The Yoshiwara district, also known as the “pleasure district,” was an officially recognized area for entertainment and pleasure during the Edo period.
This area was filled with brothels, where the courtesans, known as “yūjo,” were divided into various types and ranks based on their popularity and training. The top courtesans were called “oiran,” admired by countless patrons, and were essentially money-making machines.
Today, in the Yoshiwara district, it was the day for the procession of the oiran “Warabihime” from the Kyogoku House. Crowds lined the streets, eager to catch a glimpse of the beauty.
However, there were exceptions. At the end of the street, in an izakaya (a Japanese pub), three men were sitting together, drinking in frustration and sighing.
A man dressed as a ranger was slowly cleaning his longbow, looking utterly dejected, as if he had just lost his mother.
“Sigh, why can’t we find any clues?”
As he spoke, he subtly glanced to his side, his eyes clearly showing dissatisfaction.
The three belonged to the same squad. Before entering the Demon Slayer world, they had bought some secret information through the swordsman. It detailed rumors of a demon lurking in the pleasure district, with a high chance of triggering a rare hidden quest.
Trusting the information, they had skipped the Natagumo Mountain incident. After all, in a cooperative mode, they would still benefit from other people completing the main quests.
Forgoing the benefits of the main quest, the squad headed straight for the pleasure district upon entering the story world, searching for the rumored hidden demon.
The idea was good, but they seemed to have forgotten one thing.
How could three people without special sensing abilities find Daki, who had been hiding for decades? Even members of the Demon Slayer Corps needed to face her directly to uncover the disguise of an Upper Moon. Relying on luck alone in a vast crowd was futile.
Thus, the current situation unfolded, with the three of them sulking and drinking in frustration.
“Damn it.” Perhaps feeling the gaze of his companion, the swordsman suddenly cursed viciously. “If we can’t find anything, let’s switch sides and join the demons.”
In narrative-based world conflicts like this, there were usually ways to switch allegiances.
If successful, the main quest would change accordingly, potentially compensating for the earlier loss of benefits.
However, this meant the money spent on the information was wasted.
What the swordsman said was initially a vent, but the ranger’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Yes, we can switch sides and reveal the hidden demon’s whereabouts.”
“No, we can even try to find out its identity, enrich our information, and gain extra rewards.”
His excitement grew as if their losses could soon be recouped with some profit on the side.
The idea was good but was soon doused with cold water by his teammate.
“Switch sides? Do you have anything to make them accept you?”
The man in a purple robe played with a crystal ball without raising his head, mocking, “You’re not that bastard who got invited by the Twelve Kizuki shortly after entering. To switch sides, we’d need to kill a dozen or so demon hunters. Where will you find that many?”
The term “bastard” referred to another reincarnator who had entered the Demon Slayer world with them. Due to his special physique, he was invited to join the Twelve Kizuki soon after entering.
Knowing the whole story, the man knew they couldn’t replicate it.
Given the derogatory term, it was clear there was no possibility of a voluntary introduction from the other party.
“Forget it, let’s just keep searching. Who knows, the demon might be spying on us nearby.”
Scolded by his teammate, the ranger dared not express any discontent. It was clear that the man in the robe was the team’s core.
“Hmm?” Preparing to head out, the ranger suddenly noticed someone at the corner of the street whose attire didn’t match the surroundings.
Despite the space’s disguise, weapons and clothing wouldn’t be exposed, but the reincarnator’s unique aura was unmistakable.
The ranger liked to describe it as “eagle-eyed and wolf-hearted.”
Amidst the harmonious scene, where everyone was cheering for the oiran, this person looked ready to draw his sword at any moment.
Even a typical demon wouldn’t show such hostility to everyone. This unique aura was exclusive to reincarnators.
“We’ve got a rat.”
Hearing his companion’s alert, the other two quickly got into character. The earlier laziness and complaints vanished instantly.
Stopping the impulsive swordsman, the man in the robe gently touched his crystal ball, which soon glowed with shimmering light.
“Let me see what we’re dealing with.”
