"As long as you die… all demons will die with you. Right?"
The night wind stirred.
It lifted the bangs of the first demon.
…
A thousand years had passed since the distant Heian era. Kibutsuji Muzan had turned humans into immortal demons with his blood, igniting a war between mankind and demons that never truly ended.
Tonight was the first meeting between the leaders of both sides.
Inside an old-fashioned Japanese bungalow—
Muzan, dressed in a crisp suit and meticulously groomed, finally stood before the head of the Demon Slayer Corps: Ubuyashiki Kagaya.
As a demon, Muzan looked handsome and tall.
As a human, Kagaya sat wrapped in bandages, grotesque scars visible between the layers. His eyes were dull, without light.
Beneath perfect, beautiful flesh—rotted a heart.
Beneath decaying flesh—endured a heart of steel.
…
This wasn't a clash of equals.
The gap between them was as obvious as a tyrannosaur facing a chick.
…
The man on the futon spoke softly, his voice steady and warm—calm enough to soothe anyone just by hearing it.
"The wind's picked up. I was right, wasn't I?"
"Shut up."
Muzan's voice was the opposite—cold and merciless, devoid of any living warmth.
"Allow me one last sentence."
"Even though I just said my existence isn't all that important… my death won't be meaningless."
"I was fortunate enough to earn those children's admiration. And that means… if I die…"
"The Demon Slayer Corps' morale will surge higher than ever before."
…
"Are you finished?"
Muzan raised a hand. A strange, dark-red power churned beneath his skin, and his five fingers slid out like unsheathed blades—razor-sharp.
"…Yes. I'm finished."
"I didn't expect you to listen for so long. Thank you, Muzan."
Satisfied, Kagaya leaned against his wife. Outside, his daughters stopped bouncing their balls and looked silently toward the room.
A heartbeat before Muzan struck—
Kagaya pulled the fuse.
Flames raced beneath the floorboards, and the explosion was about to bloom.
…
It was a trap.
He had deliberately exposed the Demon Slayer headquarters to lure Muzan here.
And to keep Muzan from suspecting anything, he left his wife and daughters with him—choosing to die together.
All for one thing:
To raise the odds of killing Muzan, even slightly.
Was a sacrifice beyond human common sense worth it?
It was.
Demons survived by eating people. Muzan's existence had brought humanity catastrophe—countless tragedies across a thousand years.
Muzan's origin was bound to the Ubuyashiki line.
Cause and effect became a curse: members of the family were sickly from birth, rarely living past thirty.
A thousand years.
Kagaya was the ninety-sixth head.
…
Kagaya was a kind and righteous man. Curse or no curse, he would have paid any price to kill the monster who had created so much suffering.
Any price.
But now, at the end—
feeling his wife's warmth…
hearing his daughters' breathing outside…
I'm sorry…
The Ubuyashiki's thousand-year vow… will cost you your lives…
God…
If you truly exist, please protect them…
Please… let us be together again…
—
—
BOOM!!
The explosion tore apart the quiet night, a blinding fireball roaring like a beast that devoured everything.
And from that inferno—
a boy stepped out, murmuring to himself.
"I don't get it… isn't this supposed to be a posted-request type of mission?"
"Who am I supposed to save…?"
"…Whatever. I'll just save everyone."
He clapped his hands together. Violent wind erupted from between his palms, blasting back the advancing flames and carving out a vacuum within the sea of fire!
Wind Release: Gale Palm!
…
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!!
The explosion's roar hammered Kagaya's ears. Blind already, he couldn't see what was happening.
What is this?
Whose voice was that just now?
…
After the blast—
footsteps crossed the broken boards, approaching Kagaya.
"With you looking like this, I was honestly worried you'd die before I finished the loan."
"Who did you want me to save again? First job. Didn't catch it."
In this new world, Uchiha Sora hadn't deactivated his Sharingan for a second.
He didn't understand how the "transfer" worked. It felt a bit like being reverse-summoned… but also not.
…
The Sharingan could observe chakra flow. With enough perception, it could copy taijutsu and any ninjutsu that wasn't a kekkei genkai.
Chakra was a special energy born from spiritual energy and physical energy combined.
If he could see chakra, then lower-tier energies would be even easier to grasp.
Sora didn't know any of the people present. He could only confirm one thing—
Kagaya was the borrower.
Among everyone here, only the pale man in the suit had notable physical energy. The others were barely different from normal civilians.
And the borrower in front of him looked like he was already halfway into the grave.
…
"…Are you… a god?"
Kagaya answered after a brief daze.
Only a god could have heard his final prayers.
Sora quickly realized something.
This man didn't have a "platform" in his head like Sora did.
So I'm the special one…
Yeah.
Obviously.
"A god? Not really. I'm just here to lend power."
Sora met Muzan's ghost-white gaze.
"One question at a time is annoying. Sorry—there's something I want to confirm."
Kagaya's body jolted.
Something slammed into his mind, rifling through his memories.
He couldn't resist.
…
To hypnotize a shinobi of similar level, eye contact was usually necessary.
But a frail, dying civilian?
Sora could simply pour his ocular power straight in.
In seconds, he filtered out the key information.
…
He turned and looked Kibutsuji Muzan up and down—like he'd discovered a rare specimen.
"You… actually lived a thousand years?"
Energy output at best around Special Jōnin… and yet he'd survived that long.
How?
…
Only then did Muzan snap out of his confusion.
He sneered.
"I overestimated you, Ubuyashiki Kagaya."
"I thought you truly had the resolve to kill your wife and daughters just to oppose me… but at the last moment you couldn't stop yourself, could you?"
"So this is the Pillar you raised in secret. That little trick earlier was interesting."
"But calling this brat a god…"
"How ridiculous."
Kagaya's blood ran cold.
Not just me—Muzan is fine too?!
Forcing his ruined body to move, he screamed:
"Run! He's the progenitor of demons!!"
…
Uchiha Sora turned.
He was only eight years old. Even in the shinobi world, that meant he was barely around one and a half meters tall.
He walked right up to Muzan, stopping less than half a meter away, and looked up.
"What's so funny? What's 'interesting' about it?"
Muzan's pupils shrank.
That phrasing—
It was familiar.
A violent déjà vu stabbed into his mind, and the old wound left by that man throbbed with sudden pain.
Sora's lips curved.
His voice overflowed with absolute arrogance.
"To a low-grade demon like you…"
"There's no difference between me…"
"…and a god."
BAM!!
His fist shattered the air and slammed into Muzan's jaw.
A burst of fine bone-cracks mixed with Muzan's muffled grunt.
Before Muzan could even react—
the fist that had smashed his jaw turned into an open palm. Flames flowed around Sora's hand like liquid, and he swung—
SMACK—!
The backhand struck Muzan's face with brutal force.
Muzan flew like a rag doll. His head spun seventeen or eighteen times—then tore free mid-flight.
THUD—
His body crashed into the burning wreckage of the house, twitching twice… and went still.
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