Facing Muzan

Tanjiro's family had been listening intently to Hane's story when the sudden voice drew their attention. All five of them turned toward the doorway.

But when Tanjuro saw Muzan Kibutsuji and his group, his pupils abruptly constricted, and his already frail body immediately broke into violent coughing.

Nezuko hurried over and patted his back.

"Who are you people?!"

A trace of nervousness flashed through Nezuko's eyes. Strangers were rarely seen in the deep mountains, yet people had kept coming to their door today. She could not understand it, and instinctively felt a wave of unease.

Muzan Kibutsuji carefully looked Nezuko over, then gave the still-violently coughing Tanjuro a wicked smile.

"This is your daughter, isn't it? What a gentle and kind girl. Mr. Tanjuro Kamado, descendant of Yoriichi Tsugikuni's legacy, wouldn't you agree?"

Having finally managed to steady his harsh breathing, Tanjuro's pupils trembled. He slowly raised his head and looked at Muzan Kibutsuji.

"This has nothing to do with my family. Can you let them go?"

"Oh... what do you think? As long as you give me what I want, it isn't impossible for me to spare your family!"

Struggle flashed through Tanjuro's eyes, but his gaze soon hardened. Looking at his family, who were watching him with worried expressions, a hint of apology passed through his eyes.

"Kie, Nezuko, Delia, Shigeru... I'm sorry!"

After saying that, Tanjuro deeply lowered his head. He knew that even if he handed over the item today, the monster before him would never spare his family.

Rather than let the monster have its way, he might as well make a desperate gamble.

With that thought, he suddenly grabbed a wooden stick beside the stove and swiftly rose to his feet. A fierce killing intent radiated from him, utterly unlike his previous sickly state.