Who gave them the nerve?

Muzan shook his head. "Right now, I just want to help you. Maybe I'll need your help someday."

Hakuji froze for a moment. "Why..."

Muzan looked at him in puzzlement.

Hakuji raised his head to look at Muzan and repeated, "Why are you helping me?"

Muzan patted his head. "Because I want to. I'll bring the medicinal herbs tomorrow. Make sure you take good care of your father tonight."

Muzan smiled as he stroked his head.

Hey!

Little Hakuji's head felt pretty nice to pat, too!

"Thank you!"

Hakuji watched Muzan walk farther and farther away, then shouted after him.

He had no idea whether Muzan heard him.

Muzan had the demons under him buy the medicinal herbs he needed, then browsed a few shops and bought some clothes, snacks, and other things.

After getting everything ready in the morning, he bought some breakfast, packed it up, and brought it over.

Standing outside Hakuji's house, Muzan knocked on the door.

Hakuji had gotten up early and already made breakfast, but because they were poor, it was only some rice soup-or, more accurately, water used to boil rice. A few wild greens on the side completed their breakfast.

Hearing Muzan knock, Hakuji, who had been waiting for ages, excitedly ran to open the door.

Seeing Muzan standing at the door with a large bundle of things, he felt hope rise in his heart.

Then he caught sight of the bag of food in Muzan's other hand. As its aroma reached him, Hakuji couldn't help swallowing.

Muzan smiled at the sight.

He entered the house, set the fragrant breakfast on the floor, opened the bundle, and took out the medicinal herbs he had prepared. Then he looked at Hakuji. "Where's the kitchen?"

Though Hakuji eyed the bundle full of food and clothes with longing and confusion, he didn't dare touch anything. He led Muzan to the kitchen.

Muzan looked around, then began brewing the medicine.

With the medicine simmering in the kitchen, Muzan saw Hakuji gazing hungrily at the breakfast he had bought without daring to touch it. He walked over, opened one package, and held it out to him.

"Want a taste?"

Hakuji looked at the steaming, fragrant rice, topped with meat, sauce, and vegetables he had never tried before. Then he looked up at Muzan's smiling face. "Is this really for me?"

"Of course. Go ahead."

"Thank you. Can I let my father have a few bites?"

Hakuji accepted the food, but instead of giving in and eating immediately, he asked Muzan.

"I brought a portion for your father, too." As he spoke, Muzan unwrapped another steaming breakfast package, along with a sealed container of hot porridge.

"Your father's sick, so this food isn't suitable for him. This portion will be easier to digest."

"Thank you."

By the time breakfast was finished, the medicine was ready too. Muzan watched Hakuji bring it to his father and wait for him to drink it, then go wash the bowls and cooking utensils.

Hakuji's father watched his son bustle about, then turned toward the kind man sitting on the tatami. Forcing himself upright, he knelt before Muzan.

"Thank you!"

Muzan didn't stop him. Letting him do this would help him feel more comfortable accepting the help.

He waved a hand. "It's nothing. I'm just lending you a hand. Go lie back down."

Once Hakuji finished cleaning the kitchen, Muzan took the clothes and snacks out of the bundle and set them in front of him.

"These clothes are for you and your father. Don't steal anymore. Your father wouldn't want to survive by taking other people's money, either, would he?"

Hakuji lowered his head.

He was deeply grateful, yet he felt that a sinner like him didn't deserve any of this.

Muzan wasn't going to offer any inspirational platitudes. Someone else would heal him someday.

He didn't need to worry about that.

Over the next few days, Muzan stayed there, brewing medicine every day and occasionally slipping in a discreet dose of healing for Hakuji's father.

As for their daily meals, Hakuji used Muzan's money to buy food or ingredients to cook himself.

There was no way Muzan was going to cook!

A month later, Hakuji's father's condition had improved, and he grew healthier by the day. By now, he rarely suffered bouts of constant coughing anymore.

Hakuji had also grown used to Muzan's presence.

He spent his days buying groceries, cooking, and tidying up. Watching his father get better and better, he felt there was hope in life again.

A year flew by, and his father's illness was finally cured.

After eating the breakfast Hakuji had made, Muzan watched Hakuji's father begin getting ready to look for work, then addressed them both.

"Your illness is cured, so it's time for me to leave. This money should help tide you over for a while."

Hakuji, who had been about to clear the table, froze. "You're leaving...?"

Muzan smiled and patted his head. "We'll meet again. Who knows? I might even need your help with something. Make sure you work hard."

"Yes!"

Hakuji nodded firmly.

But sadness still filled most of his heart. He didn't think someone like him could help Muzan, and he felt even more strongly that he didn't deserve the kindness Muzan had shown him over the past year.

He was also deeply grateful for Muzan's help.

Hearing this, Hakuji's father hurried over and dropped to his knees.

Muzan didn't know whether Hakuji would still meet Koyuki afterward.

But he had a feeling that the faint, elusive force of the plot might bring them together.

None of that mattered now, though.

What mattered was that those people in the Demon Slayer Corps had finally found Muzan's home.

That day, as soon as Muzan returned home, he noticed a ring of people surrounding his front door. His house was full of people too, all wearing Demon Slayer Corps uniforms!

Nope. My head hurts...

The nearby residents had already been evacuated.

Muzan really couldn't bear to abandon the books and collectibles he had accumulated over decades, even a century, and briefly agonized over whether to simply run away.

In the end, he chose to face them head-on.

What a joke!

He was Muzan Kibutsuji, the Demon King!

How could a bunch of Demon Slayers scare him off?

Besides, now that he couldn't be killed, why should he be afraid of them?

Just fight!

Even Yoriichi was a demon now. Who else could possibly match him?

The Demon Slayers were startled by Muzan's sudden appearance. They hurriedly drew the Nichirin Blades at their waists and charged without a word.

Muzan immediately sent all his whip-like appendages shooting out.

Ordinary Demon Slayer Corps members couldn't even get close. The shock waves from the battle injured anyone who approached, while the Hashira-level Demon Slayers could, at most, hold him up. They couldn't hurt him at all.

What a joke. Even the strongest fighter couldn't do any real damage to him, and these weaklings thought they could hurt him?

Muzan handled them with ease and didn't deal them any vicious blows.

The four Hashira-level Demon Slayers felt as though Muzan was toying with them like a cat with mice. Even attacks made with every ounce of their strength couldn't hurt him!

Muzan's combat strength had already surpassed his strength in the original story. Besides, who knew how many layers of debuffs had been piled onto him before he could be defeated in the original? This Muzan was in peak condition!

He simply wasn't someone ordinary humans could handle!

Muzan couldn't understand who had given the Ubuyashiki the nerve to come provoke him just because they had found his address.

The current Oyakata-sama of the Demon Slayer Corps really wasn't up to the job!