Demon Slayer: Upper 0 seems to be a waste

Chapter 322 The Wind Stops

Is Sanemi really that difficult to deal with?

Rinko couldn't help but question this matter.

Sanemi is fast, that's for sure. Rinko doesn't deny that Sanemi's damage output is astonishing.

But is Sanemi really that strong? Strong enough to be able to chase after him and beat him up?

Although he had witnessed too many incredible things tonight—those astonishing advancements, those irrational acts, the unbelievable tenacity of life that was more incredible than ghosts, was it really true that no matter how much he was beaten, he couldn't die? Could a human being of flesh and blood still stand up and swing a knife at him after his bones were broken like that? What was it that made him so powerful?

Even so, he couldn't help but ask a question.

Is what's happening before our eyes real? Is it reasonable? Is Sanemi really capable of holding him off all by himself?

That doesn't make sense.

Under any other circumstances, Rinko wouldn't have found it so strange. If it were just because of what happened tonight, he wouldn't have had so many doubts. After all, the other party also looked like he had gone through a tough battle, and he had strange patterns on his face, just like Giyu. What kind of special existence was that? He didn't know, but based on the information he had so far, the pillar with those patterns was completely different from the one before.

But if that were all, he wouldn't be surprised, but things are different now.

Sanemi's body was truly covered in wounds. It was visibly as if his body had been cut open. The parts bound by bandages would spill out if his internal organs were torn open even slightly. And under such circumstances, was he the one being beaten and pinned down?

Even Giyu, Tanjiro, or Kyojuro couldn't create such a sense of oppression for him.

The blade, precisely gripped by her hand, pressed down heavily. The downward attack made Rinko's bones tremble, and her legs shook under the immense pressure.

This is not reasonable.

No, something must be wrong.

Even if Sanemi could become stronger overnight, he couldn't reach this level. His speed hadn't increased, but his strength had? Impossible.

The fist and the blade collided again with a crisp, clear clang that made one's eardrums itch. But the knife was not knocked away; it merely changed direction slightly and continued to approach him, still slashing heavily and slicing off a piece of flesh from his arm.

The flesh fell to the floor, and blood slid down his arm. As he casually flicked his wrist, blood splattered onto the floor.

"You don't look too good, you brat! Are you out of energy? You're even quiet!"

The voice echoing in my ears was Sanemi's, loud and piercing, incredibly cheerful, with laughter mixed in that was annoyingly bright, but even so, there was no trace of genuine happiness in his tone, it sounded more like he was gritting his teeth.

It wouldn't be wrong to say that the hatred runs deep in their bones.

"And what about you? Are you in good shape? You're covered in injuries, and all you can do is talk. How many more attacks can you withstand before you die?"

Rinko retorted without any hesitation.

"Haha! I might not be in great shape, but I'm more than enough to deal with you! If it were you, I could catch it and return it to you no matter how many times I tried! You brat!"

The man wielding the knife charged at him, but Rinko didn't back down an inch. He simply took the blow with his body. Ghosts are different from humans. When a human is injured, he's injured and won't heal all night. Even if he holds on until sunrise, he won't get any relief. But when a ghost is injured, it heals very quickly...

Blood dripped onto the floor, drip-drop, then a second drip.

It's not Sanemi who's bleeding, it's Rinko who's bleeding.

Ah. I see.

It's not that Sanemi got stronger, it's that he got weaker.

So you can see it, but it feels stronger. Why is that, and when?

Rinko looked at the severed arm, frowning slightly. Blood was still dripping, and the healing process had slowed down considerably. Why?

He tried to recall when it started, when he met Sanemi. Everything was normal before that. In between, what did he encounter?

what.

Tian Yuan.

It was the poison inside those barbed wire caltrops. He thought that what he had seen back then was the final effect, but it turns out that the part that had already been absorbed had been working all along, but he didn't know it because he had healed.

But it's okay. Once you know what it is, you'll know how to solve it. The poison has limited effect on him, and he'll be fine soon.

Rinko whispered to herself.

"You were running around all the time last time, but you've been much more well-behaved today! Are you out of energy? Or is it because you don't have anyone to back you up anymore, and now they realize that you're actually useless except for those little tricks!"

.

