'Am I—being complimented?' Feeling more bewildered than anything, Sū ěr expression froze somewhere between wariness and astonishment.
It was the instinct of being stared down by a carnivorous predator. It wasn't quite skin-crawling terror, but he felt a needle-like prickling across his flesh. Under the gaze of those ruby-like eyes, Sū ěr exposed skin throbbed with a faint ache; the killing intent and battle-lust in her pupils were far too blatant, licking across him like a physical blade.
"Uh, thanks," Sū ěr managed, not quite knowing how to respond. He moved to scratch his head, only to realize his hands were covered in mud from tilling the soil. He awkwardly changed the gesture into a mid-air wave. "...And you are?"
"Kazami Yūka," the green-haired yōkai stated, simply declaring her name. She looked with keen interest at the lush vegetables and fruits growing near Sū ěr, as well as the various flowers blooming thickly along the ridges of the field. In the tone of an experienced veteran, she continued: "Plants grown using flesh and bone as fertilizer are generally more vibrant than ordinary ones... I presume you've noticed this as well?"
"...Ah, haha, well, true. They are... perhaps a bit too vibrant..."
The yōkai who had suddenly appeared at his doorstep was discussing agricultural matters in a cryptic fashion, but Sū ěr knew exactly what she was referring to. Just a few days ago, when he'd woken up and strolled through his garden, he had been gobsmacked to find one of his tomatoes had sprouted a wide, grinning mouth. Upon closer inspection, he could even see a few sharp red fangs. It had been enough to shock him for an entire year.
Generally speaking, one would call this "attaining sapience."
Having lived in this world for some time, Sū ěr had realized that the probability of things becoming sentient was absurdly high. The grass at the door, the bamboo outside, the potatoes, the cabbage—honestly, if he woke up one day to find his bamboo house had gained a personality, he wouldn't even be surprised.
What a fascinating world.
"Land that has seen war grows thicker weeds once the fighting ends; plants watered with blood possess more vitality than common flora... These are plants I have never seen before. May I ask their names?"
"Uh, sure. The seeds were from a friend... well, anyway, this one is a tomato, and this is a watermelon..."
It was a bizarre scene: two people standing there like old farmers exchanging agricultural tips. Sū ěr stood in the field while the green-haired yōkai stood on a nearby slope, engaged in a conversation that felt utterly surreal.
"...You are interesting. At least far more interesting than that other person," Kazami Yūka suddenly praised him bluntly after their friendly exchange about crops. However, rather than the compliment, Sū ěr was more concerned with the person she mentioned.
"That person?" Sū ěr pressed, but his question went unanswered.
"Appetizers before the main course can end here... You are quite good," Yūka said, repeating herself as she began to stretch her body. Even from a distance, Sū ěr could hear her bones cracking and popping. "...If you don't end up dead—I'll spare your life."
"So it's like this again, is it?" Sū ěr let out a heavy sigh. For some reason, he wasn't at all surprised that the scene had pivoted from an agricultural society meeting to a World Martial Arts Tournament.
After all, they were yōkai—strength was the only foundation for a friendly conversation.
Even though he hadn't encountered many high-level yōkai yet, Sū ěr had already begun to grasp this fundamental truth.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not like you," Sū ěr said, the smile he'd been wearing turning cold and grim. "I don't know who sent you to cause trouble for me, but if you can't escape—then die here."
He had no interest in playing out a peaceful negotiation. Sū ěr intended to use death to show whoever was plotting in the shadows that reaching out toward him resulted in losing the hand. He'd start by severing one of their arms.
Once enough yōkai had died here and the location's infamy spread, Sū ěr home would become a taboo land whispered about among yōkai, a place they wouldn't dare set foot in.
"Heh... haha, puh-hahahahahaha!" Sū ěr words seemed to have struck a funny bone. Kazami Yūka raised arm went slack as she stood there, clutching her stomach and laughing hysterically. Her words came out in fits and starts. "I... Hahaha, I really... I'm taking a real liking to you! Hahahaha!"
"——If you can do it——then come and try!" All traces of her laughter vanished in an instant. From behind her messy short hair, a savage, cold, and bloodthirsty expression was fully revealed. "To die in battle against the strong is a pleasure in itself..."
In the next second, she moved.
There was no grand spectacle. Her approach was the exact opposite of the blonde yōkai's when she'd shown her fangs. Not only was there no yōki [demonic energy] saturating the air to blot out the sky, but everything felt perfectly normal. There were no anomalies, yet Sū ěr was certain this was merely a false illusion.
She didn't need pointless yōki to bolster her presence, nor did she need the spectacle of shattering mountains to instill fear. She condensed all her power into a single point, wasting not a shred of it. Faster than the sonic boom of displaced air, the green-haired yōkai had already surged right in front of Sū ěr!
Sū ěr felt neither panic nor fear; every move she made was within his grasp. In that lightning-fast interval, he even had the composure to trace a circle in the air with his index finger, sealing off his beloved vegetable garden.
When the sonic boom from Yūka piercing the air finally reached the garden, it didn't even knock over a single seedling. It merely swayed them slightly, like a gentle morning breeze.
Undoubtedly, this extraordinary courage and calm composure further incensed the green-haired yōkai. The proof was her subsequent strike, which became even more unrestrained and absolute.
No one could treat her attack as nothing. The arrogance of underestimating this power would bring irrevocable death to this male, just like all those before him who had underestimated her fists and were now nothing but bleached bones beneath the earth.