The turning point in the siblings' fate finally arrived when Ume turned thirteen.
While waiting upon a samurai, the man spoke ill of Gyutaro. In response, Ume took a hairpin and stabbed him, blinding him in one eye.
This was something few ordinary women would dare do — it required immense courage.
And she was still barely more than a girl.
Yet for Ume, there had been no hesitation at all when it came to hurting someone.
She had been protected so thoroughly by Gyutaro all her life… and moreover, as she grew older, her exquisite beauty and graceful figure made it easy for her to captivate men.
This only fed her arrogance and domineering nature.
No longer did she or Gyutaro have to endure the hunger and hardship of their early years…
Gyutaro himself had become a feared and ruthless debt collector.
His deep‑seated sense of inferiority had long since turned to pride, all because of his sister.
He had also discovered what brought him pleasure: the terrified looks people gave him as he walked the streets or when he used violence openly.
His brutal methods and ugly appearance had, in his eyes, suddenly become something to be proud of.
And he relished it.
But every cause brings its effect.
Just as in the original story, while Gyutaro was out collecting debts, that same injured samurai, together with the brothel madam, seized Ume and burned her alive in broad daylight.
Not a single resident along Rashōmon Bank stepped forward to stop them or warn Gyutaro.
The reason was simple — they too hated the siblings.
When Gyutaro returned and saw what had happened to Ume, he was utterly shattered.
Attacked from behind by the samurai and stabbed, he had fought back desperately with his sickle, despite his small frame, and killed both the samurai and the madam.
Oboro had watched the whole scene from the shadows.
He saw Gyutaro holding Ume's body, screaming in grief and rage.
And he saw how her soul began to change… gradually turning foul and corrupted.
"Master…"
Chiyo stood beside him, her hand pressed to her mouth.
Her heart ached for all that Gyutaro had endured.
Oboro had arrived long before and observed everything unseen; it was clear he had foreseen this outcome, yet he had chosen not to intervene.
This boy's suffering was even greater than that of Sawagawa years ago.
After all, both he and Chiyo had watched Gyutaro grow up from childhood, and they understood his pain as if it were their own.
"Why?!!"
"Why?! I already had nothing left — why must you take away the only thing I cherish? Why?!"
"Why have we lived in darkness since the day we were born, while trash like them get to be happy?!"
"Do gods and Buddhas truly exist in this world? What do you want from me…?!"
His cries of rage and despair echoed down the dark street.
Every word was filled with resentment.
The character for "Gyū" in his name, in the local dialect, originally meant "to collect debts."
But Gyutaro was no ordinary debt collector. He was not merely collecting money owed — he was collecting from the whole world, from all humanity.
To Gyutaro, the world itself was nothing but malice.
This was the root of the words he would become known for later: how even if he were to die and go to hell, no matter how many times he lived his life over, he would always choose to become a demon.
He never regretted it.
"Is anyone there?!"
"Please… I beg you… save my sister."
After a long while, his rage subsided. Still holding Ume's remains, he went from door to door, pleading for help.
But… no one answered.
They were not asleep. Some even knew exactly what had happened outside. Yet they chose to turn their backs and offer no help to the siblings.
Not even the smallest act of kindness.
And so Gyutaro wandered aimlessly through the streets, holding her close, feeling the warmth slowly fade from her flesh.
Snow began to fall from the sky, growing heavier by the minute.
He stumbled and fell to his knees beside her, weeping uncontrollably.
Oboro did not step out immediately. He waited for a while — for according to the original story, Doma, the future Upper Rank Six, should have appeared at this moment… but in this timeline, he did not.
Doma had never come to the Entertainment District; such was the butterfly effect of Oboro's presence.
Gyutaro had now fallen into total despair.
Oboro walked toward him, Chiyo following close behind.
The sound of footsteps caught Gyutaro's attention.
He lifted his head and saw two familiar figures: an elderly woman with white hair… and a man whose expression was calm and unreadable.
At the sight of them, Gyutaro froze.
It had been years since he had last seen Oboro and Chiyo.
Once, he had thought of bringing Ume to live at Oboro's estate — so that she might live a good life.
But in the end, he had given up on the idea.
Partly because he could not bear to be separated from her… and partly because he truly believed he himself could give her everything she needed.
He had been too proud.
If only he had sent her to Oboro from the start… perhaps none of this would have happened.
He knew, deep down, that the man would have agreed to take care of her.
Gyutaro had never known happiness. All things beautiful and good seemed naturally to keep their distance from him.
All except Ume… and now even she had been taken away.
Perhaps the only warmth left to him in this cold world stood right in front of him.
This man was the only one who had never looked down on him, the only one who had ever treated him with respect.
Chiyo held up a paper umbrella, shielding Oboro from the falling snow.
"Does it hurt?"
Oboro looked down at the small, frail figure kneeling in the snow and asked softly.
"Please… I beg you… save her." Gyutaro murmured almost unconsciously.
"For her sake… you would give everything you have, wouldn't you?"
Oboro crouched down, took off his black haori, and draped it over Gyutaro's shoulders.
Gyutaro nodded blankly. "Anything… I just want her to live."
Somehow, at that moment, Gyutaro felt as though Oboro possessed some kind of magic. Though it was clear his sister was beyond saving, he truly believed Oboro could bring her back.
Just like before — when the whole world had abandoned him, Oboro had been the only one to reach out and pull him back.
There was no need for Oboro to use hypnosis or manipulation on him. The fate of these siblings was naturally to become successors to his will.
The reason Oboro valued Gyutaro so highly was simple.
If he had to choose who would succeed the demons after Muzan's eventual death… regardless of how the story went, and purely judging by his potential… Gyutaro was the most capable and the best choice.
With the insight and experience gained from three lifetimes, Oboro could not be wrong.
Slap.
Suddenly, Oboro reached out and pulled Gyutaro into his arms.
His black haori had been given to only two people before.
The first was Kamado Tanjiro's ancestor, long ago — a garment that would be preserved and passed down within the Kamado family, just like the earrings they wore.
Along with it, they had inherited the breathing techniques Oboro had taught them — the perfected, refined version of Sun Breathing.
And now, the second was Gyutaro.
These two were unique.
It was an honor that no other inheritor or member of the Demon Slayer Corps had ever received.
"Remember this — there are no gods or Buddhas in this world. The only one you can rely on… is yourself."
"If the world treats you unjustly… then try to destroy it. Turn this world into hell. The one who is wrong… is not you."
"Everyone else… does not deserve to be happy."
____________________
For more advance chapters visit my patreon
patreon.com/kane45
Tier: 10$ Casual Reader - +20 Advance Chapter
20$ Intermediate Reader - +40 Advance Chapter
40$ Expert Reader - +80 Advance Chapter
Update: "Monday to Friday - Update 3 Chapters a Day"
"Saturday and Sunday - Off"