Muzan was furious, and the consequences were dire

Deep within the bustling district of Asakusa stood an exquisitely decorated Western-Style Mansion.

The air was so cold it seemed frozen solid. No fire burned in the fireplace, and the ornate curtains were drawn tight, shutting out every trace of light and sound from outside.

Muzan Kibutsuji sat in a high-backed chair, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His bearing was elegant, his handsome face like a finely sculpted work of art. Yet his magnificent, fathomless ruby eyes seethed with brutality and malice enough to freeze the soul.

His slender, pale fingers tapped unconsciously against the smooth armrest, producing a monotonous, unnerving tap, tap.

Just a few days earlier, he had sensed it clearly-

The blood line he had personally bestowed upon Lower Rank Four, Koyuki, had snapped.

It had not been the slow death of burning beneath sunlight. An overwhelmingly forceful, frigid power had severed, crushed, and annihilated it in mere moments!

"Worthless..."

A voice devoid of any warmth escaped his thin lips, breaking the room's deathly silence.

There was no regret in that voice, only the pure fury of wounded pride and utter contempt.

"The Lower Ranks... worthless, every last one."

Muzan slowly rose and walked toward the enormous floor-to-ceiling window. Though the curtains were tightly shut, his gaze seemed to pierce the heavy fabric and behold the mundane world outside, a world he loathed yet had to inhabit for now.

"Koyuki... that coward who only knew how to hide in the shadows and launch underhanded sneak attacks..."

His lips curved into a cruel, mocking smile.

"It seems the Demon Slayer Corps... or rather, that 'Outsider' who suddenly appeared, does have some ability."

He recalled the hazy information recently relayed through the eyes of other demons-

The Hand Demon on Mount Fujikasane had been slain by a mysterious figure, and Koyuki on Sunshine Mountain had encountered the same power. That power... cold, ancient, and carrying an intensely disagreeable aura that did not belong to this world.

"Hmph."

Muzan snorted coldly, his irritation deepening.

The death of a Lower Rank meant no more to him than crushing an ant. But having the same being slay his creations one after another was an unmistakable challenge to his authority!

Disappointment, anger, and the irritation of being disturbed tangled together. He needed an outlet.

"I'll take a walk."

Muzan's voice regained its customary elegance, tinged with languor, but the chill in his eyes did not diminish. He needed to leave this suffocating room for a while and venture into that noisy place outside, brimming with vibrant life...

Perhaps he could find a little twisted pleasure there, or... a suitable target for his frustrations.

He elegantly adjusted his cuffs, pushed open the closed door, and stepped into Asakusa's bustling night.

Lights blazed, and voices filled the air. Muzan Kibutsuji played the role of a distinguished human to perfection, carefully maintaining the illusion of a "human husband and father."

Holding the hand of his "wife," who believed she had a perfect family, and carrying his innocent "daughter," he strolled beneath the brilliant lights.

This false tranquility was part of his twisted game.

His handsome appearance and elegant manner drew many eyes, but the invisible aura around him, which inspired instinctive fear and unease, made passersby unconsciously keep their distance.

He enjoyed the feeling of looking down upon all living things. Watching those antlike mortals bustle about, rejoicing and grieving over trivial matters, filled him with a twisted sense of superiority. Yet that fleeting "pleasure" was soon shattered by an exceedingly faint but strangely familiar scent.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Muzan stopped abruptly, his scarlet pupils contracting! He whipped his head around, his gaze like a poisoned arrow-

A boy carrying a wooden box, wearing a checkered haori, with a flame-shaped mark on his forehead.

Muzan's handsome face contorted at once. Overwhelming killing intent gathered around him like a tangible black storm!

He nearly struck then and there, ready to crush this irritating insect along with his malformed sister!

Yet as Muzan's icy gaze swept over him, he clearly saw Tanjiro forcibly halt his raised Nichirin Blade upon noticing the two entirely human figures beside Muzan-his "wife and daughter"-and saw the anguish and conflict on the boy's face-

What surged within Muzan was not mercy, but murderous fury at this tremendous offense and the profound humiliation of receiving pity from the weak!

This insect dared indulge in pointless compassion for "humans" while confronting him?!

