Go Pick Up Heads

With that, Upper Rank One and the Upper Rank ceiling were assembled.

Over forty years had passed, and Muzan had been quite displeased.

This was because he discovered there were no sunflower seeds here!

Why were there no sunflower seeds!

Every time he wanted to join the fun and snack on some seeds, he couldn't!

Fortunately, there were watermelons, which he could gnaw on.

Thanks to his skillful control, Muzan always held a book in one hand and a watermelon in the other. Even if his hands were covered in watermelon juice, it didn't affect his reading of leisure books.

Discarding the rind, Muzan went to wash his hands and used his Blood Demon Art to arrive near Yoriichi's home.

It was the early morning, and the sun had not yet risen. Yoriichi was already up making breakfast.

In this era, a woman over seventy was considered very long-lived. However, by this time, Uta's body had grown increasingly weak, and she was now almost incapable of doing any work.

Breakfast had to be made by Yoriichi, and they could only eat things like porridge.

Muzan knocked on the door. Yoriichi, who was boiling porridge, glanced back, opened the door, and saw Muzan outside.

At this moment, Yoriichi still looked youthful, but the experiences of forty to fifty years had lent him a touch of weariness.

Yoriichi could anticipate Muzan's purpose for coming. He pointed towards Uta's room and said, "She'll wake up soon, you can wait a moment."

"Alright." Muzan found a place to sit and looked at Yoriichi, who was busy nearby, asking curiously:

"Where are your son and grandson?"

"They joined the Demon Slayer Corps."

Muzan: "..."

Impressive.

Creak~

The door made a soft creaking sound. Yoriichi, carrying a bowl of porridge, opened the door and walked in.

In the not-so-large room, the aged Uta lay on the tatami, covered with a quilt, and slowly opened her eyes.

Yoriichi went over, placed the porridge aside, squatted down to help Uta sit up, picked up the bowl, and used the spoon to feed her.

Uta leaned against the wall, smiled, swallowed a few mouthfuls of porridge, and then couldn't help but cough.

Finally stopping her cough, Uta looked at Yoriichi:

"You don't blame me for refusing to become a demon, do you?"

Yoriichi shook his head: "No."

Uta smiled: "Thank you for taking care of me all these years. It's a shame I have to leave you alone."

Yoriichi seemed to understand Uta's meaning, his expression a little bitter. He put down the porridge and leaned against her.

Muzan saw that time was running out and hurried inside.

Uta looked at Muzan and smiled: "Lord Muzan..."

"This is truly the last time. Are you sure you don't want to become a demon?"

Uta shook her head: "It's no longer necessary. It's enough."

She had been happy. She had children and a husband who loved her. She had experienced what she wanted, and now she was content.

Everyone has their own aspirations. Uta no longer asked for anything more.

"Sigh—" Muzan sighed, "Alright, I'm leaving."

Uta smiled and leaned against Yoriichi: "Yoriichi, open the window, I want to see the sunrise."

"Okay."

Ten days later, Yoriichi arrived at the Infinity Castle and looked at Nakime:

"Where is Muzan?"

Nakime remained silent, gently plucking the strings of her biwa. With a soft strum, Yoriichi appeared in Muzan's courtyard.

Muzan looked up and, upon seeing Yoriichi, understood that Uta had passed away.

He put down his book and suddenly noticed Yoriichi's expressionless face, which even carried a hint of clarity and acceptance.

"You haven't also accepted fate and decided you don't want to live, have you?!"

Yoriichi: "..."

It seemed not.

Muzan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come, come, don't be sad. Uta made her own choice."

Muzan got down from his rocking chair and conjured a small sweet cookie from nowhere, handing it to Yoriichi: "Have something sweet, don't wear such a long face."

Yoriichi ate the cookie, tears involuntarily falling:

"For some reason, I've always felt like I've had a lot of happiness that I shouldn't have."

Muzan raised an eyebrow. The world of Demon Slayer was truly mysterious:

"Who cares if you were supposed to have it or not? As long as you're happy, that's all that matters. Don't overthink it."

Yoriichi nodded.

Muzan added:

"Ah, that's right. Kokushibo is looking for you."

Yoriichi: "?"

"He's been training his sword for decades and wants to spar with you. Shall I have Nakime send you over?"

Yoriichi nodded, taking the paper Muzan handed him to wipe the crumbs and grease from his hands.

Muzan, out of curiosity, was also teleported over.

Decades of wandering had also tired Kokushibo somewhat. He had opened a dojo and began honing his existing skills day and night, training his body.

Plus, if any foolish individuals showed up, he would "gladly accept" them, greatly increasing his strength.

Informed by Muzan, Yoriichi arrived and was immediately taken to a wide-open field.

Yoriichi and Muzan were also sent over by Nakime.

Kokushibo's expression was serious and solemn. He drew his long sword, ready for battle. Seeing Yoriichi, who had already gripped the sword handed to him by Muzan, he took a deep breath:

"Come on, don't hold back!"

Swish— Yoriichi drew his long sword.

Yoriichi, who had recently lost his wife, indeed needed an outlet. A terrifying aura emanated from him, and Kokushibo immediately felt immense pressure.

Tsugikuni Yoriichi unleashed his full power without mercy.

Sun Breathing!

The blade seemed to ignite, stirring up a scorching heatwave.

Thirteenth Form!

The next moment, Kokushibo's vision flashed, and he felt pain in his neck. The world spun, and his head was cleanly severed.

Instant kill!

Kokushibo didn't even have time to unleash his sword techniques before he was beheaded...

"Great! Kokushibo is defeated!"

Muzan, watching from the side as an amused referee, shouted.

Yoriichi sheathed his sword and looked at his headless elder brother: "Thank you."

He felt that his brother had used this as an excuse to vent, and now he truly felt less pain.

Kokushibo's face was grim. He had been instantly defeated despite his confidence. He wasn't exactly a magnanimous person, and this felt like a slap in the face.

Although it was somewhat interesting, and he hadn't expected to defeat Yoriichi, he at least wanted to put up a fight!

"Alright, don't look so glum. Go pick up your head!"

Muzan reminded Kokushibo from the side.

His head was still lying on the ground!

Kokushibo's expression worsened. He walked over, bent down, picked up his head, reattached it, and glared at his boss.

As for the swords they used, they were naturally ordinary swords. Otherwise, those who hadn't yet broken their limits and overcome decapitation couldn't withstand the strain.

Moreover, Nichirin Blades were indeed more powerful than regular swords.

Muzan went over and patted Kokushibo's shoulder:

"Relax, you've definitely gotten stronger. At least you're the strongest besides me and Yoriichi."

"I'm not that fragile."

Kokushibo glanced at Muzan, then looked towards his dwelling, "I've prepared lunch."

"Hooray! Kokushibo's treating today!"

Muzan, too lazy to cook himself, usually relied on the other demons' cooking, except when he went out to buy food.

Yoriichi: "..."

Of course, he had also been a frequent guest for meals.

Although Kokushibo's cooking skills weren't great, he knew how to enjoy life and would invite others to cook for him.

While humans were still the most tempting prey for demons, they wouldn't refuse other delicious foods if they could enjoy them.

Ordinary food digested quickly, but the barrier to obtaining it was much simpler than before.

As long as one didn't pursue strength excessively or encounter someone who was alive for no reason, they would generally eat well.