"After centuries… another Swordsman skilled in the Bright Red Nichirin Sword has appeared." Muzan's expression darkened. "Find him. And kill him."
"Oh my, what should I do~? I'm terrible at searching~" Doma chuckled lightly. "Ah! My eyes are lovely, aren't they? Perhaps I should pluck them out as an apology to Muzan-sama?"
"Who would ever want your eyeballs?" Muzan's brow creased further. "He is a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. Since he can wield a Bright Red Nichirin Sword, he will likely become a Hashira soon. When that happens, kill him and bring him to me."
"Since he is such a gifted swordsman, should we attempt to turn him into a demon?" Akaza bowed, respectful but firm. "Muzan-sama would gain a formidable warrior."
"Do not act on your own." Muzan's expression eased only slightly. Crimson tendrils tipped with bone blades unfurled behind him and lashed forward. "Find him. Kill him."
Kokushibo alone was pierced through the shoulder — everyone else through the forehead.
As Muzan's blood surged, Kokushibo saw the man he spoke of.
Jet-black hair. A Demon Slayer Corps uniform beneath a gray-blue haori. A deceptively gentle face. Surrounded by demons, yet utterly calm. Only when his blade shattered did anger spark — the silver-gray steel flushing crimson.
The red blade fragments burst outward with a fierce aura, disintegrating over a dozen demons instantly. The final image was the young man gazing down at his ruined weapon, grief twisting his expression.
The Bright Red Nichirin Sword's power was impressive, but to Kokushibo — a master swordsman — the boy's technique was abysmal. Hardly worth reaction.
But…
As he reviewed the memories, the youth's face blurred into an image from long ago.
"Hiru…"
"Oh my~ Kokushibo-sama seems to recognize him?" Doma fanned himself cheerfully. "Do tell us~"
"This man… bears… the aspect… of an old acquaintance." Kokushibo stood tall and unmoving. "Perhaps… he could become… an asset."
Muzan's gaze sharpened. After being grievously wounded by Tsugikuni Yoriichi centuries ago, he lost control over the demons created before that event — Kokushibo being the strongest among them.
Yet even when Muzan had been at his weakest, Kokushibo remained unwaveringly loyal. Muzan could still read his thoughts then, and thus treated him as a collaborator rather than a subordinate.
But just moments ago, Kokushibo had closed his mind to him — something unprecedented.
"Why do you say that?" Muzan asked quietly. "What is unusual about this swordsman?"
"Well he must be special~ Kokushibo-sama actually cares~ And oh~ a red blade! My first time seeing one~"
"The red blade is striking… but his swordsmanship is crude… unworthy of fear." Kokushibo's tone remained slow, measured. "This is simply… a personal matter."
Muzan felt Kokushibo's mind again. Sensing no deceit, he waved a hand.
"Very well. If you find him first, you may turn him into a demon and bring him to me. The others will kill him on sight. Do as you please with the corpse."
"Understood," the seven demons replied in unison.
Muzan swept his gaze over the Upper Moons. "Anyone else?"
"Muzan-sama, I've actually discovered a most promising talent~" Gyokko simpered. "A girl with exquisite artistic sense—her embroidery is truly—"
"You may handle that yourself." Muzan's impatience rippled. "Next."
"That, that!" Daki clasped her hands, eyes shimmering with fervor. "Muzan-sama, since the last meeting, I devoured four more Hashira!"
Muzan's expression softened faintly. "Well done."
"Yes!" Daki nearly bounced with excitement, cheeks flushing. "My brother and I will work even harder!"
[Children with no sense are troublesome.]
Still smiling, Muzan's patience thinned. "That is all. Discuss any other matters here. Nakime, return me."
"Yes, Muzan-sama."
As Muzan vanished, Gyokko turned to Doma. "By the way, the vase I gifted you last time—"
"Oh, that one~ It was gorgeous~ I adored it~" Doma smiled brightly at Gyokko's twisted features. "I placed it in my room. It holds a lovely woman's head now~ A perfect decoration~"
"That was not its intended use… but acceptable." Gyokko huffed. "In any case, I must be off. Nakime, return me. Heh heh, perhaps we'll soon have a promising new Lower Moon."
"Eek eek, terrifying, terrifying…" Hantengu mumbled, trembling. "This old man must go as well…"
"Eh—" Doma sighed dramatically. "I didn't even get to chat~ But my best friend Akaza is still here~ Akazaaa~ Why not come visit my place~? I have so many delicious, nutritious girls~"
A vein bulged on Akaza's forehead. "The Lower Six you recommended died."
"Oh dear, how tragic~" Doma's iridescent eyes watered, tears spilling theatrically. "We were such good friends~ And yet you wound me so deeply~ Truly heartbreaking~ But I suppose it makes sense~ I became a demon after you, yet my rank is higher~ Anyone would feel sore about that~"
Akaza's jaw tightened, but one glance at Kokushibo kept him from responding.
"Nakime. Send me back."
As Akaza disappeared, Doma looked to Daki and Gyutaro.
"Send me and my brother back. Unlike the rest of you," Daki tossed her hair, chin lifted, "I am a busy celebrity."
Gyutaro waved pleasantly before sinking into her shadow.
Doma waved with a bright smile as they vanished, then turned to Kokushibo.
Kokushibo did not wish to speak. "Take me to… Nagano Shinano." [Former Shinano region.]
After he vanished, Doma's grin returned as he faced Nakime.
"Well then, Nakime, how about you and I—"
"No."
"Oh come now~ Don't be so cold—"
The biwa rang, echoing through the vast Infinity Castle.
Only Nakime remained.