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The rows of banners, the bright colored lights, and the endless flow of people left Tanjiro slack-jawed on his first visit to a metropolis.
"Cities are supposed to be like THIS?!"
"Obviously, squirt."
Marcus didn't let the opportunity slide. After all, the kid was screaming and gawking at every single step, drawing stares and making an absolutely embarrassing scene.
His adorable Nezuko stood as the only one with perfect manners.
"Wuu~~!" she squealed.
Having come out completely unscathed against the demon and spent the entire trip sleeping peacefully inside her wooden box, Nezuko was bursting with energy and pure curiosity about her surroundings.
But since she was short and couldn't see a lot of things, she made a quick decision and shrunk her body down to her miniature form. She climbed nimbly up Marcus's pant leg like a little monkey until she settled on his shoulders.
With one tiny arm she gripped Marcus's hair firmly, using the other hand to point in fascination at every shiny new thing along the way.
Marcus held her small legs and, under the curious gazes of passersby, continued his stroll.
And Tanjiro, being another mountain boy in desperate need of a tour guide through that asphalt labyrinth, received a look of pure contempt from his senpai.
"Keep screaming and crashing into poles, and I swear I'll abandon you right here. You're a walking disaster!"
Indignant, Tanjiro pointed at his sister, who was babbling away in fascination. "Then how come you don't say anything to HER?!"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "It's obvious. She's an absolutely adorable creature. You're a headache."
"Then I'll go my own way!" Tanjiro shot back, clenching his fists.
"Go ahead!"
Marcus waved his free hand, giving him the green light to leave.
Tanjiro had backed himself into a corner!
Unable to take back his words, he had no choice but to turn around fuming and storm off.
Either way, with his sense of smell, finding the two of them wouldn't be hard.
Besides, he held a grudge. During the village mission, Marcus had hogged the spotlight by luring the target and making the whole mission easier.
Being reasonable, with his nose, the searching and tracking should have been his job.
So Tanjiro wanted to prove his worth on his own here in Asakusa.
And just like that, the group split up once again.
"..."
Marcus watched Tanjiro's stiff figure stumbling away through the crowd and let out a heavy sigh.
Pushing him to take his own path was the smartest strategic play at the moment.
Keeping Nezuko completely off Muzan's radar was an absolute priority, and concealing the uniqueness of her blood demanded preventive measures.
So the best move was to split up temporarily to reduce the chances of ending up exposed in a direct confrontation.
And obviously, he wasn't going to leave Tanjiro alone.
Wrapping his body and the little demon on his shoulders with his Breathing Technique, he followed at a distance.
And Tanjiro, walking with a furrowed brow, kicking small pebbles along the way — guided by the threads of fate or by his own instinct to seek out quiet areas — kept going until he was completely away from the crowd.
His route led him straight to a quaint udon stand, tucked away in the stillness of a secluded alley.
"He thinks he's so superior… When I find the demon tonight myself, I'll show him what I'm really capable of!"
He approached the small wooden cart, muttering with obvious annoyance.
"Sir! Get me a bowl of udon with—"
Out of nowhere, his entire body froze.
As he breathed in the hot steam from the food, his prodigious sense of smell picked up a disturbing essence.
He detected a dark, repulsive scent that was branded into his memory.
IT WAS HIM!!!
Under the bewildered gaze of the stand's owner, Tanjiro stumbled back a couple of steps and took a deep breath of air.
As various scents flooded in… his pupils shrank to two tiny dots and his eyes flew wide open.
His heart began slamming against his ribs with extreme violence, forcing him to gasp desperately as sweat completely drenched his forehead.
He hadn't been wrong… IT WAS HIM!
THE EXACT SAME MACABRE SCENT THAT HAD MASSACRED HIS FAMILY AND BEEN LEFT SOAKED INTO HIS HOME!
From a nearby rooftop, Marcus watched Tanjiro bolt toward the bustling market, stumbling forward, and tensed up.
The crucial moment was about to begin…
Tanjiro was running at a speed that completely surpassed the pace he'd used during the Swamp Demon hunt — and this was in the middle of bustling Asakusa.
Navigating directly through that immense olfactory chaos, Tanjiro's prodigious sense managed to isolate and track that faint deadly trail with absolute precision.
From above, Marcus followed the direction Tanjiro was running, and then he saw him…
A tall man, imposing figure, dressed in a flawless black suit and a white fedora hat that gave him a distinguished air. In his arms he carried a small girl, wrapped in a peach-pink dress over a white shirt.
The little girl laughed with that carefree joy only children have, and he held her with a steadiness that seemed genuine, almost tender. Even from his elevated vantage point, the scene radiated a warm intimacy between father and daughter that would have moved anyone.
But Marcus was the only one who knew the truth.
That was nothing more than a farce orchestrated by Michael Ja—NO!, by Muzan.
