantonese cuisine making his mouth water despite the simplicity of the rice ball.
"Northwest, northwest!"
The sharp voice of the crow rang out again. Marcus groaned.
"How much longer? Why isn't there a more convenient way to travel? Why can't every swordsman be issued a bicycle?"
"If not a carriage, then at least a bicycle, right?"
If memory served, bicycles had already appeared during the Meiji era. Traveling by foot was slow and inefficient.
The crow landed on his shoulder, tilting its little head as if it didn't understand him.
"Northwest! Move!"
"Can't I have a little rest?"
After a few moments of silence, the crow resumed, "Rest done! Move out!"
"How long has it even been? Don't rush me!"
Marcus huffed in exasperation.
By sunset, he finally arrived at the small town where the demon was reportedly active.
A narrow river ran through the town, its waters relatively clear. A few fishing boats were moored along the banks.
The town was divided into east and west sections, connected by two stone bridges. People moved about, keeping the area lively.
Marcus stood on a bridge, scanning the town. Dozens of wooden houses lined the streets in neat rows. Their undulating black tile roofs spread across the town like waves of ink.
There were also rarer buildings a post office and even a small café. The winds of modernity seemed to have reached here, surprising Marcus slightly. But his purpose was clear: eliminate the demon.
At that moment, voices from nearby caught his attention.
"Sigh," an elderly man muttered, paddling a small fishing boat. "Another one… children keep disappearing after dark."
"How terrifying!"
A middle-aged man frowned, worry etched on his face.
"Stop talking. Let's just get the child out first," someone else said, his expression grim.
A small crowd had gathered on the riverbank, naturally drawing Marcus's gaze.
But these three men in the boat weren't fishing.
They were pulling something from the river: a young woman who had apparently attempted suicide.