Mid-1911 (Meiji 44).
Even amid the rapid waves of modernization, the Akatsuki Trading Company headquarters boasted a majesty that was several steps ahead of its time.
Executive office.
Sitting at the luxurious desk, Akira was intently examining a bowl of black paste that Mukago had carefully presented.
The air in the office was filled with the savory, salty scent of freshly stir-fried beans.
"Hmm... The scent is passable."
He scooped a small spoonful of the black sauce, chunjang, and tasted it. The rich flavor of beans, the sweetness of stir-fried vegetables, and the savoriness of pork fat harmonized in his mouth.
"Not bad. If we add a bit more caramel to deepen the color and stir-fry with plenty of onions... it'll become the jajangmyeon I remember."
Akira nodded with satisfaction.
This was a project to recreate Korean-style jajangmyeon from his past-life memories in 1910s Japan.
"The key is to make the noodles by hand to preserve their chewiness. How about recruiting the technicians?"
"Yes, Chairman. As instructed, we've brought skilled Chinese chefs from Incheon and Qingdao. We've arranged housing and salaries at the industry's highest standards."
Mukago reported while taking meticulous notes. She was now a proper secretary assisting Akira.
"Good. And... how about hiring workers for the factory?"
"That's also as instructed. We're prioritizing the hiring of Joseon people struggling with livelihood hardships. We've already brought in hundreds by paying off their debts to unscrupulous loan sharks or those suffering unfair treatment at the company's expense."
Even as she reported, Mukago still wore a puzzled expression.
"Master, it might be an impertinent question... but you seem especially generous to those people. There are many workers in Japan, yet you go so far as to invest large sums..."
"I told you... it's just my petty stubbornness."
Akira smiled bitterly while gazing out the window.
Although he now reigned as a tycoon at the center of Japan's economy and a king of the underworld, deep in his soul, the memories of his past life and identity as a Korean faintly remained.
He always prioritized his own happiness, so he had no intention of leading an independence movement for those suffering under colonial rule. However, within his own domain, he wanted to let them eat their fill and live like humans—a kind of noblesse oblige and fellow feeling.
Of course, that was if he could completely sever his ties with Muzan. Who knew what the future held.
"But certainly, they all work with tears in their eyes, calling you their lifesaver. Production efficiency is far higher than other factories."
"Lifesaver, my foot. It's just giving fair compensation for their work. Make sure to care for their welfare so they don't betray us. I take care of my people."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Knock knock~
The silence was broken as the office door opened. This time, it was Ushigozen who entered.
She wore a form-fitting Western-style suit and carried a sword at her side, ready to cut down enemies at any moment. Along with Tsubaki, she was in charge of the company's formal security.
"Master, here's an intelligence report from the information department."
"What is it? More government officials whining for bribes?"
"No, it's about the Demon Slayer Corps' movements."
Ushigozen placed a single document on the desk.
"Recently, a new member joined the Demon Slayer Corps. His name is Tokito Muichiro. They say he's a genius who became a Hashira just two months after picking up a sword."
"Ah, Muichiro."
Akira glanced at the document and then looked away. His reaction was lukewarm, almost cold.
"That's the child we tried to recruit in the past. I heard his family was wiped out by demons... How unfortunate. If we'd reached out a bit earlier, we could have made him an excellent asset."
Regret tinged Mukago's words. But Akira spun his pen and replied indifferently.
"A pity, indeed. But... we don't need him anymore."
"Huh?"
"Back when I was incomplete, I needed combat strength to prepare for a fight with Muzan. But now? I've already overcome the sun and become a perfected being. Combatants? There's no need to augment them anymore. Do you think one human genius joining will make a dent in our forces?"
It wasn't arrogance but a cold fact. To Akira, Muichiro's talent no longer held even collectible value.
At best, he was a combat genius, not a talent who'd greatly benefit the company. Akira had lost interest in the Demon Slayer Corps or humans on that side.
The Kocho sisters were a genuine coincidence, and in Mitsuri's case, her family was wealthy and aristocratic, with the Kanroji main house deeply entangled in politics, making her very valuable as a backer.
Other Demon Slayers? Their families were nothing special, and their combat prowess didn't meet his standards to attract interest.
"Then... what about a boy named Tanjiro Kamado? I heard he helped find the Blue Spider Lily before I was summoned. He lost his family late last year and disappeared, but he probably went to a Demon Slayer cultivator."
"He's the same."
Akira's voice held not a trace of emotion.
"A talent for smelling well? Sun Breathing? Nezuko overcoming the sun? All useless to us. It's regrettable that their families were wiped out, but I have no obligation to save every misfortune in the world. I'm not a philanthropist. Especially the Kamado family—they're too pure, utterly mismatched with commerce. They're not the type to fit in with us."
He swiveled his chair to look down at the Tokyo scenery outside the window.
"Whether they sharpen their swords in the Demon Slayer Corps or go around hunting demons, it's none of my business. As long as they don't interfere with my business and my family's happiness. They're just... passing strangers."
