Chapter 2: For a Moment, It's Hard to Tell Who the Real Demon Is
As the boy's desperate shouts faded, Himejima Gyomei was already moving. The children's earlier commotion had roused him from his light sleep, and now, this new wave of terror sent him bolting toward the building where they were housed.
Blind since birth, Gyomei's other senses had sharpened to a preternatural degree. His hearing could parse the subtlest shifts in the air, his touch could read the world like a book, and his innate talent even allowed him to perceive the very essence of a person's being. On any normal day, if one were to ignore the milky white of his unseeing eyes, it would be impossible to distinguish him from anyone else. It was this remarkable awareness that had convinced the head priest and the other monks to entrust the children to his care.
At that same instant, as the last wisp of smoke from the demon-repelling incense dissipated into the air, Kanzaki Akira's voice rang out again, sharp with urgency. "Sayo, Hanaka, get back! Get away from the door!"
His warning came too late. The two little girls closest to the entrance had only just begun to turn their heads, their bodies not yet reacting, when the wooden door exploded inward. It didn't just break; it detonated, shattering into a storm of flying fragments.
The force of the blast sent their small bodies tumbling backward. Splinters of wood, some nearly as thick as a baby's forearm, speared through their arms and thighs with sickening thuds.
"Ah~ I didn't expect that brat could actually destroy the incense burner," a voice rasped from the doorway. A demon stood silhouetted against the night, a cruel grin stretching across its face as it surveyed the children inside, who had scrambled into the corners and were now huddled together, their bodies wracked with tremors.
Only then did Akira get a clear look at the creature. The phrase 'green-faced and long-fanged' was no exaggeration. Its skin was a sickly green, and a pair of horns, like gnarled red carrots, grew from its temples. The grin it wore was made all the more terrifying in the dim, flickering light of the room. As its lips curled back, it revealed a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth, and a foul, bloody stench washed over them with its every breath. This was no human; it was a man-eating demon.
Just as the monster prepared to step across the threshold, a sound from the side drew its attention.
"Monster! Don't you dare hurt the children!"
...
By the time Gyomei reached the children's quarters, his senses were screaming. He perceived an aura of deep filth and malice emanating from a figure that had just casually obliterated the wooden door. The cries of more than a dozen children, thick with a panic so raw it was almost a physical force, flooded his ears.
"Monster! Don't you dare hurt the children!" Realizing the immediate danger, Gyomei stomped his foot into the earth. The ground cracked under the force, and his nearly two-meter-tall frame shot forward like a cannonball, bursting through a cloud of dust toward the demon that was about to step inside.
The demon barely had time to turn its head before a fist, almost as large as its own head, filled its vision, rushing to meet the tip of its nose.
In the next instant, the world tumbled. Its vision spun violently as it was launched backward, the wooden house shrinking rapidly in the distance.
In his desperate bid to save the children, Gyomei's full-power punch had sent the head of the newly-turned demon flying clean off its shoulders.
Even Gyomei himself froze for a second, stunned. He had always known his strength and physique were abnormal. He constantly restrained his power when interacting with others, so much so that he had no real concept of what a full-strength blow from him was truly like.
Akira was just as dazed by the sight. From the memories of his past life that had just flooded back to him, he knew the future Gyomei would be a titan of the Demon Slayer Corps. But this Gyomei was not yet twenty, and the temple's meager food was only enough to stave off starvation. He had been in a state of long-term malnutrition for years.
Even so, with a single, desperate strike, he could decapitate a demon whose physical strength far surpassed that of an average adult.
One could only say he was every bit the man who would one day wield a flail and chain with the force of a storm. The raw power was immense.
But conventional means could not kill a demon. The headless body was still moving.
"Mr. Himejima, watch your back!"
Akira's shout snapped Gyomei back to his senses. The sound of slicing wind was already at his back, almost grazing his skin. He had no choice but to throw himself into a forward roll, desperately trying to dodge.
He was a fraction of a second too slow. Though the demon had temporarily lost its sight with its head gone, Gyomei's towering height became a liability. The creature's wild swing still caught him, its claws tearing a gash across his back.
It wasn't deep, but it drew blood instantly.
A muffled groan escaped Gyomei's lips as pain flared across his back. He scrambled to his feet, turning to face the headless demon that was now moving on its own. In his perception, the creature was clearly humanoid, yet it could still function perfectly after being decapitated. Its claws were impossibly sharp; the slightest touch could tear flesh.
Worse, if his senses weren't deceiving him, the monster's head was already regrowing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Little did he know, the demon was even more shocked. A mere human had punched its head off. For a dizzying, dislocated moment, it almost couldn't tell who the real demon was.
"That kind of monster can't be killed by normal means! It needs sunlight. For now, we have to find a way to restrain it!" Just as man and demon were frozen in their mutual astonishment, Akira's voice cut through the tension.
"Brat!" the demon snarled, its mouth having already reformed. A low, threatening growl rumbled in its throat, directed at Akira.
It knew its own fatal weakness, of course, but it never expected a child to know it too. Information about demons wasn't something that circulated among common folk. Hadn't that giant of a man—the one whose destructive power was more demonic than any demon's—been stunned by its ability to survive decapitation?
But the demon's purpose here was to eat, not to brawl. As its head continued to regenerate, it began searching for a way to bypass Gyomei and snatch a few children. That one punch had thoroughly disabused it of the notion of a direct confrontation. The only reason it dared to remain instead of turning to flee was its nigh-un-killable nature.
It couldn't stay for long, however. Though it was only midnight, with hours to go until dawn, it knew of an organization in this world called the Demon Slayer Corps, dedicated specifically to hunting its kind. The Corps possessed Nichirin Blades that could kill a demon without sunlight. For a fledgling demon like itself, the threat they posed was absolute.
While the demon was still trying to scheme, Gyomei, galvanized by Akira's reminder, had already taken action.
How does one restrain a monster that won't die even if its head is knocked off?
A normal person might think of finding strong ropes or an iron cage. But Gyomei was no ordinary person. And so, his method was simple: he would break the monster's limbs, torso, and head, over and over again, until the sun rose.
Thump!
Crack!
"Damn human—"
"Ah—!"
"I'll kill you!"
"I—"
Thud!
A brutal percussion of muffled impacts and the demon's strangled curses filled the night as Gyomei began his unique method of "restraint." The absolute disparity in strength meant the demon was little more than a living punching bag. Its limbs were shattered the moment they healed. Its head was knocked from its shoulders the instant it grew back. Gyomei's terrifying force was so great that the very ground where they fought began to sink, forming a shallow pit. The prayer beads he usually wore wrapped around his wrist had long since snapped, scattering across the dirt floor.
Seeing this, Akira moved to stop the other children who, inspired by Gyomei's ferocity, were about to rush forward and "help." He then hurried to the side of the two injured girls.
A quick glance confirmed that while their injuries were grievous, the wooden splinters had miraculously missed any major arteries. For the time being, their lives were not in danger. Lacking any medical knowledge, Akira didn't dare try to move them, fearing he might cause a secondary injury. He could only shift his attention back to the brutal struggle.
Although Gyomei completely overwhelmed the demon in terms of raw power, the repeated beatings had triggered the creature's primal, bestial nature. Relying on its powerful self-healing, it abandoned all defense and began to trade injuries with Gyomei. For a terrifying moment, it actually showed signs of breaking free from his relentless suppression.
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