"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"I don't know!"
"I don't know!"
"AAAAAHHHH!"
The Demon's head, pinned to the ground by half a kitchen knife, howled madly. The name "Muzan Kibutsuji" was like a curse, a spell etched into every Demon's genes.
Just hearing that name was enough to drive it insane. It no longer wanted to eat the human before it. It only wanted to live.
Tendo Hiruma shook his head and sighed helplessly. Look how badly he'd scared the poor thing. It needed to learn what real fear was.
"Hey, hey, hey!"
He slapped the Demon's head several times in a row, barely managing to calm it down.
The Demon stared blankly, its entire head trembling. This guy wasn't human. He was a devil, a monster.
Hiruma took a paper packet from his clothes. As he opened it, he muttered to himself:
"Let's talk about your boss!"
"Like where it's living these days."
"Otherwise, I can only help stop your bleeding!"
As he spoke, Tendo Hiruma unfolded the packet in his hand, revealing fragrant purple powder.
"This is Wisteria Flower powder. Want some? Stops bleeding fast!"
A harmless smile hung on his face, but to the Demon, he looked like the devil himself. It was truly terrifying.
"Devil, you monster!"
"Stay away from me!"
"AAAAAHHHH!"
The Demon's face twisted as it shook its head like mad.
Hiruma gripped the Demon's face and forced its mouth open. "The ordinary people you killed were just as scared as you before they died, weren't they?"
"They were innocent. That's why I say Demons really are such disgusting creatures."
As a transmigrator, Hiruma despised ninety-nine percent of Demons deep down. Not only because he stood on the side of humans, but because he hated how they slaughtered innocents.
With that, he stuffed the Wisteria Flower powder into the Demon's mouth.
To ordinary people, Wisteria Flowers were merely beautiful blooms. But to Demons, they were deadly poison.
Hiruma pulled out the half-kitchen knife. The Demon's head began convulsing, its surface covered in purple blood blisters as it writhed in extreme agony.
The moment it killed its first person, it should have known that one day, it too would be killed.
Bang!
With a loud explosion, the Demon's head became a puddle of purplish-red blood. Not far away lay a headless corpse, and the headless body continued to twitch as though it were still alive.
Once the sun rose, everything would vanish into nothing.
Warm sunlight nourished all living things, except Demons.
Tendo Hiruma hoisted the bag of rice over one shoulder and strolled toward Peach Mountain, humming a cheerful tune.
"Heading home!"
The bright moon hung in the distance like a clear spring suspended at the edge of the sky, its waterfall-like light flowing through the lush peach grove.
Before the small wooden cabin, Kuwajima Jigoro sat by the door, muttering harsh words.
"That brat only knows how to fool around. I'm definitely giving him a beating!"
"What time is it? He doesn't even know to come home, does he?"
"He's really going to make me mad!"
Behind his angry face was a pair of worried eyes, just like those of elders concerned for children who had gone out.
"Where's my sword?"
Jigoro Kuwajima grumbled as he searched for his wooden sword. Suddenly, a small figure appeared at the far end of the peach grove.
"Old man, I'm back!"
"Just so you know, there's a reason my clothes got damaged!"
At that, the old man abruptly raised his head. He wanted to rush over and hug his disciple, but his pride wouldn't allow it. In the end, all he could offer was a reproach tinged with concern.
"You brat, where have you been messing around this time?"
"Just wait and see if I beat you!"
With that, the old man picked up his wooden sword and walked over.
He noticed bloodstains on Tendo Hiruma's chest and claw marks on his clothes, and immediately understood everything.
"You encountered one of those things!"
"Yeah. It did this to my clothes, so I killed it!"
In an instant, all reproach and anger vanished. For the first time ever, the old man rubbed his disciple's head. A hint of pride colored his voice as he said:
"Well done. As expected of my disciple!"
Then his tone shifted as he earnestly reminded him, "Remember, safety comes first!"
Hiruma smiled and bragged, "I'm this strong. There's nothing to worry about!"
"Keep bragging!"
The old man gave his foolish disciple a smack and urged him to go to bed.
In the middle of the night, Hiruma was already snoring soundly, while the old man was still in his room mending clothes, his movements awkward.
"This needlework is harder than cutting down the Twelve Kizuki. I should find time to go into town and get that brat a few more sets of clothes."
The old man grumbled. Needlework really wasn't something a grown man like him could handle.
At daybreak, Hiruma was still snoring soundly, while the old man had risen early to cook.
Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing and fixed a sharp gaze on the distant peach grove.
A tall figure emerged from the grove, and Jigoro Kuwajima could not help but feel puzzled.
Few people ever visited Peach Mountain. Even the disciples he trained had been personally selected by him.
Sensing no killing intent from the figure, the old man wiped his hands and quickly stepped out of the kitchen.
Just then, the first ray of dawn pierced through layers of clouds and mist, like a giant golden hand gently stroking Peach Mountain's hillside.
From above, Peach Mountain resembled an enormous painting. Its lower half was shrouded in golden radiance, dazzlingly bright, while its upper half lay immersed in faint black shadow, mysterious and profound.
The unfamiliar figure stood at the boundary between light and darkness, wearing a smile even more dazzling than the sun.
Only when the man came closer did the old man see his appearance clearly.
He had long yellow hair with red tips, like dancing flames. Beneath his thick black sword-like brows were bright, spirited eyes.
Over his brown Demon Slayer Corps uniform, he wore a white haori patterned with flames along its hem.
Just one look at him was enough to make someone catch his cheerful, blazing spirit.
What a powerful presence. This man was a Pillar.
As one of the Demon Slayer Corps' older generation of Pillars, he recognized the man's identity at once. The current Flame Pillar, named Rengoku... Rengoku what again?
He had lived in seclusion for too long. Jigoro Kuwajima couldn't remember.
Just then, a bold, resounding voice rang out. The fiery man bowed politely and said:
"Senior Kuwajima, I am Rengoku Shinjuro!"
"The current Flame Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps has come to visit you!"
"Oh!" Jigoro Kuwajima suddenly remembered. The last time he had seen this kid, he had still been wearing split-crotch pants. "You've grown so much!"
"I even held you when you were little."
The previous Flame Pillar had been a close friend of Jigoro Kuwajima. He had visited the man's home before, but sadly, they had not met in a long time.
Moreover, after Jigoro Kuwajima retired into seclusion because of his injured leg, he had rarely kept in touch with the outside world. He truly had not expected his old friend's son to suddenly come visit.
"Kid, come in and sit down. Want some breakfast?"
"Then thank you, Senior Kuwajima!"
Before you continue