But the seed of doubt in Tatsuya's mind didn't vanish after the commotion. Instead, it surfaced like a jagged reef hidden beneath the tide.
He didn't go home. Driven by a strange, irresistible impulse, he returned to the Sato home—a place now hollow, draped in a shroud of grief and terror. The cold wind wailed as it whistled through the shattered doors and windows.
Leaning against the icy doorframe with his brow furrowed, Tatsuya replayed every detail of his battle with the bear and compared it to the carnage remaining in this room.
"It's not right... something is still wrong," he muttered.
"The strength and claws of that bear were certainly capable of causing severe lacerations, and most of Uncle Sato's wounds match that... however..."
His gaze seemed to pierce through the decay as he focused on the details he had initially overlooked.
"On the stump of Uncle Sato's arm—besides the tearing—there was a very clean cut near the shoulder. Even though it was mangled by later biting, that was never made by a bear's claw or tooth. That was more like... a strike from an incredibly sharp blade!"
"And the wounds on Kaoru and little Ken... they were too fragmented. Many weren't fatal blows, and they weren't in places a predator would prioritize for food. A hungry bear kills for efficiency; it's instinct. But this scene... this was more like venting. Like playing with food. Like... sadistic slaughter."
"The bear might have just been a latecomer, drawn by the scent of blood after the real 'killer' had already left."
The conclusion made Tatsuya's blood run cold. A chill more piercing than the winter wind crawled up his spine and spread through his body.
"Can a bear... use a blade?" The answer to that absurd question was an obvious no.
So, was the thing that truly murdered the Sato family something more cruel, more cunning, and more... human than an enraged winter bear?
He looked up toward the depths of Mount Momoyama. Under the twilight, the sea of trees looked increasingly dark and treacherous.
"This isn't over."
The wind and snow seemed to intensify, swallowing the boy's whisper and his deep-seated doubts into the vastness of the night.
Five days later, it happened again. Another death.
It had been less than a week since Tatsuya dragged the bear's carcass back to the village. The fragile sense of peace that had begun to rise was popped like a bubble, replaced instantly by an even deeper dread.
The victim this time was A-Ji, an honest, quiet man who had gone up the mountain to chop wood. When he didn't return by evening, his sickly wife went to Old Man Genji, weeping for help. Without a word, Tatsuya gathered a few brave young villagers and headed into the mountains with torches.
It didn't take long. Following A-Ji's usual path, they found it at the edge of a sheltered pine forest. Or rather, they found the "scene."
The snow was stained a deep, semi-frozen crimson. It was thick and nauseating. Shreds of cloth—fragments of the cotton coat A-Ji always wore—were scattered around.
Beyond that, there were only a few bones gnawed perfectly clean, without a single shred of meat left on them, along with bits of flesh and organs splattered onto distant tree trunks and snow. The air was heavy with the scent of iron and the foul musk of ruptured innards.
"Urgh—" One of the villagers doubled over and vomited.
Tatsuya's face was grim. He knelt, using a branch to carefully poke through the remains. The torchlight danced across his face, highlighting his knitted brows and the suppressed fury in his eyes.
"No heavy drag marks... Bears or boars usually drag their prey away," he analyzed quietly, as if organizing his own thoughts. "Looking at the spray pattern and the blood, A-Ji was... torn apart instantly right here. The teeth marks on the bone... they're too fine, yet the power behind them is staggering. A bear or a wolf couldn't do this."
He looked up into the shadowy forest, his voice dropping low.
"Something out there is incredibly fast, immensely strong, has a terrifying bite force, and... it seems to live only to 'eat.' It didn't even bother to take its meal away. It just... dined right here."
The group silently collected the pitiful remains in a cloth. The atmosphere was so heavy it felt frozen.
Back at the village, the wails of A-Ji's wife pierced the night sky. Panic spread through Momoyama Village like a plague.
Old Man Genji sent a rider to the government office in town. The news they brought back was chilling in its indifference.
The officials spoke in bureaucratic platitudes: "Wild beasts are hungry in winter; attacks are common." It was "recorded," and they would send someone to investigate "on a chosen date." In the meantime, the villagers were told to "keep doors locked and be careful with candles."
"A chosen date? By the time they get here, will this village even exist?" Tatsuya nearly laughed in anger when he heard the report. These damn officials... do they think the lives of us country folk don't matter?
He looked at the village—everyone living in fear, doors bolted as soon as the sun set, a dead silence so heavy even the dogs didn't dare bark. He thought of the Satos and A-Ji's remains. A fierce sense of responsibility surged within him.
"I can't wait any longer," Tatsuya told himself.
He carefully recalled the locations of the two tragedies. Both were in the woods just east of the village. "The activity range seems to center on the east side... its 'hunting ground' is right here. Once it's hungry, it comes down."
Based on the destruction and the unusual bite marks, Tatsuya judged that this unknown "beast" was several times stronger and more ferocious than the bear he had killed.
A direct head-on fight was out of the question.
Tatsuya began his preparations. He dug out all his savings and traded the remaining bear meat for three of the largest, most viciously toothed leg traps he could find. Then, he went to visit Old Man Matsumoto, a retired hunter.
"Old Man Matsumoto, let me borrow your 'old friend'." Tatsuya looked at the Murata rifle on the wall—well-maintained but clearly unused for years.
Matsumoto's clouded eyes looked at Tatsuya, then at the gloomy sky outside. He sighed. "Tatsuya, lad... that thing... it might not be an ordinary beast. This gun is old, and I only have two bullets left. My aim... well..."
