The Train That Devours Life

During the Taisho era, Western things were pouring into the country, which presented both opportunities and challenges.

People's tastes are changing, social trends are changing, and daily life, including clothing, food, housing, and transportation, is changing.

In the old days, people only needed an oxcart or simply two legs to carry bamboo baskets from the countryside to Ueno to sell goods without complaint. But now, more, faster, and larger steam trains are needed to meet this need.

In order to break free from dependence on Western technology, the railway administration has gone from importing and imitating to independent design, and finally developed a standardized and mature product in recent years - the Type 8620 steam locomotive.

It is so named the Mugen Train.

Night falls, inside a third-class carriage.

The electrically powered incandescent bulbs hanging from the roof, despite having brand-new tungsten filaments, flickered as if the current was unstable.

Sawako and Kondo Isami leaned against the window, quietly observing everything inside the carriage.

They are Demon Slayers, Rank 1.

Not long ago, the raven brought news—

A bizarre disappearance case is unfolding on this busy railway line, with ten victims already identified.

The official newspaper, Chung Po News, reported that a "murderer" is lurking along the railway line, and that he is known to commit crimes at night. Passengers are urged to be vigilant.

Therefore, the Demon Slayer Corps dispatched two Demon Slayer members to investigate and determine whether the cause was human or demonic.

Disguised as a merchant couple, they concealed their Nichirin swords within their cargo packages, searching for traces of the demon while cautiously keeping watch on the railway police armed with rifles at each station platform.

woo-

The horn sounded, and the wheels clattered again as the train began to drive deeper into the night.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Sawako asked her partner in a low voice, yawning lazily. "It's already past midnight, and we still haven't noticed anything unusual."

Kondo Isami shook his head: "I don't know. You should get some sleep. I'll call you if anything comes up."

"I'm so sorry, we're on duty together, how could I be the only one slacking off..."

"It's because your husband asked me to take better care of you. Besides, I'm getting old and don't need much sleep."

Kondo Isami reluctantly patted his pocket, wanting to light a cigarette, but after thinking about it carefully, he realized that smoking here might break the rules, so he refrained from doing so and pulled his hand back.

The female swordsman pulled the package to her side, leaned against the car window and chuckled, "Then you won't be polite, goodnight."

To be honest, the two of them had circled the car several times under various pretexts, but they hadn't found a single trace of the ghost.

Maybe he really is some kind of serial killer...

These days, the cabinet is crazy, and the military is crazy too. It's not surprising at all that two of them ran out and started hacking people.

Inside the carriage, passengers either slumped over and dozed off, or stared blankly out the window at the unfathomable night, quietly waiting for the train to arrive at the next station.

Yawn... Huh?

Sawako had only been asleep for a short while when Kondo Isami suddenly realized that he was also feeling a bit sleepy.

This is really unusual. Could it be that I didn't get enough rest yesterday?

He pinched the web of his hand hard, the brief stinging pain bringing a moment of clarity, but it was quickly overwhelmed by an even stronger wave of drowsiness.

"Hello...please show me your ticket..."

Just as Kondo Isami was patting his temples, trying to clear his head a little, the flight attendant arrived.

He looked somewhat haggard, as if he hadn't slept well for many days, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Oh, sorry, sorry, here you go." Kondo Isami reached into his pocket and handed his and Sawako's tickets to the conductor.

The other party didn't seem to want to confirm; they just mechanically stamped the ticket twice with the pliers and left silently.

"Is this guy alright?" Kondo Isami poked his head out, looking at the other person with some concern.

But before he could even put the ticket away, an irresistible wave of sleepiness washed over him.

"...Just take a nap, it should be fine, right?"

He adjusted his posture, dozed off, and soon drifted into the deepest sleep...

"Dad! You're back!"

A clear, bell-like call woke Kondo Isami.

He suddenly opened his eyes and was momentarily stunned.

