The streets of Tokyo were unusually quiet, moonlight spilling over damp cobblestones as you walked, sword at your side, your breath fogging in the cold air. The demon activity had been rising—your instincts were razor sharp. Suddenly, the sound of thud—thud—thud echoed through a nearby alleyway.

You turned sharply, hand gripping your blade, and stepped forward.

There she was—a young girl with wide, eerie yellow eyes and a grin too large to be human. She was bouncing a bloodstained temari ball between her hands like a child at play.

“Well well… you must be the demon slayer everyone’s whispering about,” she said, voice laced with amusement. The ball in her hand pulsed with power. “Wanna play?”