That girl's mother was the widow of the president of a powerful corporation, one that controlled an immense fortune, with more than enough resources and influence. And Muzan had infiltrated her life playing the role of the perfect husband, the devoted man who had joined the family as if he'd always belonged to it.
His true purpose was one and one alone: to use the widow's connections and power to locate the Blue Spider Lily.
Marry. Pretend. Play the part of the loving stepfather.
The method was, without a doubt, pathetic — but it fit perfectly with Muzan's cowardly, paranoid nature.
To achieve his goals, he was capable of anything: taking the form of a beautiful woman to seduce, or that of an abandoned child to stir pity.
He had no pride, no lines he wouldn't cross.
All he had was a survival instinct so razor-sharp it was pathological.
He was used to moving through the shadows, getting what he wanted from a position of absolute safety, without dirtying his own hands.
And it had worked. Boy, had it worked. For centuries, that method allowed him to exist as a ghost: without leaving a single portrait behind, without giving a single clue to the Ubuyashiki family, who had hunted him generation after generation without ever being able to put a face to him.
But today…
Today, a young demon slayer reached out and ripped away the facade Muzan had built in one swift pull, grabbing him firmly by the shoulder.
Muzan's inner monologue at that moment must have been something like: 'Now then, what insect dares to touch me?'
But when he turned and saw that red hair, red eyes, the scar on the forehead, and the hanafuda earrings on his ears…
Hanafuda earrings… Those earrings.
In that instant, Muzan lost absolute control of his expression. The mask of the perfect husband cracked.
'It's over!'
When he saw the other one unsheathe his sword, Muzan raised the girl he was carrying in his arms and placed her between them.
Whether it was real or feigned, from what he knew, "that" man would never lay a hand on an innocent girl.
And he was right.
The moment the little girl turned her head toward Tanjiro with wide eyes and babbled a trembling "D-Daddy...?", Tanjiro froze.
And then a monstrous rage, unprecedented, slammed against his brain like a black wave.
This demon… the one who massacred his family while they slept, who turned Nezuko into a monster, who reduced his home to ashes and corpses… had the nerve to live among humans. To get married. To hold a girl in his arms. To be a father.
To have the family he stole from him… HOW IRONIC!
HOW DESPICABLE!
WHAT A SON OF A BITCH!
But… No matter how immense, no matter how scorching, no matter how unstoppable the rage boiling in his veins and clouding his vision was… Tanjiro couldn't unsheathe his sword.
He wasn't going to hurt that girl who knew nothing.
And he wasn't capable of cutting down her "father" right before her eyes either. He couldn't inflict that wound on an innocent child.
That was Tanjiro Kamado. A young man whose kindness was so unbreakable that even in the most critical moment, even standing before the being he hated most in the world, he chose to hold back rather than cause harm to someone who didn't deserve it.
But there was a problem — and it was that the monster standing in front of him didn't share a single shred of those principles.
"..."
From the eave, Marcus clearly sensed Muzan's killing intent.
This made him involuntarily take a few steps forward. But he forced himself to stop.
He needed this to happen.
He needed Tanjiro to stand face to face before the King of Demons, to look him in the eyes and spit out that he was going to kill him!
He needed events to follow their original course as faithfully as possible.
Because he still wasn't strong enough. And in a world where a single mistake could mean death, knowing the future was the only real advantage he had.
He couldn't afford to waste it on an impulse.
But there was more at stake than just the confrontation.
Through Tanjiro's actions, his courage, his rage, that kindness of his that was downright absurd in the face of a monster like Muzan — Marcus needed to earn something invaluable: Tamayo's sympathy and trust.
Because if Tanjiro didn't confront the King of Demons tonight and fiercely declare that he would kill him without fail… If he didn't extend his hand to save that unfortunate Asakusa bystander who was about to be turned into a demon… Then Tamayo wouldn't make a move.
Even if she had seen the ghost of Yoriichi Tsugikuni reflected in Tanjiro's face, even if the resemblance had stolen her breath — she wouldn't have risked showing herself.
Not after centuries of running. Not without irrefutable proof that this young man was different.
And on top of that, there was that… The Asakusa Man's Blood Demon Art!
Marcus clenched his teeth just thinking about it.
That ability was too valuable, too monstrously useful.
For all of that, he wouldn't interfere.
But…
Just because he wouldn't intervene didn't mean he didn't care whether Tanjiro lived or died.
The instant Muzan extended his nails, Marcus's body moved on its own again. He advanced several more steps, and this time his hand found his sword's hilt and gripped it tight.
He measured the distance with a single glance.
Enough.
If something went wrong, using [Floral Traverse] at full power he'd get there in time to save Tanjiro… He had to get there in time.
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The long-awaited encounter between Tanjiro and Muzan is finally here. What did you think of Tanjiro's reaction and Marcus's strategy? Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and don't forget to drop your Power Stones!
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