He Li, clad in a bathrobe, pursed his lips. He turned slightly to watch the woman enter. She wore a floral kimono, her figure slender. Her dark hair was styled beautifully, and her smile was sweet.
Yet, this woman, destined to be a protagonist, was a demon.
Fine.
He Li was getting annoyed.
This was a hot spring inn. How would he dispose of the demon's body after killing her? Moreover, blood would splatter everywhere, making it incredibly messy. A demon's blood had a stronger, more pungent smell than human blood, with an added stench of decay.
Sigh...
He Li let out a soft sigh. He'd deal with it later, perhaps explain things to the innkeeper.
"Sir, what kind of massage would you like?" the kimono-clad woman asked He Li, bowing her head with a sweet smile.
He Li nodded and said with a smile, "No rush, Miss. Could you turn around, please? I feel a bit shy undressing in front of a lady."
The kimono-clad woman looked at He Li with a hint of surprise. Shy about undressing? If he was shy, why did he order the service?
He Li was unaware of the demon's thoughts. If he had been, he would have jumped up and cursed. He ordered a massage service, for enjoyment, not to have a demon come and eat him.
Who the hell was serving whom?
"Uh... Alright." The demon, after a brief moment of astonishment, agreed. It didn't matter. She'd eat him after he undressed, saving her the trouble of spitting out clothes later.
As the demon was contemplating how to devour He Li,
She didn't notice He Li drawing out his gleaming long saber from behind her.
He Li, holding the saber in one hand, swung it at the back of the demon's neck.
The demon's thoughts froze at the stage of "saving her the trouble of spitting out clothes."
Blood gushed out. In the already small room, the floor, walls, ceiling, and tatami mats were drenched in blood.
The woman's head transformed into a dark green snake's head, and her body became a serpent's.
He Li took two steps forward, looking at the demon's corpse on the floor. He bent down and pulled off the small pouch from the back of the kimono, wiping the bloodstained blade.
The small pouch at the back of the kimono was actually the obi, the sash.
The kimono evolved from Tang dynasty attire. The small pillow at the back of the kimono was its obi. Early kimonos were loose and lacked aesthetic appeal. Later, inspired by Christian missionaries, long sashes were designed for the kimono.
The sash was long, but if it were too short, it wouldn't look good. Therefore, the excess length of the sash was placed at the back, and the small pillow was the knot of the sash.
He Li tossed a section of the sash onto the snake's head, covering it perfectly. He glanced back at Xiao Lan and gave her a wry smile, conveying that the room was now messy.
Xiao Lan was perched in a clean spot, tilting her head.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. It was the innkeeper, an old man in his sixties named Ishida Shinichi.
"Ah!!!"
Ishida Shinichi looked into He Li's room and cried out in shock. He slumped against the wall, his eyes wide, unable to speak.
Of course, even if he could speak, He Li wouldn't understand him.
He Li glanced at Ishida Shinichi, then back at Xiao Lan.
Xiao Lan sniffed and shook her head at He Li.
He Li nodded. Good. The innkeeper wasn't a demon. When he checked in, the front desk receptionist hadn't mentioned the innkeeper, so he didn't know if the innkeeper was a demon.
He Li sheathed his saber and helped up the innkeeper. Honestly, this old man had poor psychological resilience. If this were the people of Binjiang, they wouldn't be scared; they'd gather around to watch the excitement, and some brave soul would even ask if demon meat tasted good.
As if he would eat it himself.
The innkeeper profusely thanked He Li, bowing and scraping. He arranged for a room change, served food, and then rescheduled a massage for He Li. Once everything was settled,
He Li was enjoying his massage in the room.
The innkeeper, Ishida Shinichi, sat in the room, his aged face blank, his eyes unfocused and vacant, staring blankly at an antique oil lamp on the table.
This oil lamp was his treasure, bought at a high price from an auction.
Although he cherished the oil lamp,
He didn't hoard it; he used it. He refilled it with oil and lit it.
In Ishida Shinichi's view, something was truly his only when he used it. If he didn't use it, it wouldn't be his after he died.
A very sensible approach!
After a long while,
Ishida Shinichi slowly sighed, lamenting, "Why would demons appear?"
Ishida Shinichi was talking to himself, reflecting. His hot spring inn was located in the wilderness, surrounded by forests on three sides, and a desolate graveyard behind the inn.
How could such a geomantically auspicious place produce demons?
He was troubled.
His worry wasn't about anything else; it was about He Li potentially spreading rumors that his hot spring inn harbored demons, disguised as masseuses to prey on guests. That would ruin his business, and it would be finished.
Troubled...
Ishida Shinichi fretted, his head bowed, sighing. He didn't realize a dark shadow was appearing on the wall behind him.
"Alas... what should I do? What if he tells everyone?"
Although the innkeeper was selfish, his considerations were understandable from his perspective.
Ishida Shinichi lowered his head, muttering, "What should I do? What should I do? Will he tell? Perhaps I should give him some money? No, he's a demon hunter; he wouldn't lack money. Then what?"
As he was agonizing, the dark shadow behind him slowly materialized. It was a pitch-black humanoid figure, with a pair of horns on its head. Beside the horns, a few wisps of dark shadow floated, likely hair.
At that moment,
Ishida Shinichi felt something was wrong. Suddenly, he felt a chill, and the flame of the antique oil lamp in front of him began to flicker, as if a breeze was blowing it.
Ishida Shinichi scratched his face. Why would it be cold? It wasn't too cold, just a brief chill, and it had already improved.
He didn't pay it much mind. As he got older, his body had ailments, and feeling hot or cold was normal.
"Alas... what should I do?"
Ishida Shinichi sighed again, muttering.
Then,
Someone spoke from behind him:
"Why don't you go and kill him?"
"No, no. Not only is he a demon hunter, but at my age, how could I possibly fight a young man in his twenties? You, you're giving terrible advice. Don't..."
Ishida Shinichi stopped mid-sentence. He was alone in the room. His wife had passed away years ago, and his son and daughter lived in other cities. Who was speaking?
Ishida Shinichi stared blankly at the flickering flame of the oil lamp on the table. He could clearly feel his body tense up instantly, followed by a chilling dread rising from the depths of his heart and rapidly spreading throughout his body.
He swallowed, the wrinkles on his face trembling. After nearly half a minute of silence, he suddenly turned around.
...