Ushigozen quietly nodded. Her master was affectionate, but that affection was strictly limited to his own people.
To those outside that line, Akira was like an observing god.
As the afternoon drowsiness began to fade, the heavy oak door of the office creaked open.
A man of massive build entered, breathing heavily. It was Kumoeimon.
He was disguised in human form, but his intimidating physique and rugged features were impossible to hide. Currently, he was in charge of the Akatsuki Trading Company's logistics center.
Now that he was eating well, his intelligence had somewhat recovered.
"Master, I have something to report. Some very unpleasant news."
"What is it, Kumoeimon? Your face is all red and flushed."
"Well... there's been a theft at the third logistics warehouse. Inventory is missing. Thieves broke in."
"Thieves? At our company?"
Akira's eyebrow twitched.
The Akatsuki Trading Company's warehouses didn't have modern security systems, but instead, a biological security system was in place, with small spiders under Kumonojo's control monitoring them 24/7.
Tamamo's spells were fine, but that would require designing them to distinguish company personnel, which was troublesome, so they left it to Kumonojo's spiders and put Kumoeimon in overall charge.
"Who were they? Didn't they get caught in the spider webs?"
"They were quite nimble. They moved only through blind spots, avoiding the surveillance spiders. But... one of the guards saw their backs."
"What did he see?"
"They wore black gakuran-style clothes, carried swords at their waists, and had the character for '滅' (destroy) on their backs."
Instantly, the air in the office froze cold.
The fountain pen Akira was holding snapped in two with a crisp sound.
"...The Demon Slayer Corps."
"Yes, that's right. They've finally crossed the line. We knew they suspected our company of being a demon's den, but to go as far as petty theft to find evidence? For all their talk of being warriors of justice, their actions are worse than common thugs."
Kumoeimon couldn't contain his anger, forcefully clenching his fists and creating a gust of wind. It seemed his pride was hurt that his managed area had been breached.
"What did they steal?"
"Mainly special medicines imported from the West and samples of alloys we're developing. Probably aiming to analyze our technology or find evidence related to demons."
Akira leaned deep into his chair back and stared coldly at the ceiling.
"Ha... these little rats. After feeding them, they bite the hand that feeds them."
He had left the Demon Slayer Corps alone until now, partly because they were a nuisance, but also because they were humans opposing Muzan.
Plus, it was a workplace for Kanao to gain social experience, though a tough one.
But now, they had openly committed crimes by laying hands on the company's property.
"Master, what should we do? Should we wipe out their bases, the Wisteria houses, right away? Or shall I bring you their heads?"
Ushigozen's eyes flashed as she made a bloodthirsty suggestion.
"No, armed conflict is a hassle. And too petty. They might be provoking us hoping for that."
Akira twisted his lips into a smile.
It wasn't the benevolent chairman's smile, but the cruel smile of a demon king.
"If you pick a fight with a merchant, you pay back in a merchant's way."
He picked up the telephone on the desk. In 1911, telephones weren't widespread yet, but the Akatsuki Trading Company had the latest exchange installed.
"Connect me to the secretariat. Gather all the national wholesale association heads, pharmaceutical company representatives, transportation union chairmen, and grain association heads immediately."
His voice was low, but the power within was razor-sharp.
"All supply lines going to the Demon Slayer Corps are to be completely cut off as of today."
"Completely... cut off?"
"Yes. Not a single grain of rice, strip of bandage, or even a nail is to reach them. If any company disobeys, inform them that all transactions with our Akatsuki Trading Company will be severed immediately, and they should forget about doing business in Japan."
The Akatsuki Trading Company already controlled the lifeblood of Japan's economy. If they wished, starving a single group to death was child's play.
"If medicine supplies are cut, they won't be able to treat injured members. Without bandages or disinfectants, their wounds will rot. I'm sorry to Kanao, but if I convey this incident, she'll likely ignore the wounded due to collective responsibility."
Akira threw the broken fountain pen into the trash can.
"If we tighten the food distribution network, those proud swordsmen will have to swing their swords on empty stomachs. Block the ore supply for making Nichirin Blades too. I know the mountain locations, so destroy them all. If their swords break, let them fight with clubs."
Ushigozen and Kumoeimon felt chills. This was a more brutal revenge than blade-clashing.
"They're desperate to find evidence, so let them feel how harsh the price is. How dare they lay hands on my property."
That afternoon, an urgent communiqué from the Akatsuki Trading Company was secretly distributed throughout Japan's commercial network.
It was a silent declaration of war and an economic death sentence against the Demon Slayer Corps.
They had already identified the Demon Slayer Corps' supply routes through Kanao and the company's intelligence network.
There was no need to burn down the house to catch rats. Just cut off their food, block their water, and tighten their breathing holes—that was enough.
The Akatsuki Trading Company's massive capital began to slowly strangle the Demon Slayer Corps.