Dawn broke gently across the horizon, and the rising sun cast warm light over the entire world.
Inside an upscale hotel tucked within the red-light district, Lucien awoke in a wide, luxurious bed. He rose slowly, stepping into the bathroom unclothed, rinsing off with cold water before erging with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.
Yesterday, he had finally left the mountains and entered the city to relax for the first ti in months. The change of pace brought him a welco sense of ease.
Ten minutes later, Lucien left the hotel, accompanied by several lightly dressed young won who saw him off with lingering smiles.
His plan was straightforward. Take a train heading toward Yoshiwara.
Yoshiwara was ho to Upper Moon Six—Daki—one half of a notorious twin-demon duo. According to the events of the original tiline, the child of destiny would eventually encounter Lower Moon One, Enmu, aboard the Mugen Train, which then led to the battle with Upper Moon Three, Akaza.
This ti, Lucien had the hotel book him a first-class ticket on a train also nad "Mugen." He hoped to encounter Lower Moon Enmu and, if luck allowed, Akaza as well. Even a small opportunity was still an opportunity. And after three months of Ki cultivation, he needed live combat to test the improvent.
His appearance was casual: a clean white shirt, green beach shorts, flip-flops, and sunglasses. Yesterday he even reduced his hair length, giving him a sharp, refreshed look. Altogether, he appeared bright, confident, and effortlessly handso.
Lucien's first-class seat placed him in the second car, just behind the locomotive. The seats were soft like sofas, and there was even a bar counter for mixing drinks. From the fourth car onward, the seats switched to wooden benches.
"Sir, would you like sothing to drink?"
As soon as Lucien settled into his sofa-like seat, a lightly dressed attendant approached, leaning forward slightly as she smiled, her perfu drifting faintly in the air.
"A glass of red wine," Lucien said calmly, showing no particular interest.
"Please wait a mont," she answered sweetly before walking with a graceful, cat-like sway toward the bar.
Monts later, the train rumbled to life. Lucien sipped his wine in silence while watching the passing scenery through his tinted glasses. Behind the lenses, his athyst eyes narrowed slightly as he sensed two distinct presences among the many ordinary auras around him.
This was Ki perception. Every living being possessed Ki—unique, strong or weak, bright or dim. As long as soone wasn't concealing their aura, and the distance wasn't too far, Lucien could sense it.
Most auras on the Mugen Train belonged to normal humans—children, the elderly, rchants, travelers. Yet two auras stood out like brilliant flas among candles.
One burned passionately, strong like rolling fire. The other was cold, twisted, and eerie, like a dead river flowing beneath moonlight.
Lucien made no move. He still needed to reach Yoshiwara, and dealing with them near his destination would be more efficient.
Hours passed as the train sped deeper into the landscape. Snow and harsh winds whipped across the windows as the sky slowly dimd. Inside, the lights glowed warmly. Cars two through four bustled with attendants delivering als. With a generous enough tip, so passengers indulged in pleasures that explored the "origins of humanity," as the locals called it.
Lucien ordered a plate of steak, and the quality was surprisingly good. He ate slowly as he waited for full darkness.
Cross-legged on his seat afterward, Lucien began to ditate. ditation was simple in theory—clear the mind, clear the heart—but difficult in practice. Ki cultivation required both physical exertion and ntal discipline. At the higher stages, complete unity of mind and body was necessary to unleash full power.
At least, that was what the knowledge of Ki stated. Lucien followed the teachings precisely. Dragon Ball had ntioned similar principles long ago, but Lucien's mory of it had grown vague with ti. Unfortunately, despite three months of trying, he had not been able to master ditation.
Every ti he closed his eyes, his thoughts drifted uncontrollably. It wasn't easy to think of nothing. In fact, it was harder than any battle.
Eventually, the interior of the train fell quiet as passengers drifted into sleep. It was probably around one in the morning.
Lucien snapped his eyes open, irritation simring within him. Hours of ditation, and still no progress. His mind was simply too restless for this thod. He would prefer a hundred rounds of direct combat over this empty-mind nonsense.
Standing up abruptly, Lucien walked toward the first car—toward the locomotive. He needed to vent. Every failed ditation attempt left him frustrated.
The door to the first car's lavish private room was large and wooden. Lucien kicked it open, stepping inside with a dark expression. Only one person occupied the luxurious space—a pale man with dium-length black hair, dressed in Western-style clothing. He swirled a wine glass filled with crimson liquid, but Lucien's sudden entrance made him jolt in alarm.
"Lower Moon One, Enmu?" Lucien asked casually as he dropped into a seat opposite the demon, lighting a cigarette and crossing his legs in a display of utter indifference.
Enmu blinked, startled, then smiled his peculiar, eerie smile.
"Oh my, are you a Hashira? I heard there's a Hashira traveling on this train."
But then his expression shifted sharply. He stared more intently. Athyst eyes. That faint scar. That calm, arrogant posture. Lucien Graves. The demon Muzan had ordered all Upper Moons to hunt.
The one who disappeared for three months, earning punishnts for the Upper Ranks who failed to find him. He was sitting right here. If Enmu killed him, Muzan would reward him with more blood. He might even rise to an Upper Moon.
"You're that golden-armored—" Enmu began, wanting to confirm.
Lucien exhaled a slow ring of smoke. With his posture relaxed and his left eyebrow lifting slightly, he radiated raw, effortless arrogance.
"Looking for ?" he muttered, irritation returning to his voice. His mood had already been dark from failing ditation and from worrying about whether Nezuko would ever adapt to the sun. If she didn't… his hopes for immortality might crumble.
The thought made his anger flare hotter. It felt as if every negative emotion in his body surged at once. A crackle of golden light flashed beside him.
Before Enmu could comprehend what happened, his vision blurred. His body remained seated, unmoving. But his head—his head was in Lucien's hand.
What…? How…? Why was his body still sitting there?
Lucien placed Enmu's head neatly on the table. The hardened blade he had shaped in his right hand faded as he returned to normal, lifting his cigarette again with calm indifference.
His athyst eyes glead with a chilling, unshakable cold.
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