"It is about observing..."
"He is watching from the sidelines, observing the conflict between the Demon Slayer Corps and Muzan."
"He remains neutral... but not completely neutral."
Within just a few days, Kagaya Ubuyashiki's life finally came to an end. He could no longer stand or walk, and spent all his time lying in bed, cared for by his wife and children.
His eyes seemed to have lost the ability to see, yet his mind remained sharp and active. Even in his final moments, he was focused entirely on planning for the future of the Demon Slayer Corps.
He murmured to himself, his thoughts repeatedly returning to Oboro.
He trusted in Shuji's abilities... yet even so, he knew that in the days ahead, the Corps would face not just the threat of Muzan, but also the presence of Oboro.
Shuji was still so young, and there was still so much he needed to learn...
"Father."
Shuji Ubuyashiki sat on his knees beside him. As a young boy, his face still held traces of childhood innocence, but his eyes were red with sorrow.
"Shuji..."
"I am here, Father."
"Remember this... As long as Oboro does not side with Muzan, or return to being a demon himself, you must never make an enemy of him. I have finally realized that in his eyes, both the Demon Slayers and demons are little more than weak creatures. He is... like a human standing beneath a large tree, watching ants fight with one another. He helped the Demon Slayer Corps not because he wanted us to defeat Muzan, but simply because he was altering the course of events. Once Muzan begins to falter, he will surely step in as well... He is doing this purely for his own amusement."
Kagaya gripped his son's hand tightly, his voice steady but filled with heavy gravity as he spoke his warning.
"Yes, Father," Shuji replied.
With these words, Oboro came to seem less like a human being and more like someone looking down from a great height, with a strange, detached sense of enjoyment—someone who treated the lives of others as if they were nothing, valuing nothing and no one.
It was easy to understand why he thought this way... At first glance, everything seemed to fit that description perfectly.
But in reality, given the state of life in this world, people like them—those he compared to ants—were far too insignificant to hold his interest. He was simply guiding the overall direction of the world.
Of course, this deeper meaning was something Kagaya could never truly see, trapped as he was within the limits of a mortal's perspective.
He had misunderstood Oboro.
But this was the conclusion he had reached after using every ounce of his strength and wisdom in his final moments. He had done all he could to lift just a small part of the mysterious veil that surrounded the man.
"However... he has also underestimated our resolve. The Demon Slayer Corps is not a puppet that can be controlled by anyone. I believe that in the near future, we will surely put an end to Muzan's life! Even if he steps in to help turn the tide in Muzan's favor, he may not succeed... Ants may be small, but they have their own paths to walk and their own purposes to fulfill. That... is something he can never change."
Kagaya smiled softly.
After speaking these words gently, he released his son's hand, and it fell back heavily onto the bed.
The sound of weeping and sobbing filled the room.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the previous leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, had passed away.
Standing outside the door were the Hashira, their faces heavy with grief.
They had all witnessed firsthand everything this man had done for the Corps.
Not long after, Kagaya was laid to rest, and leadership was passed to the young Shuji Ubuyashiki, who was still just a boy.
Kagaya's death did not disrupt the operations or activities of the Corps in the slightest—and this was exactly the strength of the Ubuyashiki family.
If anything, the Hashira seemed to be inspired by their leader's passing. The efficiency and results of their missions grew even more impressive than before.
They took the lives of demons as a way to honor their fallen leader.
To honor all those who had come before them, and all their comrades who had lost their lives.
This was the power of their will!
...
Crash!
On the other side, in the residence of a nobleman.
Muzan Kibutsuji slammed his fist down hard on the table, sending bottles and jars tumbling to the floor.
For a long time now, he had been studying medicine and pharmacology. In his search for the Blue Spider Lily, he had read nearly every book related to the subject—including works on geography and historical records from every region—simply to ensure he missed nothing.
He wanted to find a way to complete the formula that was missing only the Blue Spider Lily.
In terms of knowledge alone, he was without equal.
Yet the anger he felt now had nothing to do with the flower... It came from the fact that his demons were being killed at an alarming rate.
In just one year, nearly ten new faces had appeared among the Lower Ranks of the Twelve Kizuki. They had effectively been wiped out and replaced twice over.
This was something that had never happened before.
In the past, it had not been unusual for Lower Ranks to kill Hashira-level swordsmen.
But this time, the Demon Slayer Corps had attacked with overwhelming force, catching him completely off guard. Not only the Hashira, but even ordinary swordsmen had made enormous leaps in strength.
"Who is responsible?"
Muzan knew that even the Ubuyashiki family could not have transformed the Corps so dramatically. If they had been capable of such things, they would never have been forced into retreat and kept under his thumb for all these years.
"New power..."
Muzan's fingernails grew long and sharp, scratching deep lines into the wall behind him.
He had lived comfortably for a long time, but now, because of the threat from the Demon Slayers, he was forced to travel constantly to find new candidates to turn into demons.
Moreover, because of how well the Corps was being led, he could not simply wipe out the Ubuyashiki family. Revealing himself openly and fighting them head-on would carry too many risks.
He remained extremely cautious, and would never show himself unless he was absolutely certain of victory.
Though he looked down on the swordsmen, as an old and experienced opponent, he refused to underestimate their determination.
