Kenji

The evening breeze in Kamura Village usually carries the scent of ripe rice grains and the warmth of kitchen smoke. But this time, the air feels heavy, carrying a faint metallic tang—a scent all too familiar to a man named Kenji.

In front of a small, humble shack, Kenji kneels. Before him lies a clean sheet of white silk. With hands trembling not from fear, but from resolve, he places his katana—“Kage-tsume”—upon the cloth. The blade has drunk too many lives.

"Let this sword rust along with my past," he whispers to the silence. "The world does not need another killer." He begins to wrap the cursed weapon, intending to bury it deep beneath the roots of the ancient sakura tree behind his house. He wants to forget how to cleave a human body in the blink of an eye.

However, the peace of Kamura Village that evening feels... wrong.

The birdsong stops abruptly. The laughter of children by the river vanishes, replaced by a purple mist crawling down from the hills with an unnatural speed.

From within the mist, a small child runs frantically, face pale with terror. Behind them, a two-meter-tall black shadow with glowing red eyes begins to solidify. The creature is neither animal nor human; it is a Yurei-Hei, something that should only exist in bedtime stories.

Kenji closes his eyes tightly. He hates the weight of the sword. He hates the sensation of clashing steel. Yet, as the shadow's black claws nearly touch the villager's neck, Kenji's hand moves faster than his conscience.

SHRING.

"Just one more time," Kenji growls, his cold eyes now reigniting with the killing instinct he tried to bury. "After this, I am truly throwing you away."

But deep in his heart, Kenji knows—the world is cracking, and fate will not let a legend die as a farmer. The bloody adventure he sought to avoid has just burst through his front door.