Selling a Dream

Over the next three months, Muzan hardly created any demons. He simply kept laying people off, setting off fireworks for anyone he didn't like.

Jikou silently kept track of the subordinates Muzan had snuffed out behind him—there were already more than a hundred!

He was growing more and more afraid. With his boss's peculiar hobby of layoffs, he was bound to get laid off sooner or later!

Whenever the considerate Muzan read thoughts like that, he would pat Jikou on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I like the look of you, so I won't lay you off!"

Jikou truly had no way to feel reassured!

There were only a little over two hundred demons in total, and Muzan had already snuffed out more than half of them!

Besides, what exactly did he mean by liking the look of him? Jikou was terrified that one day, Muzan would suddenly decide he didn't like the look of him anymore!

Muzan couldn't be bothered to explain.

The two arrived in a place that had just experienced a war.

Although the place they had reached belonged to the victorious side, it was still a scene of utter misery. All they could see were the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled.

The moment Muzan entered the city, he saw something like a slum. Emaciated people in tattered clothes were everywhere in the streets. Yet in the distance stood a towering building, lavish and extravagant, its candlelight illuminating the entire massive structure as brightly as day.

The streets were muddy and reeked of blood and filth. Flies and insects crawled everywhere.

The moment they saw the two, the beggars and refugees by the roadside pleaded with all the strength they had, as though they had seen their saviors.

Muzan frowned. To be honest, he had seen plenty of scenes like this over the past few months.

At first, he had given them some money out of kindness, but once he did, they would all swarm around him, as if helping one person meant he had to help them all.

He suddenly turned to Jikou. "Let's start a revolution!"

Jikou: "???"

What did you say?

Fine, Muzan couldn't be bothered to go through the trouble.

His ambitions weren't that grand anyway.

"Forget it. It's boring."

Muzan walked through the refugees and looked around, eventually noticing a little boy holding his younger sister.

Though he looked frail and powerless, his eyes were clear. Muzan suddenly felt that there was something he could work with.

"Jikou, bring those two children along."

Jikou: "???"

What was the grown-up planning to do now?

He understood it now. Although Demon King Muzan ate people, he did not eat them indiscriminately. He even helped people in passing.

But that was not important. What mattered was that his mind was always full of things no one else could understand.

Jikou had no delusions of figuring out the Demon King's thoughts. He walked over without a word, picked up the two children, and followed.

As for their struggles and pleas—those were completely useless.

They found an inn. Jikou followed behind Muzan, and the innkeeper said nothing even when he saw them brazenly dragging two children inside.

After renting two rooms, Jikou glanced at Muzan's expression, tossed the two children onto the floor, and shut the door.

The two children were frightened. Their whole bodies hurt from being thrown down, but they did not dare make a sound. They huddled together and looked fearfully at the two people who appeared to be very wealthy.

These two did not look like the sort to save people out of kindness, and they were so rough with them. Could they be slave traders?!

Muzan softened his footsteps as he approached beneath their fearful gazes. He crouched before the children, looked at them, and stroked their heads.

"Do you want the strength to keep yourselves fed and warm in this chaotic world?"

The children curled up and trembled, too afraid to raise their heads. Hearing that, the boy could not help but be surprised. He cautiously looked up. "M-My lord, you..."

A clear light of expectation shone in both their eyes.

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Muzan smiled.

"I can give you strength, but you will have to give up something in return. Do you have the resolve?"

The little boy swallowed and looked at his younger sister, who was curled up in his arms, naked and emaciated.

"Yes!"

Satisfaction showed through Muzan's smile, though he seemed to be confirming it once more. "No matter the price?"

The little boy nodded firmly.

"Good." Muzan smiled and stroked his head. Then his nails suddenly lengthened, and shnk! He drove one into the boy's skull.

Before the boy could react, terror filled his pupils. His little sister immediately bristled and opened her mouth to bite Muzan's arm.

But Muzan drove a nail into her skull as well.

The two children were overwhelmed by excruciating pain. Thinking they were about to die, they turned pleading eyes toward Jikou, who stood behind Muzan, begging him to show mercy and save them.

But all they saw was an utterly emotionless face, coldly watching the scene unfold.

In truth, Jikou was jealous.

Muzan pulled back his fingers and watched the two writhe on the ground, screaming in pain. Then he glanced back at Jikou. "I'll give you more blood later."

Muzan had a high degree of control over the demons under him, and he also knew roughly how much of his blood they could withstand. Jikou could still accept quite a bit more of it.

The previous Scum Boss had never had the patience to make his demons stronger. He would give them a little blood to control them, then leave them alone.

Now, Muzan felt it was necessary to improve his subordinates' strength.

He did not want the demons he valued to become accomplishments for the Demon Slayer Corps.

As for the two children's wails, even if the inn's soundproofing was poor, no one would be idle enough to meddle in such business.

Before long, their pain faded. They lay spread-eagled on the floor, gasping for breath, still shaken by the ordeal.

Muzan also learned their names from their thoughts. The older brother was Maruoka Masahito, and the younger sister was Maruoka Kinuko.

The amount of blood Muzan had given them was neither much nor little. The fact that they had endured it showed they were already strong enough. Perhaps they could even reach the threshold of the Lower Ranks.

Though the Lower Ranks were not all that strong either.

By then, the two also understood what had happened. They had become evil demons who survived by eating people, and the identities of the two before them were obvious.

But why them?

Muzan sat on a stool, drinking water that would not develop a rotten stench. "Because I like the look of you two."

They froze, undisguised shock and panic appearing on their faces.

He can read our thoughts?

"Yes, so don't go thinking random things from now on."

Muzan looked down at them and continued, "Stop lying there. I turned you into demons because I have a task for you."

The two stood before him with their heads lowered, seemingly already sensing that their lives were under his control. "What do you need us to do?"

Muzan smiled with the air of an ambitious schemer. "Do you want to try a Farming Stream?"

"???"

"Do you want to change this world? Create a beautiful world where everyone is equal, with no hunger or oppression?"

Words like those were immensely tempting to children who had suffered through hunger and cold.

The two could not suppress the longing in their eyes, yet they could not understand what such a world had to do with demons who ate people.

"You now possess strength ordinary people do not have. Why can't you use your own hands to carve out a nation, a beautiful country ruled by you, where everyone lives and works in peace and contentment?"

Muzan was like the leader of a pyramid scheme, wildly selling the two of them a dream.