Judging by the original story's setting, it seemed more like a "disease" that let people overdraw their own life force-and a contagious one at that.
But it also seemed like a remnant of the world's supernatural power aimed at demons. Muzan felt that the world of Demon Slayer was scientific, yet not entirely so.
Rather than some grand conspiracy, it seemed more like different worlds operating under different rules.
Like Newton's laws, it was a rule that could be studied further, but was already an established law.
The demons under his command certainly wouldn't draw too much hatred his way anymore. Still, to keep Yoriichi from actually putting him down, or avoid reaching a game over at the story's finale, Muzan needed to prepare thoroughly.
Demons survived by eating humans. That alone locked demons and humans into opposing sides.
Under its curse, the Ubuyashiki family would also oppose him forever.
And was there such a thing as the power of the plot?
Would he have to fight against it like those transmigrators who had come before him?
After spending an entire day lost in wild speculation, Muzan suddenly turned to Jiyuki. "Let's go find Tamayo!"
Jiyuki: "???"
He had been watching his boss frown in thought and scratch his head now and then. At this sudden declaration, confusion filled his face.
Who was Tamayo? Why did they need to find her?
Muzan stood up and looked at the night sky, where a crescent moon had already risen. "Let's go!"
Whatever happened, he had to win Tamayo over first!
She was the best support character in the original story, with incredibly strong medical skills, which meant she was a quick learner too. Give her time and let her do research, and perhaps she could resolve his questions.
Yoriichi, the Head Pillar, and adorable little Nezuko all needed special attention.
As he traveled through the darkness, he instructed the demons under him to keep an eye out for Tamayo and report to him if they found her.
Finding Tamayo couldn't be rushed. He should do something else first-improve his strength.
Muzan took Jiyuki to a martial arts school.
All fear stemmed from insufficient "firepower." With Yoriichi weighing on his mind, he didn't dare relax.
Things like the Demon Slayer Mark and the Transparent World from the original story would have to come gradually. They depended on opportunities and required him to push past his limits. With his current strength, that was incredibly difficult. Who else could even hurt him?
But he could learn some techniques!
Ordinary humans could train to kill demons. As the Demon King, what heights could he reach if he spent hundreds of years learning swordsmanship and combat techniques, constantly honing himself?
Perhaps the school's master genuinely knew his stuff. When the two arrived at his door just after dark to ask for instruction, he instinctively felt they were up to no good, though he couldn't explain why, and refused to teach them.
But under Muzan's financial offensive, the master eventually agreed.
The master led them inside. Though he hadn't resisted the temptation of such a generous payment, he was still uneasy and asked solemnly once more:
"Can you truly promise me that you won't use what you learn here to do evil?"
Seeing how serious he was, Muzan dropped his playful grin and promised, "Don't worry. Absolutely not!"
The master then looked at Jiyuki. "And you?"
Jiyuki glanced at Muzan before nodding as well.
The master sighed, walked over to a rack by the wall, and picked up two wooden swords, solemnly placing them before the two men.
"The Leaking Shadow Sword Style focuses on offense. Ordinary people must temper their hearts before learning it. The moment you pick up these wooden swords, I become your teacher. But I need to know why you wish to learn swordsmanship."
Muzan answered without hesitation, "To protect myself!"
Those words were entirely sincere, without the slightest hint of a lie.
The master hadn't expected Muzan to answer without any hesitation, much less look so genuinely heartfelt.
And his reason was perfectly sensible. In these increasingly chaotic times, when even man-eating demons roamed unchecked, learning swordsmanship to protect oneself was quite normal.
It wasn't particularly lofty, but it was practical.
He turned to Jiyuki again. "And you?"
Jiyuki looked rather awkward. A few seconds later, he scratched his head. "Honestly, I don't really want to learn. I'm just here to keep my boss company."
Muzan gave Jiyuki a sidelong look. Why were you suddenly so honest?
Through his connection to demons, he secretly told him, "If you don't want to learn, hurry up and get lost!"
The master's expression also seemed to sour at Jiyuki's words. So you're reluctant to learn my swordsmanship, are you?!
Jiyuki sheepishly rubbed his nose and hurried away under Muzan's and the master's unfriendly gazes.
"Sorry. He's... a bit dim."
After that, Muzan spent every day at the school following the master's regimen. It began with some absurd exercises to "temper the heart." As long as they didn't involve standing in the sun, Muzan completed them all without fuss.
Although the master found it strange that Muzan had a "skin condition" that prevented him from going out in the sun, he was very pleased with his steady mindset and gentle temperament.
He became increasingly convinced that his impression that day had been nothing more than a mistake.
Then Muzan began his formal training. From basic drills to sword forms and techniques, everything flowed effortlessly. The master was both astonished by Muzan's powerful physique and delighted by his extraordinary talent.
The school's other students also noticed their new "junior brother," a swordsmanship prodigy.
And a rich one at that.
He was friendly and mild-mannered, never arrogant about his talent, and even helped guide the others from time to time.
This earned Muzan an excellent reputation at the school, but it also began to wear on his patience. Young girls experiencing their first stirrings of affection were always coming to watch him. That was no big deal-being watched wouldn't cost him anything. But his fellow students, who constantly sought his advice, kept interrupting him.
So damn annoying!
Some even had their eyes on his money. Never overestimate how low people could sink; there were always those who used guilt trips to squeeze petty benefits out of others.
The final straw came one night. Muzan had just finished dealing with his fellow students' questions when someone told him his teacher was waiting for him in the woods behind the school.
When Muzan went over, puzzled, he discovered he had been tricked. It wasn't his teacher who had summoned him, but a "challenger."
Jing San, who studied at the same school.
Muzan had noticed him before, since Jing San would occasionally look at him with resentment-filled eyes. But Muzan hadn't paid him much mind. He was only here to learn swordsmanship.
With his unlimited lifespan, he couldn't be bothered to care about a weakling who would live for only a few decades.
But being tricked into coming here only worsened his mood, which was already foul after being pestered with endless questions.
Jing San gripped the sword at his waist with one hand and glared at Muzan through gritted teeth.
"I challenge you!"
A wooden sword hung at Muzan's waist, and his expression was somewhat dark. "Not in the mood."
Out of respect for the master, Muzan still didn't want to kill him.
But Jing San clearly didn't realize Muzan was giving him a chance to live. Seeing his attitude, he felt he was being looked down on and roared in anger:
"Who do you think you are?!"
Muzan frowned, his grim expression making Jing San shiver instinctively. Jing San hurriedly drew the steel sword at his waist with a clang. Seeing the wooden sword at Muzan's waist gave him a little more confidence.
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