Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Doubtful Kokushibo.
In the brightly lit space.
Creak...
The sound of wooden rooms colliding and opening, accompanied by the howling wind, kept echoing.
Several long rooms were slowly moving in the endless space, changing the layout of the rooms every moment.
Warm light filled the entire space, the floor and rooms intersected vertically and horizontally, randomly placed in mid-air.
At a glance, it was impossible to distinguish the up, down, left, and right of the entire space.
— Infinite Castle
"Dang!" A crisp pipa sound rang out, looking along the sound.
In the center of the entire space, a woman in black kimono with long hair covering her face, holding a pipa, was sitting there.
With the vibration of the pipa strings in her hand, the layout of the entire space seemed to be changing as well.
"Dang!" She lightly stroked the strings of the pipa.
Whoosh!
A shadow flickered, in the center of the space, a black figure suddenly appeared, quickly slanting down.
Whoosh—bang... bang!
The figure stumbled violently, the whole person hit a wooden floor.
But it seemed that the impact was too great, he rolled on the platform, like a water skimmer, bounced up again.
Bang!
After smashing the second piece of floor, the black figure knelt on the platform, spitting out a large mouthful of blood:
"Puwa...!"
Muzan's black suit was already in tatters.
He knelt on the floor, supporting his body with both hands, his body trembling non-stop, his neck convulsing up and down:
"Gu... cough! Gu..."
Large mouthfuls of blood poured out of his mouth, he tried to cover his mouth with his hand, but the viscous blood still gushed out from between his fingers.
Pitter-patter.
Drops fell on the floor where wood chips were scattered from the impact.
"Huff..." Muzan was panting heavily, veins bulging on his neck as his abdomen convulsed non-stop, causing him great discomfort for a moment.
He raised his hand to look at his injury.
His skin was greenish, thin and transparent, tightly adhering to the muscles on the back of his hand, with veins spreading along the cut on his wrist.
The hand and wrist were almost completely separated, with only a bit of skin connecting the two.
The charred wound was faintly red, obviously carbonized.
"Hiss..." White smoke was billowing from the wrist. Although the body was constantly trying to recover, it didn't seem to have much effect.
There was a similar wound on the abdomen, but it was much shallower than the wrist, but it also injured the internal organs.
Muzan stared at his own wound, his face gradually darkening.
The veins slowly bulged.
Creak...
Muzan's face was ferocious, revealing sharp fangs due to rage, veins concentrated around his eyes, and the whites of his eyes were full of blood vessels:
"Roar!! Woman!!" He bent over, opened his mouth, and roared hysterically.
Bang!
Suddenly, a powerful oppressive force generated by anger once again shattered the surrounding wooden room.
Dust and wood chips poured out.
"Puff!"
Nakime sat on the high platform, her hand holding the pipa trembled violently, and the lower half of her face suddenly bulged with dense veins.
"Gulp..." She didn't make a sound, biting her mouth corner, her purple chin was already full of blood overflowing from her mouth.
Hidden under the black hair, the single eye was full of horror and confusion.
- She had never seen this person like this.
Angry and panicked.
- That strong fear, even through the blood vessels, deeply affected her!
- Even if that hatred and anger are not directed at her, but...
Nakime's single eye widened fiercely!
- She can't bear it anymore!
Nakime choked her neck, trying hard to swallow the blood gushing out of her mouth, and the veins kept convulsing.
But having been around Muzan for a long time, Nakime also knew how to survive.
She immediately blocked her heart and stopped thinking.
Patter, patter.
Muzan stepped on the thick necrotic blood, slowly walked out of the dust, his face was gloomy, and his tone was suppressed with strong anger:
"...Call Kokushibo to come over to me!!"
He covered his arm, which was full of small charred wounds.
The moment Muzan successfully escaped by splitting, he knew in his heart.
Although there are not many injured places, the places that were cut are basically the same as 300 years ago.
- Hard to recover.
Just as Muzan was reviewing in his heart.
"Clang!"
Nakime trembled all over, she tried her best to barely lift her right hand, which was almost unconscious, and gently stroked the strings.
Then, with no strength, she dropped her arm, tilted her head, and passed out.
Then.
In front of Muzan who was walking out of the dust.
Whoosh!
A man kneeling, with a katana made of flesh and blood tied around his waist, wearing a purple snake-patterned feather weave, and looking like a samurai, appeared in front of Muzan.
He had no reaction to the sudden change in the environment, just calmly raised his head slowly.
Facing Muzan, he slowly opened his eyes that almost filled his entire face, with six red sclera and golden pupils slightly tilted around the tip of his nose.
The same dark red ferocious pattern was climbing twistedly on his face.
In the two golden pupils in the center, black characters appeared respectively:
[Upper Rank][One]
..... [Upper Rank One]Kokushibo.
Among all the demon, the existence second only to Muzan.
"... Muzan-sama." Kokushibo's tone was calm and slow, whether it was because he had been a ghost for too long or for other reasons.
After shouting once, Kokushibo stopped talking, but looked at Muzan, waiting for his reply.
At the same time, he also noticed Muzan's arm that had not healed for a long time, and the tattered and embarrassed suit.
Muzan stared at Kokushibo, his face was gloomy, his scarlet pupils looked down at him from a high position, and his tone was quite cold:
"...Kokushibo."
He was almost reciting word by word:
"Three hundred years ago."
Upon hearing this special time, three hundred years ago, Kokushibo's eyes slightly fluctuated, like a stone thrown into a calm lake.
Muzan's deep and cold voice continued to echo within the Infinite Castle:
"You have indeed killed all the swordsmen who knew Sun Breathing, right?"
Upon hearing this, Kokushibo slightly lowered his head, his dark red hair tied into a high ponytail hanging behind his head. He did not meet Muzan's gaze, his voice low:
"...Indeed."
As Kokushibo spoke, Muzan was staring at him intently, simultaneously sensing his emotions and thoughts through the blood.
Kokushibo maintained his kneeling and bowing posture, and did not speak.
"Then..." Muzan's tone fluctuated, his voice gradually grew louder, even containing anger, as he raised his nearly broken right hand:
"What is this?!"
Kokushibo slowly raised his head, looking at Muzan's broken arm.
In his six eyes, reflected the bright red wound, and several strands of red flesh trying to heal, but repeatedly failing.
—...This is!
Kokushibo's pupils shrank, for the first time in three hundred years, his emotions showed obvious fluctuations, memories hidden deep in his heart surged.
A nameless irritation gushed out from his viscera, rushing to his head.
He lowered his head slightly again:
"...I... don't know."
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