As the man worked, the once-murky crystal ball cleared up, revealing the scene outside on the street.
Locking onto the target, a series of ethereal characters appeared beside him.
[Reincarnator Number: 14552]
[Threat Level: Extremely High]
[Recommended Number of Attackers: 4]
[Estimated Survival Rate: 12%]
Seeing the characters gradually fade from the crystal ball, the squad exchanged worried glances, feeling chills down their spines.
The crystal ball had a prophecy ability, serving as a unique form of data detection. It could estimate the difficulty and survival rate of targeting someone.
The fact that it recommended four attackers meant they needed another teammate. With their current lineup, they had only a 10% chance of survival.
This indicated that the person below was a terrifying existence they couldn’t afford to provoke.
“Damn it.” The swordsman’s exclamation caught the other two’s attention. Looking closely, they saw the man in the picture suddenly scanning his surroundings.
As experienced reincarnators who had survived six worlds, they knew what this meant.
Just as the man in the robe was about to deactivate the crystal ball, the target suddenly looked directly at the screen, causing a chill to run down their spines.
“His Perception must be extremely high.” The swordsman gasped.
This was obvious. Normally, the man in the robe would scold him for stating the obvious, but now, they needed to think of an explanation.
The man was a loner. Normally, a soloist would prioritize Strength, Agility, and Constitution, but high Perception wasn’t typically useful in direct combat.
Even the nervous ranger’s primary attribute wasn’t Perception; he chose Agility.
In the reincarnation community, there was a saying: if you encounter a soloist with extremely high Perception, find a way to resolve conflicts peacefully.
“Relax, it might not be that bad.” The man in the robe tried to calm his teammates. “Don’t forget the world mode. Fighting within the same faction has huge penalties.”
Killing wouldn’t yield treasure chests and would deduct merit points and plot points. Normally, no one would want to fight.
The man in the robe had a point, but he forgot one thing.
Why was the person in the pleasure district? Was it also because of the demon rumors?
Ultimately, whether to kill depended on benefits. If the gains outweighed the losses, the situation might not be as ideal as they thought.
“So, should we…” The ranger wanted to negotiate. He knew the horrors of high Perception abilities.
Especially in a bustling town, it was paradise for someone with high Perception.
Such a person could slowly use their ability to toy with you, and you might not even know where they were.
But before he could suggest anything, the ranger suddenly looked up at the red-haired swordsman on the beam.
Their eyes met, and the ranger felt goosebumps.
It felt like a blade was hovering around his neck, ready to cut his throat with any wrong move.
So, even as he gripped his longbow tightly, he dared not make any extra movements.
At this moment, the other two noticed something was wrong.
Looking up at the six-armed figure, the swordsman murmured, “That’s not the person we saw earlier.”
“Idiot, that’s a puppet.” The man in the robe wished he could strike him with lightning.
But now he understood why the target’s Perception was so high. It turned out he was a rare puppeteer.
A solo puppeteer, is as rare as a solo healer.
Choosing this path and acting alone, he was either a fool or a master.
Given the 10% survival rate, the man in the robe wisely ruled out the former.
After a few seconds of silence, seeing the puppet didn’t immediately attack, the squad visibly relaxed.
The wizard slowly stood up, solemnly apologizing, “Please forgive our rudeness. It was a misunderstanding.”
Thinking this might ease the tension, he was shocked when the puppet suddenly drew six long swords.
This time, not just the ranger, but even the dull-witted swordsman gasped, instinctively drawing his sword and shield.
The ranger raised his longbow but couldn’t muster the courage to shoot.
The constant sense of threat made them shiver.
Especially the two long swords on the puppet’s arms, which looked extraordinary. They might be high-quality or even extraordinary-grade weapons.
If hit repeatedly, the man in the robe doubted he could last ten seconds.
But as veterans, they knew begging or surrendering wouldn’t help.
If the opponent was determined, they had no choice but to fight.
What happened next was even more baffling.
Just as the squad braced for battle, the red-haired puppet smashed through the window and leaped out.
It seemed it only wanted to scare them from the start.
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