## Kusagakure, Twelve Kizuki Base
Kenji stared down at the unconscious forms of the Golden and Silver brothers. Their bodies lay sprawled across the cold stone floor, chests rising and falling in shallow breaths. For the first time, he would use his demon creation ability.
He delivered sharp slaps to both their faces. The brothers stirred, groaning as consciousness returned. When their eyes focused on Kenji looming above them, terror flooded their features. They scrambled backward on their hands and knees.
"I'm offering you a chance," Kenji said, his voice steady and cold. "A chance to serve me. I could have killed you—should have killed you. But I didn't. So I'll ask one more time: do you choose death, or do you choose to live?"
The brothers exchanged panicked glances before nodding frantically. "We'll serve you!" Ginkaku stammered. "Whatever you want, my lord!"
A low chuckle escaped Kenji's throat. "Good. But understand this—I'm not human. I'm a demon. The demon king, to be precise. If you truly wish to serve me, you must become demons as well."
The concept was foreign to them, but desperation left no room for questions. They nodded again, trembling.
"Hold still." Kenji's voice dropped to a whisper, devoid of all warmth.
Dark tendrils emerged from his fingertips like living shadows. The brothers froze as one tendril touched Kinkaku's forehead, then split to reach Ginkaku. The essence seeped into their skin like ice water through cloth.
The transformation began slowly, then erupted into something horrifying.
Kinkaku felt it first—a burning sensation that started in his chest and spread like molten metal through his veins. He gasped, doubling over as every nerve in his body ignited. His skin began to bubble and shift, muscles tearing and reforming beneath the surface. The sound of his bones cracking and elongating filled the chamber like breaking wood.
"What's... happening... to us?" he choked out, but his voice was already changing, becoming deeper, more guttural.
His fingernails didn't just grow—they erupted from his fingertips in bloody spurts, extending into curved talons that scraped against the stone floor. His jaw unhinged with a wet pop as his mouth stretched impossibly wide. Razor-sharp fangs tore through his gums, blood streaming down his chin as they pushed through tender flesh.
But it was his eyes that changed most dramatically. The brown irises didn't just shift to red—they exploded in color, pupils dilating until only thin rings of crimson remained. Blood vessels burst across the whites of his eyes, creating a web of scarlet that pulsed with each heartbeat.
Ginkaku's transformation was even more violent. He collapsed to his hands and knees, vomiting blood as his internal organs rearranged themselves. His spine curved and twisted, vertebrae cracking audibly as his back arched at impossible angles. Ice-cold breath poured from his mouth in visible clouds as his body temperature plummeted far below human limits.
"Brother!" he screamed, but the word came out as an inhuman shriek that echoed off the walls.
His skin turned pale as death, then began to crack like dried earth. Dark veins spread beneath the surface like poisonous rivers, visible through his translucent flesh. His hair fell out in clumps, only to be replaced by something coarser, darker.
As their bodies transformed, fragments of their human memories began to dissolve, replaced by an overwhelming hunger for human flesh, but a warm energy flowed out of their body and started to soothe the overwhelming hunger. The brothers clawed at their heads, trying to hold onto their fading humanity as alien thoughts invaded their consciousness.
For nearly ten agonizing minutes, they writhed on the floor in pools of their own blood and bile. Their screams gradually became less human and more bestial. When the convulsions finally stopped, what remained barely resembled the men who had entered this room.
Kenji watched it all with clinical detachment, occasionally tilting his head as if studying an interesting experiment. Only when their glowing red eyes fixed on him with absolute devotion did he finally speak.
"Good. The transformation is complete."
A knock echoed through the chamber.
"Lord Muzan," came Enmu's voice as he knelt outside. "The Upper and Lower Moons have assembled in the main hall as you had ordered."
"Good. I have an announcement to make."
---
## Main Hall
Inside his ornate pot, Gyokko peered at Daki with bulging eyes. "Why do you suppose Lord Muzan has summoned us today?"
Daki's painted lips curled in annoyance. "How should Daki know such things? And why must you speak to me? You're so hideous it makes Daki feel sick just looking at you."
Gyokko's form trembled with rage. "You dare insult my beautiful vessels?! These exquisite art forms that took centuries to perfect!" His voice rose to a shrill pitch punctuated by manic giggles. "Hyokyokyokyo! You wouldn't know true artistry if it crawled out of the gutter you belong in!"