"Two is enough. It's good for courage, if nothing else," Tatsuya said, trying to keep his tone light.
Ultimately, Matsumoto solemnly handed over the rifle and two brass bullets. Additionally, Tatsuya managed to talk the village blacksmith into giving him a length of old iron chain, as thick as a finger and exceptionally sturdy.
"If it really is something that targets humans specifically..." Tatsuya looked at his gear, his eyes sharp. "Then it would be a waste not to use the perfect 'bait'."
He meant himself.
Night fell again. The snow had eased, but the wind was colder. Carrying his heavy gear, Tatsuya slipped into the snowy woods to the east. He chose a relatively open area with a massive boulder at his back. He carefully camouflaged two of the traps with snow and dry leaves, topping them with fresh, bloody meat.
Then, he placed the third and largest trap a short distance in front of himself. No bait.
"Come on. If you want a human that badly..."
Leaning against the freezing boulder, Tatsuya kept the rifle within reach, the iron chain wrapped around his waist, and his hunting knife gripped tight. He took a deep breath of the frigid air, suppressing his nerves. Well, isn't this great? I'm basically delivering takeout to the door. I just hope the 'customer' isn't too picky... or too 'enthusiastic'.
Time ticked away in the frozen silence. Moonlight occasionally pierced the clouds, casting mottled, eerie shadows on the snow. The distant howl of an unknown beast only added to the gloom. Tatsuya's limbs began to go numb from the cold, but he forced himself to stay alert, his ears straining for any sound.
In the middle of the night, when even the moon had vanished and the world was plunged into total darkness—
An indescribable chill crawled up Tatsuya's spine. It wasn't the cold; it was a primal, instinctive terror—a rejection of something "other."
Then came a heavy, revolting stench: the smell of rotting flesh mixed with a sickly sweet aroma.
Tatsuya's muscles tensed instantly. All traces of sleep vanished. He stared into the darkness. Something was moving. Fast.
It's here!
A dark shadow darted from the trees like a wraith, heading straight for one of the baited traps!
CRACK!
The sound of the mechanism triggering was deafening in the silent night. It was followed by a non-human shriek—a mixture of agony and explosive rage!
Tatsuya's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He strained his eyes to see what it was. At that moment, a weak sliver of moonlight fell upon the clearing.
When he saw the creature, Tatsuya's breath stopped. His mind went blank.
It wasn't a beast.
It was a humanoid monster.
It was taller than an average man, with sickly bluish-gray skin and a bald head covered in bulging, distorted veins. Its mouth was split open all the way to its ears, filled with jagged, dagger-like fangs. It was thrashing wildly because the trap had clamped shut on its lower leg.
But the most terrifying part was its eyes—like crimson lanterns, glowing with nothing but pure hunger and brutality.
"What... what is this thing?!"
A wave of shock crashed over Tatsuya. All the puzzles—the unnatural wounds, the clean cuts, the sadistic habits—made sense now. His opponent wasn't an animal at all.
It was a Demon.
The pale moonlight illuminated the terrifying, fanged face. However, as Tatsuya's eyes swept over the creature's distorted features and noticed a semi-rotten, unique birthmark on its neck, a chill more biting than the winter night froze his very blood.
"Is that... Uncle Maeda?!" Tatsuya gasped. He recognized the monster. It was Maeda, a woodcutter who had gone missing on the mountain a month ago!
In that moment of shock, Tatsuya's foot shifted instinctively, snapping a dry branch buried under the snow.
Snap.
The sound was like a thunderclap.
The "Maeda" demon stopped its screeching. Those blood-red eyes locked onto Tatsuya's hiding spot with terrifying precision. It seemed to feel no pain from its trapped leg, or perhaps the pain only fueled its savagery. Its wide mouth split into a grin, dripping thick saliva.
"Hungry... so hungry..."
A raspy, broken voice—like sandpaper against a throat—came from its mouth. "Fresh... meat... must taste... so good... Hehe... Found you!"
In those eyes, there was not a shred of human reason, pain, or memory. There was only the primal, absolute greed for living flesh.
"No!"
Tatsuya shook his head violently, casting away the momentary weakness of recognition. His eyes turned sharp and determined again. "That's not Uncle Maeda anymore! Uncle Maeda would never look at a person like that! What the hell is this thing?!"
As his internal roar subsided, the demon let out a howl: "GIVE ME... FOOD!!"
With a sickening wrench, it tore itself free from the heavy iron trap, ripping away a large chunk of its own calf muscle. But almost instantly, the flesh at the wound began to writhe. It was healing at a visible rate.
What kind of recovery is that?! Tatsuya's pupils shrank.
"ROAR!" The demon turned into a bluish-gray blur, lunging at Tatsuya with a gust of foul wind. It was incredibly fast!
There was no time to think. Tatsuya raised the rifle. Relying on his extraordinary dynamic vision and the instincts honed from years of hunting, he pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The gunshot exploded through the silent woods. The lead slug struck the demon square in the chest, blowing a bloody hole through it. The massive impact halted its momentum, and it let out a pained shriek.
A hit!
Tatsuya felt a surge of hope, but it was short-lived. The hole in the demon's chest was already stitching itself back together. The demon merely shook its head, its crimson eyes becoming even more violent as it locked onto him and lunged again.
"Hungry! Give me... your blood and flesh!"