Sanemi was never someone who could make Rinko happy with her words. She had a fiery temper, was ruthless and domineering when using a knife, and even had a terrible relationship with her own family.

But, as expected, these words were still spoken.

That's really going too far.

"And what about you, Sanemi?"

Rinko caught the knife with his other, still-intact hand. This time, he gripped it tightly, no longer with a broken hand or a piece of flesh easily sliced ​​off. His severed hand began to heal rapidly behind him. Poison had always worked on him; Tengen probably never expected this.

"Huh? What nonsense are you talking about?"

Sanemi raised an eyebrow at his sudden outburst, veins bulging on his forehead and neck. His hand gripping the sword was taut, and all the muscles in his body were tense, as if trying to break free from his grasp. But unfortunately, he had already found the reason and no longer needed to think about it. His body would soon deal with the little trouble that Tengen had left him with.

What he needs to do now is to get revenge.

"I mean, you, Sanemi. What about the people around you, your only family? Sanemi."

The hand suddenly released the knife, clenched into a fist, and slammed it toward his face. Just by looking at it, one could imagine how painful it would be if that fist hit his face, but no, the fist was blocked by a hand that was only about the size of a fist when it was open.

"Who gave you the audacity to say my brother's name?"

“Did I say something wrong, Sanemi? Genya did it to keep up with you, to join the Demon Slayer Corps, and to apologize to you. He ate demons and learned from real demons, trying to become better and stronger, wanting to enter your field of vision, and wanting you to be proud of him.”

The anger was almost tangible, as intense as the most violent wind. Just standing there made Rinko feel as if her cheek had been scraped, and it hurt so much.

"He's such a good younger brother, he's the most important family member, how can you not cherish him at all, Sanemi?"

The hand gripping the knife tightened, the blade scraping against the flesh and bone of the palm. The fist pressed down on the palm, trying to get closer. In close-quarters combat, humans had no advantage whatsoever.

"Family means never letting go of each other's hands and protecting each other well."

Rinko looked at the enraged Sanemi and, before Sanemi could raise his leg, kicked out and broke the bone of the leg that was about to kick him.

"How can you leave your family?"

The second kick was aimed at his already battered abdomen.

It doesn't look like wind anymore.

Like a kite with a broken string caught in the wind, he flew out and crashed heavily to the ground, coughing up blood, looking disheveled and filthy.

It's like a broken windmill that's been blown away by the wind and trampled into the mud, no longer able to turn.

“You kept saying you wanted to kill me, but now look at you, Sanemi. Now you’re lying here, having lost your brother, your teammates, and you can no longer stand up to protect Muichiro.”

Rinko reached out and grabbed the Nichirin Blade, blood still dripping from his palm as he walked toward Sanemi.

Stand in front of the other person.

He saw the deep-seated hatred in the other person's eyes, and saw the other person tense up, trying to stand up again, but unable to move an inch because of the pain that made his body feel like it was about to be split in two.

That's really vicious; it looks like they wanted to bite his neck off.

But Rinko bent down, lifted her leg, stepped next to the other person, raised the Nichirin Blade, and tilted her head as if she had thought of something.

"Ah. In the end, didn't you protect nothing at all, Sanemi?"

Like a heavy hammer blow, Rinko didn't know how Sanemi reacted when he said those hurtful words to him, nor would he ever know, but he thought it must have been similar to the expression on this face now.

“Go and apologize to your younger brother Genya in person, Sanemi.”

Rinko gripped the sword tightly and raised it high.

“If it were your brother, he would definitely forgive you.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Rinko had never felt that living was such a tiring thing.

He stood there, but could barely stand; he was only able to keep his balance by pressing his body against the hilt of the Nichirin Blade.

Is he tired? No. If his body isn't tired, a ghost shouldn't be.

but why.

Why does it feel as if all the bones in my body have been removed, unable to support this heavy body at all?

Rinko stood there, suddenly feeling a sharp pain in her heart. Was it the poison? Was it the wound? Probably. Was it because Kyojuro's stab was too precise? Was it because Tengen's poison still lingered?

Otherwise, why would that heart be beating so violently?

It can't be because he killed a few people, can it?

But it hurts so much, it hurts so much.

The pain was so intense that I felt like I couldn't take a single step.

How many more people does he need to kill before he's satisfied?

How many people have to die?

How much of his memory can he retain?