Inside the small room, the stove was burning brightly, and the air was filled with the delicious aroma of stew.

Before him, a three-year-old girl in a red kimono nestled into his arms like a warm little sun.

"Hehe, Daddy, I missed you." She blinked her bright eyes and hugged Kondo Isami tightly.

How could that be?

They are not.....

His memories began to become blurry and hazy; he couldn't remember some of them clearly.

Who died in the fire? Miyoko wasn't killed by a ghost...

What is a ghost...?

The little girl noticed Kondo Isami's dazed look and frowned slightly in concern. She quickly waved her chubby little hands, exclaiming, "Mommy! Daddy looks a little silly!"

Mother? Miyoko?

Kondo Yu was taken aback, hugged his daughter Xiaoxia tightly in his arms, and looked towards the side door of the hut in a daze.

A gentle-looking woman wearing thick gloves walked out of there with a smile, carrying a steaming pot of soup.

"Yo, you've had a long day. Put Xia down and eat first." Even in hell, Kondo Yo will never forget that elegant long dress and that gaze that was always full of concern and love.

This is his wife, Miyoko! She's not dead! It really was just a nightmare....

Kondo Isami seemed to have all his strength drained away, collapsing onto the tatami mat, panting heavily, feeling that everything had happened so suddenly and so blissfully.

He gently put Xiaoxia down, then hopped over to Meidaizi's side in a few quick steps and took the soup pot from his wife's hands.

"Ouch, it's so hot!" The temperature between his fingertips was so hot that he grimaced and his eyes burned, but he just didn't want to let go, so he quickly moved the soup pot to the center of the low table on the tatami.

"Oh dear, Yong, are you alright?"

His wife looked over with concern, but only saw Kondo Isami's silly grin. Helplessly, she tapped his strong back with her glove.

He sat by the fireplace, watching his wife gently serve rice to Xia, and listening to his daughter chattering away in her childish voice, sharing the day's interesting events. He felt warmth enveloping every cell in his body.

He longed to dream of such days every night, but his dream never came true.

Huh? Why would I want to dream about this? Isn't this just an ordinary day? What was I thinking about just now?

Kondo Isami scratched his head, but quickly gave up on the idea.

Why think about these things? We still have to go to the fields tomorrow.

Oh dear, should I plant potatoes or radishes at this time of year...? I'm starting to feel a bit out of practice...

His lips involuntarily curled into a smile, a genuine and utterly satisfied one.

But just as this feeling of happiness reached its peak, and the soul was completely immersed in supreme satisfaction—

click!

A sudden, crisp sound rang out.

The happy and satisfied smile on Kondo Isami's face was frozen in time.

He sat peacefully by the fireplace, listening attentively to his wife and daughters, like the happiest wax figure.

The fire still flickers, the aroma of rice still wafts, and the figures of my wife and daughters still evoke warmth...

Only he grew cold.

The Infinite Train, Third Class.

Kondo Isami and Sawako remained seated, their backs against the cold carriage wall.

Their heads were tilted slightly to one side, their eyes were gently closed, and their faces wore an unusual serenity and tranquility.

A blissful smile played on Kondo's lips, as if he were embracing the beauty of the entire world in a dream.

A radiant smile of confidence and glory appeared on Sawako's face, perhaps because she had just reached the pinnacle of her career.

However, both of them had a piece of hemp rope tied to their hands, which was connected to the wrists of two other thin boys sitting next to them.

The carriage was deathly silent; everyone was fast asleep.

A figure in a train attendant uniform silently entered the first carriage of the train.

He knelt respectfully on the ground, silently awaiting instructions from the person before him...

No, that wasn't a person...

The man turned his head, his smile morbid and twisted:

"You should thank me, this is a dream only demon hunters get..."

"Although it's a bit troublesome, dying happily in a beautiful dream is the greatest blessing..."

His eyes moved, revealing blue pupils—

[Part 1]