Feeling anxious due to the completely unknown changes outside, the painter had already realized it. He held the large coerced difference in his hand horizontally: "Granddaughter of the Tsurumi Family, I don't want to hurt you."
Tsurumi Aoi was completely unaffected by this.
With eyebrows furrowing slightly in disgust, she continued to chase without saying a word, raising her blade.
The ichimonji slashed down accompanied by a piercing whistle.
The cold, eerie light of the smiling Seikou in the painter's hand flashed again. A phantom grinning ghost face called from directly in front of him, blocking the blade.
Then, within the scroll, the writhing blackness became more intense, overflowing and spreading.
The painter's silhouette flickered, disappearing into the thick, snot-like darkness, without a trace.
"These..."
Tsurumi Aoi squinted slightly, sensing something was off.
