An oni named Seika had just narrowly escaped his death, A group of monks & samurais had tried to ambush him, determinded to put his chaotic endeavors to an end for good

The oni kept running & limping, clutching the fatal wound on his stomach as blood seeps from it, his other hand never loosen its grip on his katana ready to defend himself despite the critical state he is in

He vomited blood & gasped for air before everything turned to black as he fell limp to the ground, ah... is this how he'll die? The oni can't help feeling cold as his eyes slowly closes, his mind swallowed by the cold darkness

"Mmmhg... argh.. that hurt– huh...?"

He's not dead yet..? Why is it soft? Where is he? He was confused, the only thing he knew are that he had opened his eyes again somehow while lying on a futon, shirtless, his wounds are bandaged & where is his katana—

Before more questions could pop into his head, someone entered. A human..?