After assigning the task, Muzan Kibutsuji dismissed Kokushibo, sending him back to his residence without further explanation.
Left alone within the shifting halls of the Infinity Castle, Muzan's expression darkened slightly as he reviewed the report once more.
"…To think I must deploy an Upper Rank for something like this."
His voice carried faint irritation.
In truth, the mission itself posed no real threat. A subordinate demon had seemingly slipped beyond his controlan unusual occurrence, but not unheard of.
Normally, such matters would be handled swiftly by the lower ranks.
However, all members of the Twelve Kizuki were currently engaged in their respective assignments.
All except one.
Kokushibo.
Thus, the task had fallen to him.
As for the demon in question…
It was not powerful.
Nor particularly noteworthy.
The reason Muzan had lost track of it was far more absurdit was already dead.
The demon, having suffered from a fractured mental state even prior to its transformation, had clung to a delusion: that it was still alive.
That distorted self-awareness had persisted long enough to interfere with Muzan's perception through their shared blood.
Even in death, the lingering illusion had masked the truth.
"…Useless creature."
Muzan dismissed the matter with a cold glance.
Such instability was precisely why he valued control above all else.
Demons were tools.
Nothing more.
And tools that malfunctioned were discarded.
For a brief moment, his thoughts shiftedtoward a deeper, more ingrained fear.
The possibility of rebellion.
Though Muzan possessed absolute authority over those who carried his blood, that control was not without limits. If multiple powerful demons were to act in perfect unison, even he could not guarantee complete certainty.
That was why he kept them divided.
Why he fostered fear.
Why he never allowed bonds to form.
His fingers tightened slightly.
"…I will not allow history to repeat itself."
The shadow of Yoriichi Tsugikuni lingered, even now.
Shaking off the thought, Muzan adjusted his attirecurrently adopting the appearance of a refined womanand returned to his chambers as though nothing had occurred.
Back at his residence, Kokushibo considered the assignment.
"A demon breaking free of control…"
Such a scenario did not align with the original flow of events he remembered.
But then
This was no longer that same path.
His actions had already begun to alter the course of things.
Subtly, perhaps.
But undeniably.
"…So be it."
There was no avoiding it.
Even he could not simply ignore Muzan's orders.
Two nights later, Kokushibo arrived in the designated region.
The journey had been long, though distance held little meaning for him.
He moved swiftly, silently, crossing vast terrain beneath the cover of darkness.
Upon reaching the last known location of the incident, he searched thoroughly.
Nothing.
No trace of demonic presence.
No lingering scent.
No residual aura.
Only emptiness.
After some inquiry among the locals, he uncovered the truth.
A few days prior, a Demon Slayer had already arrivedand eliminated a deranged, man-eating creature.
Kokushibo stood in silence.
"…So it was already resolved."
For a moment, even he found the situation absurd.
Muzan had dispatched him… for nothing.
A mission completed before it was ever assigned.
A faint irritation surfaced.
Two nights of travel, wasted.
"…Tch."
With nothing left to do, Kokushibo turned toward the nearby town.
The shopping district bustled with activity, lanterns casting warm light across the streets.
Kokushibo walked calmly through the crowd, his presence drawing uneasy glances.
A blind swordsman.
In an era where such figures had all but vanished.
It was not long before authorities took notice.
Two officers approached, batons raised cautiously.
"You there! Put down your weapon and kneel!"
Kokushibo did not respond.
Instead, he stepped forward.
In a single motion, he seized one of the extended batons and pushed the officer aside with effortless force.
The man stumbled, collapsing to the ground.
The surrounding crowd recoiled instantly, clearing a path without hesitation.
Kokushibo continued walking as though nothing had occurred.
High above, from the window of a tall building, a man watched the scene unfold.
His pipe slipped from his fingers.
"…That strength…"
His name was Watanabe Kihei, a wealthy merchant and head of a powerful trading company in the region.
Despite his success, he lived in constant unease.
His rivals possessed connectionsdangerous ones.
The kind that operated in shadows.
And he had none.
Turning sharply, he summoned his secretary.
"Find that man. Bring him to me."
Not long after, Kokushibo was intercepted.
A man stood in his path, tense yet determined.
"Our employer wishes to meet you."
"…Move," Kokushibo replied flatly. "Or I will cut you down."
The man flinched, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of Kokushibo's killing intent.
"P-Please, don't misunderstand! My master only wishes to speak!"
The word "master" lingered briefly in Kokushibo's mind.
For a fleeting moment, he thought of his own.
Then dismissed it.
"…Very well."
He was led to a private office.
The door shut behind him.
Locked.
Kokushibo remained unmoved.
Before him stood a slightly overweight man, wringing his hands nervously.
"Welcome! My name is Watanabe Kihei. I am the head of this company."
His smile was strained.
"I wish to hire you as my bodyguard. Name your price."
Kokushibo gave a faint, amused exhale.
Another one.
As his gaze drifted across the room, something caught his attention.
A photograph.
A group portrait.
Though his eyes remained closed, his perception through the Transparent World revealed its details clearly.
The distinctive features…
The bearing…
"…The Ubuyashiki Family."
Kihei noticed his pause.
"Is something the matter?"
Kokushibo ignored the question.
"You have enemies."
"Yes! Yes, exactly!" Kihei nodded rapidly. "They are weaker than me individually, but their backing… it is dangerous."
"Do you have family?"
"Nonone. I am alone."
Silence followed.
Then
Kokushibo smiled.
"Then… shall I turn you into a demon?"
In an instant, all six of his eyes opened.
The oppressive aura of a being beyond human descended upon the room.
Kihei froze.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
Before he could scream, Kokushibo's hand closed over his face.
"Make a sound," he said quietly, "and you die."
Terror swallowed Kihei whole.
Yet, having previously dealt with matters involving the Demon Slayer Corps, he recognized the truth.
Demons.
They were real.
Shaking, he nodded.
Kokushibo released him with visible distaste, wiping his hand against the man's clothing.
"…Pathetic."
At once, Kihei collapsed to his knees.
"Please! Spare me! I will give you everything I own!"
Kokushibo watched him silently.
This had not been a random impulse.
A thought had taken root.
If demons could not operate freely in the human world during daylight…
Then a human intermediary could.
Someone with influence.
Resources.
Connections.
"…I can grant you power," Kokushibo said slowly. "As a demon, you would no longer fear those who threaten you."
Kihei hesitated.
The temptation was real.
But so was the fear.
Kokushibo raised his hand slightly.
"…However, you will lose the sun."
That single truth shattered the illusion.
Kihei lunged forward, clutching at Kokushibo's leg.
"No! PleaseI don't want that! I don't want to become a demon!"
Kokushibo looked down at him, his expression unreadable.
The night stretched on in silence.