Offering Sake and a Sakazuki

The man heaved himself back to his feet, using the katana (which was still jammed into Ruitaka's back) as support. Shards of glass pierced his skin. He looked around dazed.

Doji's All-In-One Motorbike Shop was all black. Motorcycles, wheels, and accessories dotted the walls and floors. A decoration with skulls and chains hung around the empty counter.

Suddenly, 8 bikers came out of the employees only door. Like the rest of the Devils on Wheels, they adorned black gloves, vest and a helmet. But at the same time, they felt different from their average goons. They walked more confidently, and a thin black mist seemed to circle around them reeking of fear.

The man pulled his sword out of Ruitaka's strewn corpse. Blood spurted out of the wound. The man then unsheathed his second katana and looked completely ready to fight despite the countless pieces of glass still embedded inside of him.

The 8 bikers slowly circled him. They pulled out their own weapons: chains, knives, and a quarterstaff.

All of them charged towards him at once. The man leapt out of the way, but they were prepared.

He parried the chain flying towards him but was struck by a quarterstaff from behind, and it flung him into a group of cycles on display.

For an average human, that blow would have shattered their back. But it did not even phase the man. He got to his feet and prepared for the other 6 men who were sprinting towards him.

The fight was brutal. These bikers were considerably stronger than Ibara and Ruitaka and there were 8 of them. Worst of all, they showed no skin, so it was impossible to tell whether one was a swift blue oni or a burley red oni. And they used that to their advantage. The blue onis quickly snicked small cuts while the red ones came into the confusion to leave devastating blows.

But the man kept fighting too. Each of oni's strikes were followed up by a counterattack. Every time he would get back on his feet and keep on fighting as if he wasn't injured or tired at all.

Slowly, each of the 9 bikers fell to their deaths after multiple slashes and bullet holes.

The man was bruised and cut all over with bits of glass still sticking out of him. He stumbled onto the wall and slowly sat down. He actually looked tired for the first time. He was just about to start picking off the glass shards off his flesh, when...

A set of slow claps filled the room.

"Bravo... Bravo" came a distant voice.

"Took down 8 of my strongest soldiers while they were boosted by dark magic."

The voice revealed itself.

He was a man with a strong build, an actual man, not an oni. He was wearing a black sleeveless vest and fingerless gloves. His arms and neck were covered in tattoos. But the most fascinating thing about him was that he was wearing a traditional red oni mask which covered his face.

He gave another set of hollow claps.

"Truly awe-inspiring." Although he was wearing a mask, his voice didn't feel muffled at all as if the voice wasn't coming from behind the mask at all...

"My name is Shuten-Doji, and as you guessed, I am the leader of the Devil on Wheels clan."

He strolled to the counter and took out a bottle of sake and a small flat cup, a sakazuki.

"Want one?"

He pointed the sakazuki towards the man who was already on his feet. The man just glared at him silently.

"Of course not," Shuten-Doji muttered casually.

He poured himself a cup of sake and slowly sipped it through the mouth hole of the mask.

"Aah! That's the shit!"

He then grabbed the whole bottle of sake and downed it in a single second as the sake leaked out of his mouth and traced around the mask.

He threw the empty bottle behind him, and it shattered to a thousand pieces.

"Well you came here to fight so might as well get started on it now."

Shuten-Doji stretched his neck as it cracked and began casually walking towards him.

Suddenly the mask didn't seem like a mask at all. It looked like it was made of actual skin and the horns were genuine ivory. Two glowing pupils filled up the empty sockets like miniature suns. Shadows started bending unnaturally, and Shuten-Doji's body began changing shape.

His tattoo-littered arms became blood red as the muscles bulged out of proportion and veins popped. The horns and tusks grew larger along with his entire body. His nails grew thick and sharp, and his vest was shredded under the transformation. He grew long silver hair on top of his scalp, and it ran down to his back.

He began lumbering towards the man, the ground shaking with every step. Bikes and wheels fell off their walls, and the lights rattled as if there was something inside the bulbs trying to escape.

A circle of thin blackish-purple mist surrounded the man. He sprinted diagonally as more of these circles formed under his path. These circles erupted with dark magic which shot to the sky; each one's explosion of power was a little delayed from the one formed before it.

The man was able to dodge all of them and lept towards the giant oni with both katanas in hand.

Shuten-Doji punched him as he was flying towards him. There was a thunderous boom, and the man shot towards the counter which exploded into wooden shards on impact.

The man quickly stood back up and pointed his weapon at his towering enemy. A flurry of bullets sank into Shuten-Doji's crimson flesh. He stumbled back in surprise, but regained composure and continued to shamble towards him. Bullets continue to pierce him, but every wound seemed to be covered up instantaneously with his regeneration.

Shuten Doji brought up his arm which began glowing with darkness.

Suddenly a black hand the size of the oni's own hand formed and grabbed onto the man. The man lost the grip to his katana-guns as they clattered to the ground.

The black hand flew towards Shuten-Doji, and it sank into his actual hand.

Now, the man was face-to-face with the leader of the Devils on Wheels, being stuck under the powerful grip of the oni himself.