"Gutter?!" Daki's voice climbed to an even higher pitch. "Daki is the most beautiful demon in all the world! Men worship Daki! They die for Daki! You're just a disgusting fish-thing that hides in pots because you're too ugly to show your real face!"
"Fish-thing?! FISH-THING?!" Gyokko's pot began to shake violently. "I am the greatest artist to have ever existed! My blood demon art creates masterpieces that—"
"Your art is trash!" Daki shrieked. "Ugly, disgusting trash made by an ugly, disgusting demon! Daki has seen sewers more beautiful than your stupid pots!"
The insult hit its mark. Gyokko's giggles turned into a high-pitched shriek of rage. "You ignorant little whore! I'll turn you into one of my artworks! I'll stuff your corpse into the most beautiful vase and—"
"What did you just call Daki?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Dark marks began spreading across Daki's face like ink in water.
"Oh no, oh no!" Hantengu cowered in the corner, tears streaming down his weathered face. "Gyutaro is coming out! Lord Muzan will be so angry! We'll all be punished!"
But it was too late. Daki's body began to shift and change as her brother's presence emerged. Finally Gyutaro emerged.
"Gyahahaha..." A raspy, slurring laugh filled the hall. "Did this ugly piece of shit just call my sister a whore?"
Gyutaro had fully emerged, his sickly green skin and hunched posture a stark contrast to Daki's beauty. His yellow eyes burned with malice as he fixed his gaze on Gyokko's pot.
"You know what I hate most?" Gyutaro's voice dripped with venom. "Uppity bastards who think they're better than us. Who think they deserve more than what we got." He scratched at his neck with long, dirty fingernails. "Makes me sick. Makes me wanna cut 'em up real good."
Gyokko, suddenly realizing he might have gone too far, tried to backpedal. "Now, now, Upper Moon Six, I was merely—"
"Shut up." Gyutaro's killing intent filled the room like a toxic fog. "You called my sister names. Nobody gets to do that. Gyahahaha... Maybe I should show you what real art looks like. The kind that screams."
The other demons pressed themselves against the walls, sensing the very real possibility of violence erupting in Lord Muzan's hall.
Rui observed the scene with cool detachment, while Kyogai's jaw clenched in irritation. "Fools," he muttered. "Show some respect in Lord Muzan's domain."
Mukago pressed herself against the wall, trembling. What if Lord Muzan was displeased by this chaos? What if he blamed her for not stopping it?
Wakuraba shared her fear, his eyes darting toward the exits as tension filled the room.
"What's happening here?"
Every demon instantly dropped to their knees as Kenji entered, flanked by Enmu and the newly transformed brothers. The hall fell silent except for the whisper of fabric against stone.
Kenji's gaze swept over his assembled forces. Despite being system-summoned demons, each possessed distinct personalities that had grown on him over time. Unlike the original Muzan's obsession with blue spider lilies, Kenji had different priorities. His chakra reserves could sustain a full day of combat while maintaining his chakra cloak—not permanent, but sufficient for now.
"These are the Golden and Silver brothers," he announced, gesturing to the pair beside him. "They've chosen to serve me and will join our ranks."
Murmurs of acknowledgment rippled through the group.
"I have another announcement." Kenji's voice carried easily through the hall. "I'm leaving this base. I've remained here too long and require... a change of scenery. You're all free to establish yourselves in the wider world."
The decision had been forming for weeks. During wartime, their organization had clear purpose. Now, with peace established, maintaining this isolated base served little function. If he needed them, he could always summon them back.
Confusion flickered across several faces.
"The war is over," Kenji explained. "My constant presence here is no longer necessary. Consider this your freedom—maintain this base if you wish, or venture out and pursue your own interests. There are no restrictions. When I require your services again, I'll call upon you."
Understanding dawned in their eyes. One by one, they bowed deeper.
"Yes, Lord Muzan."
Satisfaction curved Kenji's lips as he turned and left the hall.
As Muzan left, the previous tension seems to have faded.
---
## Two Weeks Later
Kenji stood at the border of the Land of Demons, wind stirring his dark hair. This nation was renowned for its spiritual practices and centuries-long battle against the demon Mōryō. Protected by a lineage of powerful priestesses capable of sealing demonic entities, it differed greatly from the Five Great Shinobi Countries.
While possessing its own government and shrine guard military, the Land of Demons derived power from spiritual heritage rather than martial might. An intriguing place for a demon king to visit.
Kenji stepped forward, crossing into new territory.