Pushing open the wooden doors bathed in light, I stepped onto the stage.

Four men were already present, waiting for me.

As cheers erupted with my arrival, the four men began to speak.

“You finally showed up!”

“This scumbag!”

The man with snake-like eyes raised a hand to silence the jeers, his gaze fixed on my hands as if to inspect them. I had learned their names: the snake-eyed man was Scissors, the tall one was Crook, the short but muscular one was Boston, and the average-built man with droopy eyes was Club.

“…You really don’t have any weapons, do you?”

His voice was deep and menacing. I lightly tapped my chest twice with my fist and smirked at Scissors.

Scissors furrowed his brow, confused, but I ignored him and approached the group.

Now, it's time for a fair fight.

Don’t think crying will get you mercy.

“…So you’re really just a crazy fight addict,” Scissors muttered, raising one hand. The others dispersed to the sides.

Facing me head-on, Scissors raised his fists to his face in a fighting stance.

“No holding back today. Come at me with everything you’ve got.”

Stopping in my tracks, I spread my arms wide. Scissors blinked, confused for a moment, then sneered mockingly, snapping his fingers.

Watching his movements, I turned to my right and faced forward.

There stood Crook, bringing down a fist from his tall height.

I intentionally caught his punch with my forehead, thrusting it forward as if headbutting his fist. His punch shattered instantly.

“Ahhh! Ahhh!”

Crook screamed in pain, stumbling back a step or two. A large stone fell from his crushed fist. It seemed he had been clutching the stone to strike harder, but it turned out to be a self-destructive move against my iron-hard forehead.(TL/N: Tanjiro is that you?)

With Crook stepping back, the barrier surrounding me collapsed.

I charged toward the stunned Crook, raising one arm horizontally to hook it around his neck.

Using the momentum of my run, I swung my body around, locking Crook in my elbow.

With my arm securing his body, I simply shifted my weight. That was enough to send Crook spinning like a windmill through the air before slamming him shoulder-first into the ground.

Stepping over the fallen Crook, I turned to face Scissors and Boston approaching me.

Club was the farthest away and would take some time to reach me.

Judging this, I focused on Boston, who was closing in. I slapped outward from the inside, striking Boston’s face and blinding him momentarily.

Seizing the chance, I scooped Boston into a horizontal hold, lifted him high, and slammed him down to the ground.

Ignoring the writhing Boston, I spun around and unleashed a back kick.

My kick landed on Scissors’ arm, causing him to stagger backward.

“Take this!”

At that moment, Club lunged at me from my left, aiming a punch at my face.

I raised my shoulder to block the punch and absorbed the impact as Club collided with me.

Grabbing his shoulder and neck to restrain him, I used my other hand to grip his waist.

“Hmph!”

I lifted Club as if uprooting him from the ground, leaving him in a handstand position over my shoulder.

Amidst the roaring crowd, I deliberately fell backward, slamming Club headfirst into the ground.

It was a dangerous landing; he might not have survived.

But as images of a battered Emera flashed through my mind, my thoughts turned cold.

“Y-you bastard!”

The remaining Scissors shouted in anger, and I turned my gaze to him.

He was holding a knife with a blade about twenty centimeters long.

“…So you weren’t unarmed after all?”

I muttered, and Scissors sneered, pointing the knife at me.

“Idiot! It doesn’t matter what you do; one stab is all it takes to end you!”

Confident in his advantage, Scissors laughed.

Sighing, I extended a hand toward him.

“W-what…!”

Ignoring his stammering, I walked toward him, palm outstretched.

“What are you doing?! Stop! Don’t come any closer!”

Fear crept into his voice as he backed away with each step I took.

Taking a bold stride, I closed the distance.

“…What’s wrong?”

I asked softly, and Scissors’ face twitched as he tightened his grip on the knife.

Then, as he slashed at my extended hand, I retracted it and grabbed the knife blade from the outside with my other hand.

“It’s over.”

I disarmed him, moved to his side, and hoisted him onto my shoulder, bent sideways.

Though Scissors flailed, punching my face, I paid him no mind. Carrying him like this, I leapt sideways.

The weight of our combined bodies slammed into Scissors’ neck and head as he hit the ground with a sickening crack.

Turning back, I saw Crook cradling his broken fist and Boston kneeling, gasping for breath.

I charged at Boston, stepping on his knee and striking his face with mine. Then, I unleashed a double-footed flying kick at Crook, sending him flying several meters.

As the only one standing on the stage, I raised my hand. The crowd erupted in cheers, chanting my name.

Basking in their applause, I turned my feet toward my comrades.