in memory.
Four hundred years ago.
Warring States Period,
When Black Death Moushang was a human, his name was Jiguo Iwakatsu, and he was the Wolzhu of the Demon Slayer Corps at that time.
Although he was the last to join the Demon Slayer Corps, he became the second most powerful Hashira at the time.
That day.
"Yuanyi."
Jiguo Yansheng stood beside Yuan Yi. He looked at the sunshine pouring from the top of the clouds in the distance, and his tone was full of worry:
"No one's strength can match yours or mine."
"The inheritance of the breathing method is simply disappointing..."
He sighed:
"If this continues, the skills that have been honed over time will be lost."
After a pause, Jiguo Yansheng didn't respond.
Aren't you worried, Yuanyi?
Jiguo Yansheng turned to look at his brother, at the man who in his heart was everything in the world.
Although he said this, there was a hint of contempt in his tone for the rest of the people.
Enichi, wearing a high crimson ponytail, stood in front of Iwakatsu Tsukuni, with his back to his brother.
The breeze blew through the hem of his clothes, and the dark red feather fabric was draped on his shoulders. There was no emotion in his faint tone:
"Brother."
"You take our two brothers too seriously."
Ji Guoyuan just stood there, expressionless, looking into the distance with calm eyes, and said lightly:
"You and I are just two passers-by in the long history of mankind..."
"A baby whose talent is far superior to that of you and me might be born somewhere in the world right now."
"Presumably, they will eventually reach the same state as you and me."
He seemed to be stating an unimportant fact, not noticing the disbelieving look in Tsukuni Iwakatsu's eyes next to him:
"No need to worry."
"Brother."
Yuan Yi turned his head to face Jiguo Yansheng, looked at his brother seriously, and said in a profound tone:
"Those who have lost their way will end up in the same place."
"Even if times change or the paths are different."
“We’re all going to end up in the same place.”
…
…
"Don't you think this is a pleasant thing?"
"Brother."
Yuanyi's gentle and low words echoed in his mind.
Wow——
The bright red blood flowed out in gizzards and fell on the ground, dyeing the broken stone bricks red.
Hei Shimo covered his right arm that was cut in the middle. The muscles at the wound were tense and the blackened granules bulged.
The blood still spurted out from between the fingers uncontrollably.
His right arm did not grow back instantly as usual.
He subconsciously raised his half-amputated arm and took a look.
Bah…
A burst of charred white smoke rose from half of his right arm.
Regeneration…hindered…
In a daze, Hei Shimo looked at Kamado Tanjuro not far away, and he saw the black blade in Tanjuro's hand.
At this moment, the dark blade in his hand was filled with smoke, and started to glow red and hot from the middle.
And...Yuanyi, the same...red knife...
At this moment, all the thoughts in Hei Shimo's heart were clear, and he seemed to understand something.
I see…
Black Death Mou looked at Tanjuro's appearance. He suddenly breathed rapidly, as if he understood his brother so well for the first time in hundreds of years.
The emotions inside were aroused again.
I see…
Yuanyi!
Have you been waiting for someone like this to appear...
For hundreds of years...always...
No need to worry…
Because one day...someone will inherit your mantle...
do you mean this…
Yuanyi.
The image of Kamado Tanjuro at this moment was reflected in Heishimou's pupils.
The markings on his left forehead were very dazzling due to the increase in body temperature. His strong body under the wide dark red feather fabric made his whole body much taller and taller.
Her dark red hair was tied up high, and she wore a pair of familiar earrings that represented inheritance from generation to generation.
Plus, the red and shiny He Dao in his hand.
At this moment, Tanjuro coincides with the fate of his successor hundreds of years ago.
"Those who have lost their way...will end up in the same place..."
Hei Shimo looked at Kamado Tanjuro in a daze. He gradually loosened his grip on the handle of the knife and muttered slowly.
"same……"
…
…
suddenly.
Hei Shimo felt that he seemed to understand Yuanyi's thoughts four hundred years ago.
This made him, who had never been with Yuan, feel a little bit...surprised.
It was joy from the bottom of his heart, but this emotion shocked Hei Shimo himself.
"Am I on the wrong path...?"
Hei Death Mou murmured in a low voice. He raised his left hand and looked at the protruding veins and dark nails on his arm.
Those who lack the means.
He originally chose to become a ghost. Was this path the right one or the wrong one?
Hei Shimo thought about this issue once when he saw Yuan Yi's childhood clothes.
But this time, his heart echoed the sentiments of his old couple:
'How sad...brother. '
…
on the street.
Pointless.
Everything you do is meaningless.
There is no point in fighting here...
Snap.
Black Death Mou straightened up slowly. He no longer covered his wounds, but looked at Tanjuro openly.
He emerged from the ruins.
He knew that he lost.
He lost once again, both in terms of strength and thought.
He lost to the person in front of him who looked very much like Yuanyi.
He lost to Yui Yi who had predicted this scene four hundred years ago.
At that time, he was still anxious because he didn't want his sword skills to be lost to the next generation.
But Yuanyi has set his sights on it for hundreds of years, or even longer.
Total defeat.
But at this moment, there was no trace of the anxiety in his heart that he had before.
Bah--
He reached out and pulled off the remaining strands of clothes that were floating on his body with an expressionless expression.
The upper body was naked in the air, and the muscles that had been honed for hundreds of years were clearly visible.
Kamado Tanjuro was standing not far away, his blade raised, alert, slowly walking towards this side.
Uh-huh!
Hei Shimo raised his head and looked at Tanjuro again with his six eyes. His voice was low, slow and clear:
"you…"
He held the blade and pointed the tip at Tanjuro:
"What is your name…?"
Tanjuro was slightly startled by the sudden question.
He narrowed his eyes and looked warily at Hei Shimo who had been silent for a while and then became very strange.
——?
The clenched wedge in his hand never relaxed.
"…Gopachiro."
Tanjuro frowned, observing his surroundings and dealing with it casually.
After hearing this, Hei Shimo had no other reaction. He just nodded slightly, and the whole ghost became quite strange:
"Gopachiro, I remember..."
He is very confused now.
After understanding Wei Yuanyi's thoughts, Hei Shimo suddenly didn't know what he had done before.
He had nothing left in the world.
Nothing is affected.
That…
A trace of confusion flashed in Hei Shimo's eyes.
What is the meaning of my...existence in the world?
then.
Tanjuro took the opportunity to catch his breath and catch his breath.
Hei Shimo lowered his head and took out a small purple-pink bag with delicate patterns from his black hakama.
In the bag, there was a rough wooden flute broken into two pieces.
Uh-huh!
Black Death Mou turned into an afterimage and left here.
