"My lord, what should we do next?"
The black-haired demon casually tossed Kawanishi beside Kie, then suddenly spoke with reverence.
At that moment, atop the roof of the small wooden cabin, standing against the howling snowstorm, was a man dressed in a black floral-patterned suit and a white fedora.
The face beneath the brim was impossibly handsome.
Despite the wind and snow, not a single strand of his hair was out of place, nor a wrinkle on his pristine clothing.
His name was Kibutsuji Muzan—the original demon who had existed for over a thousand years, the absolute ruler of all demons, the King of Demons.
Muzan lowered his gaze slightly, his eyes showing a strange glint, as if deep in thought.
In a flash, he appeared inside the cabin, his back to Kawanishi.
Muzan looked down at his feet, the tips of his shoes stained with red, as everything around him was soaked in blood.
It seemed the guardian of the Kamado family was truly dead.
"Too messy. Black Hair, be elegant."
The black-haired demon immediately dropped to his knees, ignoring the blood and dirt on the floor. His whole body trembled, the arrogance he displayed moments ago gone, his ferocious face now twisted in fear.
"Forgive me, my lord. I'll be more careful next time."
But Muzan said calmly, "There is no next time."
The black-haired demon froze, terror deepening on his face.
"My lord…"
Before he could finish, a thick arm violently burst through his mouth, sending him into agony.
Demons felt pain just like humans.
The black-haired demon, now dead, began to crumble into red-and-black ash, fading into the stormy cabin.
Until the end, Muzan had not looked at him once.
Muzan glanced first at Kie and Kawanishi, then toward the bodies of Nezuko and the others.
Then, his gaze seemed to settle on something he found pleasing. His usually cold, lifeless eyes lit up.
"This little girl... you will carry my hope. Become a demon and live on."
His chosen target was a small girl with a round face, barely the size of a palm.
Her large black-and-white eyes were dull, her once bright and plump cheeks now pale and sickly from blood loss. It was Nezuko.
On her tiny face still lingered the peaceful smile she had while sleeping beside her family.
They had been killed in their sleep—necks snapped without feeling pain.
Muzan stepped toward Nezuko.
But suddenly, he felt a tight grip around his ankle and stopped in surprise.
Looking down, he saw Kawanishi, using his blood-soaked hands, tightly clutching Muzan's ankle.
"Oh? Still conscious?"
Muzan was curious. He had seen the black-haired demon's strike—it had crushed Kawanishi's facial bones like steel. Such an injury was certainly fatal without immediate aid.
And yet, even in this state, he still had the will to resist.
"Feeble and useless... but this last struggle for family—I do like that," Muzan said with interest.
Kawanishi's consciousness had not completely faded, though it was clouded and devoid of coherent thought.
Muzan crouched down and spoke softly to him.
"Looks painful, doesn't it? Let go. Death is a release. You have no power to change anything."
"Remember this—weakness is the greatest sin."
At that moment, Kawanishi's life had completely slipped away, his body stiffening.
Muzan stood up and tried to shake off Kawanishi's grip. His strength dragged Kawanishi's entire body along the floor.
Yet Kawanishi's hands refused to let go.
Muzan tried again, but the result was the same.
He shook his head, then casually waved his hand. A flash of cold light swept past—Kawanishi's arms shattered completely from shoulder to fingertip, falling uselessly to the floor.
"Still clinging even in death… how curious."
"In that case... I'll turn you into a demon along with the girl. You'll both serve me when you're strong enough."
Muzan sliced open his own wrist. A stream of blood floated from the wound, then split in two midair and flowed into Kawanishi's and Nezuko's mouths.
"I look forward to meeting you both again."
Tipping his fedora slightly, Muzan vanished from the ruined cabin in a blur.
Leaving behind only blood, corpses, and a pair of siblings beginning their transformation into demons.
**
Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!
After a while, Kawanishi slowly opened his eyes. A faint red tint had entered his vision.
His arms had fully healed, and the five bloody holes in his cheeks, along with the fractured bones, were all gone. No wounds remained on his body.
Kibutsuji Muzan had turned Kawanishi into a demon with his blood.
Aside from a few specific countermeasures, demons were nearly immortal, capable of rapid recovery from even the worst injuries.
Kawanishi's mind was still hazy. Guided by instinct, he began lapping up the blood on the floor.
But soon, the traces on the ground weren't enough to satisfy him. Following the trail, Kawanishi found the source of the blood.
It was a face he would never forget—Kie.
Fresh blood was still flowing from her neck.
The sight of her pale, lifeless face jolted Kawanishi to his senses.
"What… have I done?!"
Memories of what had just happened flooded his mind, filling him with anguish and revulsion.
He clamped his hands tightly over his mouth, letting out a low, guttural cry of pain.
But only seconds after regaining clarity, the sweet scent of blood became even more intoxicating—and the hunger in his belly still raged on.
His awareness slipped again, and his eyes turned from red to a deep, blood-soaked crimson.
He struggled desperately to control his body, trying to crawl away from Kie.
But the demon instinct was too powerful. Kawanishi's hands dropped from his mouth, and he opened his jaws, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs.
His face twisted in agony, yet he still slowly leaned closer to Kie.
His lips pulled back, jaws stretching wide—about to bite down.
(End of Chapter)