Demon Slayer: Starting with the Great Swordmaster System, My Master Tsugikuni

Muzan Failed Again and Again, the Town Called Nen'yūki

As he stepped into the cave, a damp chill washed over him.

The air was thick with a salty, pungent smell.

At the very depths of the cave, more than a dozen people were tied up.

Their eyes were shut, their breathing steady. They seemed to have been drugged unconscious.

There were men and women among them, all with different appearances, heights, and builds.

At first glance, they seemed to have nothing in common.

But Kokushibo did not think so. His nose had already told him everything.

All of them carried a similar scent.

It was a smell that only came from spending years fishing at sea and enduring countless storms.

Without a doubt, they were all fishermen.

Fishermen?

After giving it some thought, Kokushibo seemed to understand something.

The damage dealt by the Sun Breathing used by Scribe relied on high temperatures and flames.

If a powerful demon with an opposing affinity could be created, it would greatly restrain Scribe.

It was precisely with that hope that Muzan had captured these fishermen for his experiment.

"Skewer them all together."

Muzan's cold voice rang out as he gave Kokushibo an order.

Kokushibo nodded and activated his Blood Demon Art.

With two wet bursts, blood sprayed from his hands.

Under the effects of his Blood Demon Art, the blood gradually changed shape, becoming two sharp blades.

Swish! Swish!

With a sweep of his arms, the blades pierced through the fishermen's shoulders, stringing them together.

Roused by the intense pain, the sleeping fishermen opened their eyes wide and jolted awake one after another.

"Where am I?"

"What are these things?"

"Help! Save me!"

Seeing Kokushibo and Muzan before them, the awakened fishermen cried out desperately for help.

But Muzan showed no mercy. With a casual wave of his hand, he sliced open their carotid arteries.

He injected his own blood into them, turning them into demons.

Their cries stopped abruptly as their bodies began convulsing wildly, as though seized by epilepsy.

Foam spilled from their mouths, their eyes bulged outward, and gurgling sounds came from their throats.

Very soon, most of them began showing demonic traits.

Their teeth lengthened, their nails grew, their eyes turned red, and their breathing became rapid.

But two of them showed no change at all, their bodies continuing to tremble uncontrollably.

Muzan glanced at the two fishermen who had not changed and snapped his fingers.

Receiving Muzan's signal, Kokushibo activated his Blood Demon Art once more.

The next moment, countless blades burst from the two fishermen's bodies, slicing them into pieces.

Not everyone could become a demon. Some people had unusual constitutions that made transformation impossible.

And to Muzan, fishermen who could not become demons had only one fate: death.

With the fishermen who could not transform dealt with, all that remained was to wait.

Another minute or two passed before the first fisherman completed his transformation.

Kokushibo lowered him to the ground and asked Muzan with some doubt, "Forgive my bluntness, Lord Muzan, but can one transformed so quickly truly have any guaranteed strength?"

Muzan had previously mentioned that the stronger a being was, the longer it took to transform into a demon.

Kokushibo himself had taken three full days and nights to transform, while this one had taken only a few minutes.

The difference between them was obvious.

"What I need is a useful Blood Demon Art. If he is weak, I can have him eat humans. If his talent is insufficient, I can give him more blood."

After answering Kokushibo, Muzan stepped in front of the newly transformed fisherman.

"Use your Blood Demon Art."

The demonized fisherman respectfully lowered his head and obediently used his Blood Demon Art.

Since it was his first time using it, he was somewhat unskilled.

He clenched his fists and held them upright before him, strange sounds coming from his throat.

Haa~~~

Seeing such a bizarre movement, Kokushibo grew a little curious.

Muzan was even somewhat excited. Could his luck really be this good? Had he found a suitable Blood Demon Art on the first try?

After a low growl, the demonized fisherman successfully unleashed his Blood Demon Art.

His formerly human head transformed into something resembling a large shrimp's head.

Two long, thin antennae appeared on his once-smooth head, while his arms turned into small shrimp claws.

After that, he stopped moving.

Why had he stopped? Keep going.

Frowning, Muzan ordered him to continue.

Uh, my lord, this is my Blood Demon Art.

Waving his hands—no, waving his shrimp claws—the demonized fisherman looked rather helpless.

There was nothing else.

Muzan's face darkened, and the veins on his forehead bulged violently.

He had waited so long just to see a human-shaped shrimp?

With a wave of his hand, Muzan blasted the demonized fisherman into fragments, completely destroying his cells.

His chest heaved continuously, and his hands curled into claws.

It was clear just how furious Muzan was at feeling fooled.

Continue!

Glancing at the second demonized fisherman, Muzan suppressed his rage and spoke coldly.

The second fisherman stepped before him and used his Blood Demon Art.

As he activated it, his body began to bend downward, and hard, shell-like material appeared across its surface.

His arms grew thin and long, while his legs seemed to split apart.

Could the second one have succeeded?

His anger instantly turned to excitement. Muzan gritted his teeth, his expression slightly agitated.

In the end, the demonized fisherman turned into a crab.

That was it? Nothing else?

Yes. That was it.

After that brief exchange, Muzan once again sentenced a demonized fisherman to death.

Continue!

Motioning for Kokushibo to bring down the third demonized fisherman, Muzan refused to believe the third one could still be a shrimp or crab.

The third demonized fisherman did not disappoint him. It was not a crustacean like a shrimp or crab.

In the end, he turned into an octopus.

Without asking anything further, Muzan sentenced him to death again.

The fourth turned into a seahorse. Death.

The fifth turned into a squid. Death.

The sixth—

Before long, only the last demonized fisherman remained.

Without exception, every demonized fisherman who had turned into a sea creature before this had been sentenced to death by Muzan.

With a dark expression, Muzan gritted his teeth and said, Use your Blood Demon Art.

The demonized fisherman nodded seriously and closed his eyes, as though sensing something.

One minute passed. Then two. Then five.

Watching the demonized fisherman remain motionless, Muzan said coldly, What are you doing? Hurry up and use your Blood Demon Art.

Opening his eyes, the demonized fisherman scratched his head awkwardly.

Um, I don't think I have a Blood Demon Art.

The moment he finished speaking, the demonized fisherman was instantly riddled with holes, every cell in his body rupturing as he died.

Looking at the demonized fishermen lying on the ground in pieces, killed by his own hand, Muzan's expression twisted grotesquely.

The plan had failed. He could only deal with that matter first.

He punched a boulder apart and spoke through gritted teeth.

Once that matter was handled, it would be enough to wipe out the Demon Slayer Corps!

Beside him, Kokushibo also struggled to suppress his laughter.

Seeing Muzan being so serious, he solemnly nodded as well, indicating that he would stand with Muzan.

Scribe, just you wait!

Muzan's powerless, furious roar echoed through the empty cave.

Achoo.

After sneezing, Scribe wiped his nose.

Hearing the sneeze, Tamayo quickly turned her head and asked.

What's wrong? Did you catch a cold?

Gesturing for her not to worry, Scribe replied.

Maybe someone misses me and wants me to go play with them.

Tamayo merely smiled faintly and said nothing.