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Rumors had begun to spread like wildfire. Stories of people vanishing without a trace, whispers of shadows lurking in the dead of night. The elders dismissed them as mere folktales, cautionary myths passed down through generations to instill fear in children. But there were those who believed otherwise—those who insisted that the truth behind these tales was far more terrifying.
Chung Myung, however, was not one of them.
“Demons?” He scoffed, arms crossed as he leaned against the wooden railing of Mount Hua’s training grounds. “You mean the kind that sneak into your room at night and gobble you up whole? Or the ones that fly through the skies, stealing away children in their sleep?”
Jo Gul, standing beside him, frowned. “You joke, but people have been disappearing, Chung Myung. And not just in one or two places. Across entire villages. Even skilled martial artists have gone missing.”
“Bah, coincidence.” Chung Myung waved a hand dismissively. “People go missing all the time. Bandits, wild beasts, maybe even internal sect conflicts. But demons? Really?”
Still, even as he said it, something gnawed at him. A strange unease settled in his gut. The disappearances were too widespread, too unnatural. But he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.
That night, the truth came crashing down upon Mount Hua.
A monstrous entity arrived at their sect, shrouded in the darkness of midnight. Its form was grotesque—its eyes glowed with an eerie hunger, its body pulsed with unnatural energy. The disciples of Mount Hua, trained to fight human foes, found themselves woefully unprepared. Swords slashed, fists struck, yet the creature regenerated with terrifying speed, healing from wounds that would have killed any ordinary being.
Chung Myung lunged forward, blade in hand. He was faster, stronger—his strikes were precise, cutting deep into the creature’s flesh. But it didn’t matter. The wounds closed instantly, as if he had done nothing at all.
“What the hell…?” he muttered under his breath, gripping his sword tighter.
Then, before he could react, a blur of motion sliced through the air. In an instant, the demon’s head flew from its body. For a moment, there was silence. And then—disintegration. The creature’s form crumbled into ash, vanishing into nothingness.
Standing amidst the fading remnants was a boy no older than fifteen. He wore a loose haori, his long black hair flowing behind him. His expression was unreadable, his posture relaxed as if he had merely swatted away an insect.
The disciples of Mount Hua stood frozen, eyes wide with shock. Who was this boy?
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
The boy exhaled softly, sheathing his blade. “no one,” he said simply.
Before Chung Myung could press further, another voice rang out in the night.
“Muichiroooo! Wait for me!”
From the shadows emerged a girl, panting heavily as she ran toward them. Her short, pink hair was a stark contrast against the dark night. Her face was flushed, a mix of exhaustion and frustration painted across her features.
“You left me behind again!” she huffed, stomping a foot. “I told you to slow down! Do you know how hard it is to run after you?!”
Muichiro barely spared her a glance. “You were too slow.”
“I—You—Ugh! You’re so frustrating sometimes!” she whined, crossing her arms.
Chung Myung blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sudden shift in atmosphere. Just moments ago, they had been fighting for their lives. And now… this?
“Who is she?” he asked, still trying to make sense of what was happening.
The girl straightened, brushing stray strands of pink hair from her face. “I’m his partner! And his student!”
“More like my burden,” Muichiro muttered under his breath.
“I heard that!” she shot back, puffing out her cheeks.
Muichiro ignored her and turned toward the darkness beyond Mount Hua’s gates. “We’re leaving.”
The girl pouted but followed, mumbling complaints under her breath. Just before they disappeared into the night, she turned back, sticking out her tongue at Chung Myung. Then, just like that, they were gone.
Chung Myung exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell..just happened?”
..
The bustling city was alive with the sounds of merchants calling out their wares, the chatter of townspeople, and the distant melody of a street performer’s flute. Chung Myung and his companions—Yoon Jong, Jo Gul, and Baek Cheon—had spent weeks searching for any trace of the supposed demon hunters. The rumors were persistent, yet every lead they pursued turned into nothing more than folktales passed down by superstitious elders.
"This is pointless," Jo Gul sighed, rubbing his temple. "We've been searching for weeks, and all we get are these ridiculous old tales."
Yoon Jong crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. "And yet, something doesn’t add up. If demons are truly just myths, why are there reports of disappearances? Why do some accounts sound eerily similar, despite coming from different regions?"
Chung Myung, who had been unusually quiet, watched the crowd with narrowed eyes. His gut told him there was more to this than mere superstition. But just as he was about to speak, his attention was caught by something—or rather, someone.
Seated at a small street-side eatery was none other than the boy who had beheaded that so-called immortal demon a few weeks ago. Muichiro Tokito, with his long black-to-green hair and vacant yet sharp gaze, was calmly eating dango, unbothered by the lively crowd around him. Beside him sat a pink-haired girl—his companion, no doubt—munching happily on her own portion.
Chung Myung's interest sharpened. He gestured to his group to stay put as he approached the two. "Fancy meeting you here."
Muichiro barely spared him a glance, continuing to chew slowly. The girl, however, brightened up immediately. "Oh! You’re the sect guy, right? The one who—"
Before she could finish, Muichiro swiftly covered her mouth with his hand, silencing her mid-sentence. His expression remained unreadable, but his tone was firm. "Don’t talk so freely. It’s classified information."
The girl let out a muffled protest, squirming slightly. Muichiro sighed and removed his hand only to give her a deadpan stare. "I told you before, don’t go running your mouth about things you don’t understand."
Chung Myung watched the exchange with growing curiosity. "So, you really are hiding something."
Muichiro exhaled, unimpressed. "It's none of your business. Go back to your little sect and play swords with your friends."
The pink-haired girl finally freed herself and pouted. "Muichiro! That’s rude!"
"It’s the truth," Muichiro replied flatly, finishing his dango. "You wouldn’t understand even if I explained. Besides, it’s not my job to educate ignorant swordsmen about things beyond their comprehension."
Chung Myung’s eye twitched. The sheer audacity of this kid was almost amusing. Almost.
The tension in the air grew heavier as the conversation stalled, each side weighing their words carefully. For the first time in a long while, Chung Myung felt a genuine curiosity clawing at him. There was something here—something real. And he intended to find out what it was.
He let out a small, amused scoff and leaned forward slightly. "Oh? Is that so? Then why don’t you enlighten me just a little? You see, I get rather impatient when people dangle secrets in front of my face."
Muichiro merely blinked, his face remaining impassive. "That’s unfortunate for you."
Baek Cheon, who had been watching from a distance, finally lost his patience and stepped forward. "Hey, kid. You’re acting way too cocky for someone eating street food like a commoner. If you know something, then spit it out."
The pink-haired girl nervously glanced between them before nudging Muichiro. "Maybe we should just tell them a tiny bit? I mean, he does look pretty determined."
Muichiro didn’t even look at her. "No."
Chung Myung tilted his head, an amused glint in his eyes. "You’re interesting. I like you."
"I don’t care," Muichiro deadpanned.
Yoon Jong, sensing the growing tension, quickly intervened. "Alright, enough posturing. We’re here for answers, not a street fight."
Muichiro finished the last bite of his dango and stood up, brushing off his haori. "Then you’re wasting your time. We have no reason to share anything with you."
With that, he turned to leave, the pink-haired girl quickly scrambling after him. But as they walked away, Chung Myung felt something stir in his chest. A nagging feeling, one that told him this encounter was only the beginning of something much bigger.
Note: my oc name is Chigiri, she's Muichiro tsugoku. This is my second crossover series. Go to my profile to see more! Hope you like it..