Muzan's patience ran out instantly.

Reveal his identity? It was not worth it at the moment. He had a more efficient way to create chaos, escape, and savor his opponent's suffering.

With an elegant, merciless flick of his slender fingers, hidden from everyone else's view, a drop of blood bearing an unparalleled curse and twisted power shot precisely into a passerby's neck.

He watched the passerby writhe and swell amid despairing screams, instantly transforming into a ferocious, mindless, man-eating demon. He watched the surrounding "mortals" scatter in terror like ants-

Not a ripple crossed Muzan's handsome face. There was only icy indifference.

Chaos made an excellent curtain. He did not spare another glance at his "wife and daughter," who had fallen into panic at the sudden turn of events. Their value had already dropped to nothing. Amid the surging, chaotic crowd, Muzan's figure dissolved silently into the shadows of a neon-lit street corner, like ink dripping into water.

He left behind both his bitterly regretful enemy and the tragedy he had created with his own hands.

Neither the chaos he had personally orchestrated on Asakusa's streets nor the hatred burning in the eyes of that insect named Tanjiro Kamado stirred the slightest ripple in Muzan Kibutsuji's heart.

To him, it was merely an insignificant episode in his long existence, the dying struggle of an irritating ant. He had coldly abandoned that useless "wife and daughter" like two toys that had lost their value. His figure merged with the darkness, and in an instant he returned to his absolute domain within the gaps of space-the Infinity Castle.

As he sat upon his throne in the warped, silent Infinity Castle, an exceedingly rare emotion called "irritation" quietly coiled around his heart like an icy venomous snake.

Koyuki was dead.

That worthless creature, cowardly though she was, had at least borne the title of "Lower Rank Four" and received his power. Yet in a place like Sunshine Mountain, an Outsider of unknown origins had actually slain her with the power of frost!

Then, in Asakusa, some brat from the Demon Slayer Corps had challenged him in the middle of the street!

One after another!

Ants kept crawling out, trying to challenge his authority and interfere with his eternal plans!

The Lower Ranks' incompetence, the Outsider's interference, the Demon Slayer Corps' relentless pestering...

These blemishes upon existence made Muzan, who pursued "perfection" and "eternity," feel more... displeased than ever before!

Icy killing intent spread through the silent Infinity Castle like a tangible tide.

Sensing her master's displeasure, Nakime silently knelt in the shadows.

"Nakime."

Muzan's voice held not a trace of warmth, like ice scraping against ice.

"Summon the Lower Ranks, except... the one on Spider Mountain."

"Yes."

Nakime's low reply rang out, and her fingertips plucked the strings of her biwa.

Twang-!

The eerie sound of the biwa echoed through the Infinity Castle's warped space.

The next instant, several figures appeared amid ripples in space, landing awkwardly upon the cold floor.

Lower Rank One, Enmu, wore a sickly smile, but a barely perceptible flicker of alarm lingered in his eyes.

Lower Rank Two, Rokuro, trembled slightly, his massive single eye filled with terror.

Lower Rank Three, Byōga, hunched over and coughed incessantly, his eyes steeped in despair.

Lower Rank Six, Kamanué, crouched like a startled beast, uneasy growls rising from his throat.

They felt the terrifying pressure from the throne, as though the heavens were collapsing, and its boundless killing intent! That aura was far more frightening than death itself!

"Over a hundred years..."

Muzan began slowly, his voice seeming to rise from the deepest pits of hell.

"For over a hundred years, have you so-called 'Lower Rank Moons' ever brought me a single accomplishment worthy of praise?"

His gaze swept across the trembling demons below like an icy probe.

"Beyond wasting resources, beyond being cut down by the Demon Slayer Corps' Hashira as easily as vegetables on a chopping board... what purpose does your existence serve?"

Muzan slowly rose, looking down upon them from above. His handsome face held only frozen indifference and utter contempt.

"The Twelve Kizuki... the very existence of the Lower Ranks is a disgrace. Your power, your lives-all were bestowed by me. And now..."

He slowly raised his hand, his pale fingers pointing elegantly toward them. "Your incompetence has begun to bore me."