After instructing the followers to watch out for monsters that devour humans at night, Douma's life remained unchanged.
Except that during this time, he would have most of the believers stay at the foot of the mountain at night, leaving only a few of his "most trusted" high-ranking members of the church in the Monastery.
Well, anyway, they are just a bunch of guys whose hearts are completely occupied by greed, so it's not a big loss if they die.
Late one night, Douma returned, humming an unknown nursery rhyme and walking in the moonlight.
The attempt to run into Kibutsuji Muzan-sensei had failed once again.
What a pity~
But the Monastery that night seemed even darker than usual, and shrill wails echoed around, lingering for a long time.
Douma unfolded his golden fan to cover his lips, curiously approached the room where the screams came from, and quietly poked his head into the open door.
Thump—
A blood-soaked body was thrown on the ground, its familiar face wearing an expression of extreme horror, its lifeless eyes staring straight at Douma's location.
Everywhere in the room were corpses with terrible deaths.
Bloodstains snaked towards Douma's feet, and the strong smell of blood in the air was nauseating.
A young man in a dark kimono stood calmly among the corpses, turning his head to look at Douma.
Pale complexion, handsome appearance, and plum-red vertical pupils like the red moon in the sky.
The progenitor of demons, Kibutsuji Muzan.
"Oh dear, this will be difficult to clean up." Douma blinked and pouted.
Then, he waved at him with a smile: "Hi, good evening~"
Kibutsuji Muzan walked over unhurriedly, his cold and ruthless plum-red pupils examining him with interest.
It was interesting to see a human who was not afraid of him at all.
"Are you the leader of this religion?" Muzan's voice was deep and attractively magnetic, but it gave people a sense of danger.
"Yes, yes, do you know me?" Douma nodded with a smile, his seven-colored eyes becoming brighter.
"Mr. You are a demon, right?"
Muzan looked at him with condescending eyes, as if looking down at an insect rolling in the mud: "Are you guys inquiring about demons?"
"That's right! I was the one who asked everyone to inquire."
Douma "Swish" unfolded his folding fan, with a carefree smile on his face.
"Your purpose?" Muzan walked over slowly.
"Hey, Mr. Demon, can you turn me into a demon?" Douma closed his folding fan and asked with anticipation.
"Oh? Tell me, why?" Muzan glanced at him.
"Because I feel it's necessary to become a demon." Douma thought for a while and said innocently and straightforwardly, "I always feel that it will bring some interesting changes."
"Something different from the past, novel, unknown... It's exciting to think about it~"
He held his cheeks in his hands, revealing an expectant expression.
Although he could instantly come up with many sets of rhetoric that would make it easier to achieve his goal, he generally had no interest in making up lies, except for the rhetoric he used to perfunctorily deal with believers when he was the leader.
In short, he still had an indifferent attitude in his heart. There was no fear, no rejection, no urgent desire, and not much expectation.
Muzan's expression turned cold, and it was impossible to see how he made his move. Douma's body instantly flew out, crashing heavily through several walls.
"Cough cough..."
Douma struggled to get up from the ground, coughing up a large pool of blood.
The bones in his chest seemed to be broken, and the broken bones pierced his internal organs. He felt that he was seriously injured, so he sat down on the spot.
"Oh dear, was I rejected?"
Douma showed a disappointed expression without any real emotion, and looked up at the figure walking slowly.
"Mr. Demon, are you going to eat me?"
He tilted his head and thought seriously, it seemed that it didn't matter.
So he showed a happy smile: "It's not impossible either~"
"I think I must be more delicious than those people over there, and my eyes can be kept as souvenirs."
Douma raised his head, his beautiful eyes as bright as colored diamonds.
Muzan lowered his eyes and looked at him, seeing through his empty interior through his pair of colorful eyes without any fluctuations.
"A human without emotions?" Muzan chuckled and stretched out his hand towards Douma, "A sample I've never seen before."
There's still a little emotion!
Douma was about to seriously and solemnly refute when he felt a sharp pain in the top of his head.
Muzan's right hand inserted his five fingers fiercely into his skull, piercing his brain and injecting hot blood.
A terrible burning sensation spread from his head to his whole body, and every inch of flesh seemed to be torn apart, and every bone seemed to be broken and reorganized.
Douma fell weakly to the ground, his body convulsing instinctively from the pain.
The severe pain made him a little dazed, but his consciousness was unexpectedly clear and calm.
"I hope you can bring me some surprises."
Muzan said, disappearing from Douma's blurred vision without looking back.
I don't know how long it had passed, but the ubiquitous pain suddenly disappeared, and his body became exceptionally light and powerful.
Douma slowly got up from the ground, and there was an ink-splattered blood spot pattern on his white oak-colored hair, and sharp fangs grew in his mouth.
Muzan had already left, but the instinct of the blood conveyed this information to him—
That Muzan Kibutsuji is the object you must absolutely obey from now on.
