It Really Was

It Really Was

Muzan slowed his movements, pretending not to have noticed anything as he continued forward at an unhurried pace.

At that moment, the person hiding around the corner had already raised the weapon in her hand high overhead, waiting only for Muzan to turn the corner so she could strike.

As if he knew nothing, Muzan slowly turned around. The person suddenly brought the iron awl down.

The next second, Muzan caught the awl in his hand. He also got a clear look at his attacker: a long-haired woman in shabby clothes.

Realizing her attack had failed, and terrified by Muzan's absurd reaction speed and strength, she hurriedly tried to wrench her weapon back.

But Muzan's grip was ironclad. She could not pull it free at all, so she decisively let go and turned to flee.

To her surprise, Muzan grabbed her wrist the next second and yanked her over.

She lost her footing and crashed to the ground.

Muzan still held her hand tightly as he looked down at her.

In her eyes, this ridiculously strong man's gaze was terrifying, and he appeared very displeased.

But she did not know that Muzan was actually thrilled. The scene before him seemed almost identical to how it had been described in the manga.

Could it really be Nakime?!

Looking at the terrified woman on the ground, Muzan said nothing. His nails instantly lengthened, and he viciously drove them into her.

Nakime's pupils contracted. Agonizing pain shot through her forehead, followed by a burning sensation that spread throughout her body. It felt as though she could explode at any moment.

Muzan pulled back his hand, flicked the blood from his fingers, and watched the woman curled up on the ground screaming.

Finally, after a moment, her voice calmed. Aside from her ragged breathing and racing heartbeat, her expression returned to normal. The instant she became a demon, she learned that the being before her was the infamous Demon King, and that she had become his subordinate.

Nakime showed no emotional change and immediately accepted her new identity.

Having long endured her husband's abuse, struggling through a difficult life and desperately trying to survive, she had already gone numb inside. As long as she lived, she wanted nothing else.

She slowly crawled to her feet, then respectfully knelt on the ground.

Muzan could finally confirm it. The woman before him was Nakime, Scum Boss's "secretary" from the original story.

But after reading Nakime's memories, Muzan could not help sympathizing with her. He was also glad he had found her before she began killing more people merely to perform.

Otherwise, if Nakime became addicted to killing, he would have to talk her out of it.

After all, he rather appreciated Nakime. She was an excellent support, and he did not want to give up on her just like that.

Still, Nakime's nearly numb state of mind was twisted enough as it was.

Nakime's screams had also drawn the attention of nearby people. Muzan went over, grabbed her by the shoulder, and vanished with her.

Nakime's Blood Demon Art was naturally the same as in the original story—Infinity Castle.

But honestly, thinking about it now, he did not seem to have much need for Infinity Castle. At most, it gave him another place to live...

Muzan brought Nakime to the house where he lived, tossed her aside, and only after reclining in his beloved rocking chair did he look at her and say:

"Stop kneeling. Go pick a room."

At the same time, Muzan notified the demons under his command to come explain the future rules and requirements to Nakime.

No indiscriminate killing of innocents, mandatory studying, and so on.

Perhaps influenced by nine years of compulsory education, Muzan simply felt that the demons under him could not be illiterate!

Meanwhile, prompted by Muzan, Yoriichi began paying attention to the condition of his older brother, Tsugikuni Kokushibo.

In truth, Tsugikuni Kokushibo had not gone out of his way to conceal his emotions.

A midsummer downpour lashed the courtyard. Through the window, Yoriichi saw Tsugikuni Kokushibo practicing his sword without pause, as he had for ten years. Red-bean-sized raindrops pelted Tsugikuni Kokushibo's body densely and heavily like stones.

Yoriichi clearly saw the resentment and suppression on his brother's face, and Muzan's words kept surfacing in his mind.

Feeling distressed, Yoriichi picked up a bamboo umbrella beside him, pushed open the door, and opened it.

Kokushibo was immersed in the dense sound of rain and did not notice Yoriichi approaching beneath the umbrella until its shadow covered his head.

Raindrops pattered against the umbrella. Water dripped from Kokushibo's hair as he turned and saw Yoriichi's worried face. His already displeased expression grew even darker. He stared at Yoriichi with a gloomy face, his voice full of impatience and disgust.

"What are you doing here?"

"Brother, the rain is too heavy. Take a break."

Yoriichi held the umbrella as rain streamed from its edges onto his shoulders.

"I don't need your concern!"

Tsugikuni Kokushibo shoved Yoriichi away. He had no need for Yoriichi to shield him from the rain!

Yoriichi took a step back. Through the heavy filter he had once viewed things with, he had only thought this behavior showed Kokushibo's determination to seize every second and his competitive nature. But with Muzan's reminder, he finally realized that Kokushibo seemed dissatisfied with him.

Just as Muzan had said, the overly competitive Kokushibo had watched the younger brother he was supposed to protect become a genius, while he himself became the "weaker one." His unwillingness had stirred up jealousy and madness.

"You don't need to push yourself this hard. No matter what, I'm only your younger brother."

Yoriichi watched his older brother raise his sword again and swing it through the rain.

Tsugikuni Kokushibo stopped at those words, frowning. He turned to Yoriichi again, a mocking smile on his face.

"You think everyone is born a genius like you?! Huh?!"

His suppressed emotions burst out uncontrollably. Kokushibo suddenly stepped forward, seized Yoriichi by the collar, and roared at him.

"I've worked hard for so many years!

Every day, it's sword practice, sword practice! Yet I'm still no match for you! Why?!

Just because you're a genius?!

Why you?!

It should have been me!

I should be the one standing before everyone else!"

Tsugikuni Kokushibo's dream was not merely to become the strongest warrior. He also wanted to be the strong one who bore everything, stood before everyone, protected the weak—including Yoriichi—and shouldered the responsibilities of the strong.

Yet in the blink of an eye, Yoriichi, who should have been the weaker one, possessed strength he could not reach. Attentive, gentle, powerful—the more perfect Yoriichi was, the more jealous he became.

But after venting his emotions, Tsugikuni Kokushibo saw that Yoriichi, whose collar he still clutched, was full of pity. His fury deepened for a moment, yet his expression instead returned to calm. He shoved Yoriichi aside.

"I don't need your pity. Get lost."

Yoriichi looked at Tsugikuni Kokushibo as he turned and picked up the sword thrown onto the ground. He remained silent for a long time, then bowed slightly with a sorrowful expression. "I'm sorry."

Tsugikuni Kokushibo glanced back at him, let out a scornful "Tsk," and paid Yoriichi no further attention.

He needed no one's pity. He only needed to devote all his effort to surpassing this so-called genius, then become the strongest warrior—the strongest person capable of protecting the weak.