Clearly, Jing San intended to do more than challenge him. By calling him out to a secluded grove with a sharpened steel sword in hand, he had already made up his mind to kill him.
Muzan did not draw his sword. Instead, he suddenly smiled.
"I'd like to know why you want to take my life."
"Heh, heh, heh..." Jing San sneered. "I can't stand the sight of you! It's all your fault! Master was about to leave the dojo to me! Even Sakura likes you! Why?!
"Just because you're good-looking?! Who do you think you are, putting on airs all day?! If it weren't for you, I'd still be the most popular person in the dojo! It's all your fault!
"Ever since you showed up, I've had nothing left!"
His face grew increasingly twisted with jealousy and resentment, his voice shrill and menacing. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!!!"
"So that's it..."
Muzan nodded. So the dojo master had been planning to leave the dojo to him, too?
Muzan stepped a little closer, utterly unconcerned by the blade pointed at him. Looking at Jing San's hate-twisted face and trembling arms, he smiled.
"Then do you want to know why I'm so talented?"
Muzan's indifference left Jing San unnerved, and he instinctively took half a step back. Realizing he had shown weakness, he flew into a humiliated rage and lunged forward.
"Why?!"
Muzan grinned. Beneath the moonlight, two sharp fangs emerged, and he no longer concealed his scarlet eyes.
"Because I'm a demon!"
Gulp...
In that instant, every thought Jing San had vanished, and terror filled his mind.
"A demon..."
He screamed and turned to flee, but the instant he made a sound, a giant maw shot toward him and swallowed him whole.
A few spine-chilling crunches sounded especially horrifying in the silent grove. Muzan was just about to return his arm to normal when a blade gleaming with cold light suddenly slashed toward him.
Clang!
The sword struck Muzan's monstrous arm, only to ring out as though it had hit something solid.
His attacker withdrew his sword and backed away. Muzan's arm returned to normal, and he turned to look at the man who had attacked him-the dojo master.
An apologetic smile appeared on his face. "I hadn't wanted you to see that."
The dojo master's expression was grim and furious. "My swordsmanship isn't meant for demons!"
With that, he swung his sword at Muzan, even knowing how powerful this demon was, even knowing he might be devoured.
Muzan took a step back, then sprang off his toes and leaped backward onto a high branch, looking down at the dojo master.
"Don't worry. I won't go back on my promise to you."
As an ordinary human, the dojo master had no way to pursue Muzan. He could only roar from the ground.
"You told me you wanted to protect yourself!!!"
Muzan pursed his lips. "In a hundred years, someone will be able to kill me. But you probably won't live to see it."
"Oh, and tonight, Muzan and Jing San were both killed by a demon during their duel. Don't go thinking about committing seppuku, or else..."
Before he finished speaking, Muzan vanished into the night.
The dojo master stared at the empty night sky, seemingly having made a decision...
After leaving under cover of darkness, Muzan found another dojo.
This time, however, after becoming a disciple, Muzan kept a cold expression throughout. With the faint oppressive aura of the Demon King, he successfully kept everyone at arm's length.
He left as soon as he finished learning. Everything went remarkably smoothly.
Time flew by. After visiting who knew how many dojos, Muzan had learned swordsmanship, fist techniques, hand-to-hand combat, archery, hidden weapons...
On another night, Muzan watched the last of his senior fellow disciples leave the dojo. Since he lived there, he helped the dojo master tidy up the training area, then continued practicing karate as the dojo master went off to rest with a satisfied expression.
The dojo master's daughter, still a little child, sat by the window with her head propped on her hands, watching Muzan practice. The dojo master ruffled her hair and carried her away.
Muzan had grown rather fond of this life, too.
As he practiced, he suddenly noticed that one of the demons under his command seemed to be trying to contact him.
Muzan stopped what he was doing and discovered that Tamayo had been found!
Before the dojo master had left, Muzan hurried after him. "Master, I may need to leave the dojo."
Holding his daughter with one arm, the dojo master turned to Muzan, his eyes seeming to ask what was wrong.
"I have something to take care of."
Seeing that he seemed unwilling to elaborate, the dojo master smiled. "Go on, then. It's dangerous at night, so be careful."
"All right."
Muzan nodded, changed his clothes, and bid the dojo master farewell.
After all this time, he had finally found a key character from Demon Slayer!
What would Tamayo be like in real life?
The night was deep, a full moon hanging high in the sky as a dark silhouette flashed past.
Muzan's figure darted through the night before finally landing lightly on the roof of a wooden house. Across from him stood the house where Tamayo lived, the one his subordinate had found.
A faint candlelight glowed inside the house. A figure sat by the window, head lowered, busy with something he could not make out.
Muzan studied the figure. That should be Tamayo.
He leaped down and landed lightly on the ground. His undisguised footsteps drew the attention of the person inside, and through the paper window, he saw her raise her head.
Hearing the approaching footsteps, Tamayo grew even more worried, her face already troubled by the knowledge that she did not have long to live. With slow, feeble movements, she opened the window a crack, only to find no one outside.
Puzzled, Tamayo closed the window. Was I so ill that I was starting to hear things?
Muzan had already landed on a rooftop farther away.
It was not time yet.
The best opportunity to turn Tamayo into a demon would come when she was close to death.
Otherwise, he would most likely have to resort to force, and that would only backfire.
Tamayo already had little time left. Even opening a window had been that difficult for her. Staying awake at night was also her way of racing against time to find a means of surviving.
Having confirmed her condition, Muzan settled down nearby.
He wanted to know just what the hell a Blood Demon Art was.
And since they arose from his blood, could he use the Blood Demon Arts of the demons under his command?
Muzan's control over demons extended from their thoughts to their bodies. He carefully sensed how one of his subordinates used a Blood Demon Art, then copied it, raising his hand toward a teapot.
He clenched his hand.
Crack!
The teapot shattered, spilling tea across the table and down onto the floor.
Nice!
A delighted smile appeared on Muzan's face. It really worked!
Who cared how Blood Demon Arts worked, as long as they were useful!
But Blood Demon Arts had to originate from demons. Only once a demon under his command possessed a particular Blood Demon Art could he possess it, too.
Still, that was enough.
More than ten days later, Muzan overheard people nearby talking. It seemed Tamayo was about to die.
They sounded regretful, too. After all, Tamayo was a renowned physician in the area who had cured many people. For her to die so young was as though heaven itself envied her talent.
That night, when Muzan approached Tamayo's home, he could sense that her presence was frighteningly faint. She seemed liable to kick the bucket at any moment.
Muzan walked up and knocked on the door.
The person who opened it was a man-Tamayo's husband.
"Hello."
Muzan stood outside the door and smiled.
Tamayo's husband looked at Muzan in puzzlement. "Hello. Can I help you?"
Before you continue