The large amount of energy consumed in the transformation into a demon brought a burning sense of hunger.
Douma twitched his nose, the bloody smell in the air became sweet, and a large amount of saliva began to secrete in his mouth.
But strangely, his rationality was not lost in the instinct of feeding.
"Oh, it smells so good~" Douma shook his head, "But now is not the time to eat."
He directly sat down cross-legged on the spot, closed his eyes and felt the blood full of power and vitality in his body.
Without being taught, he very smoothly activated his own Blood Demon Art.
With a slight movement of his finger, a cold white ice mist permeated the air, and a delicate and beautiful ice crystal lotus floated charmingly in his palm.
"Oh, shoot."
Douma sat there blankly, holding the ice lotus, his expression calm, but his whole person... no, the whole demon seemed to turn gray.
"Why~ Could it be that I no longer have any attachments?"
He showed a wronged expression.
"That's not right, I clearly feel that I am disappointed."
Although this emotion is also fading away quickly.
Like usual, I can't retain it... Huh? That's not right, I retained it?
A faint sense of loss lingered in his heart, still weak, but it did not disappear in an instant as usual.
Douma blinked his eyes, and everything in front of him disappeared like a bubble in an instant, and his thoughts sank into a vast and empty void world.
There was not a trace of waves in his heart, and there was nothing around him, only subtle thoughts were floating, and there was a feeling of being able to grasp it easily.
It was clear that there was not a single thought, but in this state, all emotions, thoughts, memories, and even desires were clearly distinguishable—
It seemed like something that could be painted on at will.
Emotions are very light colors, perhaps a normal person's emotions can be drawn into a wonderful painting, but the emotions left here... can probably draw a stroke?
A thought arose in the emptiness, and all emotions gathered together and pointed to the place called "Joy".
"Oh, so happy~"
Douma showed a childlike, pure and bright smile, and found that everything in front of him had returned to its original state.
"Eh?" He showed a surprised expression, curiously looking around for a while.
"Although I don't know why I'm happy, I'm just so happy~"
"Is this also my Blood Demon Art?"
"Why are there two? Well, as expected of me, I am indeed the favored one~"
"How wonderful~"
Douma sat there giggling for a while, but soon felt bored.
"There is no reason to be happy at all, it's a bit empty and fake."
He lowered his head listlessly and muttered in a low voice.
He followed his instinct to interrupt the influence of the Blood Demon Art, and the joy in his heart disappeared in an instant, leaving only the long-accustomed peace.
"However, this ability can indeed prevent my emotions from continuing to dissipate."
"Well, I will do happy things myself in the future~"
Douma smiled and felt the unique ability of this Blood Demon Art.
He had a feeling that this control over thoughts could be completely used on other people.
However, when one's own emotions and memories and those of others can be arbitrarily Snoopand distorted, what is the boundary between reality and falsehood?
Where is the meaning of his hard pursuit of emotions?
"Clearly a little emotion has been retained, but it feels that this itself has completely lost its meaning..."
Douma Murmursaid, his expression was childlike curiosity and ignorance.
"This is a demon..."
He shed tears of pity as usual, "It is also a twisted and pathetic creature."
"It's really... such a boring Blood Demon Art."
Douma thought expressionlessly, classifying this ability into the "boring" category.
He sat silently like a sculpture, his eyes hidden in the shadows of his hair.
After being silent for a while, Douma suddenly raised his head, a bright smile appeared on his face, and he tapped the palm of his left hand with the folding fan in his right hand.
"I've got it! Let's call it 'Non-Thinking Heaven'."
"I thought for a long time before I came up with this interesting name~"
He hummed a song lightly, swaying his body from side to side.
But soon, the terrifying hunger struck again.
Every cell was protesting to him, sending him hunger signals, making his head a little dizzy.
Douma turned his gaze to the surrounding wreckage, which used to be his partners who shared weal and woe, but now... they all died so fragrantly~
"It's really sad."
Douma approached a skeleton and looked at the other party's familiar face with tears in his eyes.
It was his dear uncle who watched him grow up, and he bought so many tender little girls with the money offered by believers over the years.
Douma stretched out his hand, dipped his sharp purple fingernails in blood, and licked it lightly with the tip of his tongue curiously.
"It smells so good~"
The seven-colored beautiful eyes became inexplicably strange and dangerous.
Just when Douma was about to completely indulge himself in his appetite, the traces of emotion left in the Non-Thinking Heaven also began to fade.
"Eh?"
Douma vigilantly woke up and used the Non-Thinking Heaven to draw away the appetite that almost completely swallowed him expressionlessly.
"Once you indulge in the instincts of a demon, will you lose your humanity and emotions?"
He can abandon humanity, but he can't lose his emotions!
The feeling of hunger did not disappear. Douma swallowed, looked back reluctantly, and returned to the Main Hall of the Monastery.
Slowly walking towards his favorite soft cushion, Douma sat down cross-legged without expression.
Tilting his head—
Falling into self-isolation.