After finishing breakfast, he took Hyakki out for a walk, feeling the cold, rigid prosthetics under his touch. Moreover, Hyakki’s restored skin was unnaturally pristine, exuding a sense of purity akin to rebirth, which contrasted starkly with the noticeable color difference of his prosthetic arms and left leg, no longer easily deceiving others’ sight.

His disabilities transformed into a kind of shattered beauty, reminiscent of the Venus de Milo’s missing arms, evoking endless artistic imagination. This unconventional beauty naturally elicited sympathy from superficial humans.

The constant glances from passersby along the way proved this point.

Dazai led Hyakki further into the Drum Street, where the residents were different from those outside, having either witnessed or heard of Hyakki’s reputation. They lacked the patronizing pity and sympathy. Children, on the other hand, looked at Hyakki with admiration and awe, aspiring to survive as robustly as he did.

“Hyakki, once your eyes are restored, you’ll see their gazes,” Dazai said calmly as they descended the steps, his words carrying an air of certainty.

“You’ll be very popular.”

There was no one else like him, someone who could touch a stranger’s soul at first glance.

Nakahara stood in the heart of Drum Street, the very center of the explosion years ago, and upon seeing Hyakki’s distinctive presence, a smile crept into his blue eyes. “Hyakki, I really look forward to the day when you’re fully restored.”

“It’s him,” Hyakki recognized the unmistakable life flame of the other.

“Are you going to suggest another round?” Dazai interjected with a tone that teased Nakahara, “Forget it. Even if you train for a hundred years, you won’t reach Hyakki’s level of martial arts. And if you rely on your gravity manipulation ability, you’d just be a glowing red dwarf moving around.”

Nakahara twisted his smile, “Missed me, didn’t you?”

Dazai stood within Hyakki’s protective aura, itching for Nakahara’s upcoming misfortune. “Nakahara, I’ve found a way to help Hyakki regenerate his organs.”

Nakahara’s danger sense went wildly.

Dazai clasped his hands together, adopting an innocent girl’s pose without any hint of awkwardness, his eyes gleaming. “I’ve discovered… that he might regain an organ with just one beating from you~.”

Devilish!

Dropping by to pick a fight and even demanding the victim willingly agree to be beaten again!

There was no way Nakahara would agree.

…

…

He… agreed.

Leibo Street was bustling with people and densely packed buildings, making any conflict risk catching the attention of all Yokohama. The safest place for a fight was naturally near the sea, where the water could wash away any evidence without needing to tidy up the mess.

Nakahara stood by the cliff edge, his face contorted with reluctance, feeling like he was being taken advantage of. “Dazai, haven’t you figured out why he’s missing organs?”

“I have,” Dazai replied, tightening Hyakki’s yukata and securing it with safety pins at vulnerable spots.

God knows why he was so concerned about this issue.

—Only I can see my person.

“He’s cursed in a similar way to people like you,” Dazai continued, “where his organs were conceptually taken away, unable to be restored through healing-type abilities. The only way to recover them is by defeating people like you.”

“What do you mean people like me!”

Nakahara stomped his foot, a dark red glow emitting ominously.

“Hyakki, go beat him up quick. Whether you can regain another organ depends on Nakahara!” Dazai left Hyakki bewildered in place, backing away a distance to wait for the outcome before calming things down. Poor Hyakki had no idea he was supposed to fight Nakahara, looking left and right, shouting, “Dororo!”

Nakahara rubbed his temples. “You planned this, didn’t you? It’s definitely on purpose!”

Dazai innocently smiled.

Nakahara clenched his fists, reluctantly attacking Hyakki, breaking the trust he had painstakingly built.

Damn you, Dazai, making people fight their own battles!

“Huh?”

Hyakki retreated a few steps under Nakahara’s relentless assault, still showing no intention of retaliating.

His intuition reassured him that there was no danger.

The other person was a good guy.

Nakahara felt somewhat conflicted about this trust. He closed his eyes and chose to reciprocate in kind, “Thou, melancholic and tainted forgiveness…” This time, it wasn’t about succumbing to corruption but about wanting to save someone.

Hyakki, if your suffering was caused by the demons, then go ahead and defeat me!

The King of Sheep felt he could handle it.

Maybe?

A surge of high-energy waves erupted from the cliff edge, the dark red power spreading continuously. Half of it reached out into the sea, stirring up colossal waves, while Dazai intervened, acting as a safety line.

Hyakki saw the resurgence of the demonic spirit in his mind’s eye, his attitude abruptly shifting.

[Lost control again?]

No longer confused, Hyakki drew his arm sword, preparing to face Nakahara with the determination to confront a formidable foe.

[Let’s cleanse once more… No, defeat the demon!]

The conscience of a doll hurt a little.

But… it must be an illusion, after all, he didn’t have such sensations as touch.