After thinking for a moment, the furious, twisted expression on Muzan's face faded, and he turned to look at the Upper Rank Five, Muryo, who was kneeling on the floor trembling with fear.
Muryo shook uncontrollably.
He had never seen Muzan so angry before.
"Have you found any trace of that man yet?" Muzan asked quietly.
Thump! Muryo bowed his head so low that his forehead pressed against the floor, cold sweat dripping from his face. "I... I..."
"He is in the pleasure quarters," Muzan said before Muryo could speak. "He leads the Magistrate's Office in the northern district, and is a descendant of the Tokugawa clan's retainers."
"You have spent nearly a year searching for him and have not learned a single thing about him. Yet I gathered all the information about him long before you even began... I gave you the chance and the power to grow stronger, and this is how you repay me?"
"As an Upper Rank, what purpose do you serve? If I had to do everything myself, what need would I have of you?"
Every word cut into Muryo like a blade, leaving him feeling as if he had been frozen from head to toe.
"My Lord... I... I will go there right now! I will bring him to you, I swear!"
"Bring him to me?"
Muzan lifted the corner of his mouth in a mocking sneer.
"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"
"No! Not at all!"
Muryo was terrified. He quickly raised his head and waved his hands frantically.
But the moment he looked up, Muzan was standing directly in front of him. His red eyes stared down at him from above, cold and unblinking.
In the next instant, Muryo's entire body exploded like a ripe watermelon, splitting into pieces as blood sprayed everywhere. Only his head remained, held up by his hair as Muzan lifted it before his eyes.
"As Upper Rank Five, how many Hashira have you killed? Very few indeed. Especially among the new generation—you have not managed to defeat a single one of them until now. Just one day ago, the newly promoted Upper Rank Six killed one. He has been a demon for far less time than you, yet he has accomplished far more. What reason is there for you to exist?"
"..."
Hearing these words, Muryo was stunned.
How could this be possible?
That man... had actually done something like this?
At such a pace...
"Hmm."
Just then, a foot stepped through the doorway, and a cheerful, lighthearted voice called out, "Were you talking about me?"
Muryo turned his gaze and saw that the newcomer was none other than Upper Rank Six.
The man he had always disliked.
"Senior, what has happened to you? Have you made my Lord angry again?"
A pair of colorful, shimmering eyes drew near, and a head of pure white hair sat beneath a distinctive hat. This was Doma, the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult, who had just become Upper Rank Six.
"Before, I was thinking of bringing Senior some valuable treasures to show my respect and build a good relationship with you. But now... it seems you won't be receiving any gifts after all," Doma said, locking eyes with Muryo. It was impossible to tell from his tone whether he was genuinely offering friendship or simply enjoying the situation.
"My Lord, if that man hadn't appeared, I could have killed both Hashira in Aoba-cho! I... I..."
Muryo tried to explain himself, and by "that man," he meant Oboro.
"Of course, of course..."
Before Muzan could speak, Doma jumped right into the conversation, nodding repeatedly. "I have always thought Senior was incredibly strong—you are such an inspiration to me! I hope to learn a great deal from you." Then he turned to Muzan. "Lord Muzan... wouldn't it be better to spare Muryo? I am sure he will learn from this failure."
Even though he was speaking up for him, Muryo's eyes widened in shock, and veins bulged on his face as he glared furiously at Doma.
The word "failure" was something Muzan could never bear to hear.
"You...!"
Just as Muryo was about to curse him out, his head was crushed by Muzan's hand, and his body dissolved into flesh and blood, killing him instantly.
"Ah... What a shame," Doma said with an expression that suggested deep regret.
As Upper Ranks, they were allowed to address Muzan by name, though they were expected to show him proper respect.
This was one of the privileges granted to the Upper Ranks—privileges that were far greater than those given to the Lower Ranks. Of course, the more power and status one held, the harder they had to work to earn Muzan's attention and favor.
"Did you find out anything useful?"
Muzan wiped the blood from his hand and looked coldly at Doma.
"Exactly as you suspected—it was indeed him. The man wearing the black haori. He is the one who brought the breathing method called Toh-nhap to the Demon Slayer Corps. Also, it seems the Ubuyashiki family has changed leadership.
"That woman was very careful not to say anything important, but the swordsmen who followed her did not have the same strength of will... Oh my, killing her took me such a long time. I never expected the Hashira of today to be so powerful.
"But the taste of her... being one with her like that... it was absolutely wonderful."
The woman he had just eaten was Kanae Kocho, the Flower Hashira.
"I will go," came a calm, steady voice from a dark corner of the room.
"Oh... You are here too," Doma said, glancing over in surprise before smiling warmly.
"You two will go together," Muzan said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave his order.
"Yes," they replied.
"How wonderful! Just after becoming Upper Rank, I get to work alongside you for Lord Muzan... This is such a rare opportunity to get closer to you... I hope you will take good care of me as a new member... I..."
Doma seemed to be trying to show goodwill, but halfway through his speech, his eyelashes fluttered slightly. "Are we leaving already?"
Clearly, the other person had no interest in listening to his long, pointless speech.
Muzan had already vanished from sight.
Doma's mood was not affected in the slightest, and he continued to wear his cheerful smile.
Because... he had no real human emotions at all. Every expression he showed was nothing more than an act.
____________________
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