Death to you. A phrase the demon "Bloodstrider" Mura knows all too well; living out his unusual life as a would-be assassin in an unforgiving world. But in a twist of fate, Mura is exiled to Earth, stripped of his powers and is now hunted by those h...
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Batō Kōkyo, Yomi — Yomi's Imperial Palace the afternoon after Orochi's assassination. It was a pleasant day, the black sun of the underworld shone brightly and gave off a pleasant warmth. Normally this day would be unlike any other, however after the events of the previous night the entire nation was on the brink of a second war with the Shinigami.
Countless citizens and officials were at the massive palace located within the heart of Yomi's capital city; all of them were dressed in black to pay their respects. The bloody aftermath was cleaned up, as if nothing had happened. The destroyed pillars and walls were restored using magic and around-the-clock labor. It was a deceptively calm and serene sight.
In the throne room, with the doors open to the public was a massive golden shrine erected to the deceased emperor. Orchids too numerous to count were placed at his alter as dozens wept and more stood stoically. A framed painting of Orochi hung in the center of the gilded shrine, surrounded by incense that burned for the fallen demon lord. The corpse had already been cremated and buried within Soku-no-Kumi, the final resting place of rulers past.
Five individuals stood above the others in attendance, going largely unnoticed on the terrace that overlooked the wake. This group above all the others were regarded not just throughout the entire underworld, but all realms as the greatest team of killers that existed. The Jikininki.
"What became of the mongrel after that entire debacle, Lord Nergal?" spoke a woman in a sultry, raspy voice.
"We arrested him shortly after he had already killed the late Majesty. Unfortunately, we hadn't arrived in time to save him." The one named Nergal replied back in a stern, yet unconcerned tone.
One of the figures with messy green hair looked up at the others, as he was currently squatting on the floor. Around his bare feet were beige wrappings, caked with dirt and other foreign substances.
"Quite honestly if you want my input, I say we have a good ol' fashioned lynching! That usually helps restore morale in the people."
A blond man, his hair tied into a single braid, smacked the green-haired man with the back of his hand. His piercing red eyes were widened and manic.
"Nobody asked for ya input, jackass!" He yelled, his accent distinctly from the Kansai region of Japan where he spent most of his time while on Earth.
The green-haired man shot him a deadly glare while rubbing his head.
"Don't forget that I outrank you, asswipe. You may be known as the 'Golden Devil of Yomi' around here, but to me you're still just my subordinate!" The man spat out.
Suddenly a tall figure beside them lifted his hand without saying a word. He had a lean physique as he towered above the others like a stalk of corn. His skin had an unnatural jaundice that clung and stretched across his muscle and bone. He lifted his index finger, revealing long sharp fingernails that were black as a moonless night.
