Fifteen years ago, a soul that did not belong to this era crashed into the body of a crying infant, and Dongfang Qiubai became Kirishima Bupai. (PS: This is an anime crossover, and one more thing: ratings only appeared after 280,000 characters. When they finally came out, it was a 5.9. Alice is already feeling emo...)
"Wait, I transmigrated!? I actually fucking died from taking Viagra!!"
The first things he saw when he opened his eyes were two wrinkle-covered faces-his seventy-year-old father, the head of the Kirishima Family, and his sixty-year-old mother, who had just endured the agony of childbirth.
From that moment on, Kirishima Bupai became the precious jewel the entire Kirishima Family cradled in their hands.
Fine clothes and lavish meals went without saying. Even when he walked, someone carefully guarded him, terrified that the family's sole heir might suffer the slightest mishap.
But no one knew that just days after this "precious jewel" was born, a cold voice appeared in his mind.
[Strongest Swordsmanship System successfully bound. Loading Vergil template...]
For fifteen years, he used "I have depression" as an excuse to shut himself away in his courtyard and undergo the system's hellish training.
Others thought the young master was perpetually bedridden. Little did they know that he had forged a body of steel through countless sword swings, engraving the essence of Vergil's swordsmanship into his bones through deadly battles against creatures from the demon world summoned by the system.
Now, with his sword sheathed, Kirishima Bupai was the heir the Kirishima Family guarded with painstaking care. Once his sword left its sheath, he was a being who would make even the Twelve Kizuki and the Demon King Muzan tremble.
Whoosh-!
Rain poured down in torrents, fat droplets striking the flagstone road and splashing up in sheets.
Lightning tore through the pitch-black night, illuminating it again and again. Thunder boomed like a colossal beast roaring above the clouds, shrouding the entire world in a frenzy of noise.
A black figure flitted like a phantom across the rooftops.
Kirishima Bupai's black trench coat snapped in the fierce wind. Its rain-soaked hem clung tightly behind him, but did nothing to impede his swift movements.
His slicked-back silver-white hair was already drenched, a few wet strands plastered to his forehead, yet his sharp eyes shone startlingly bright in the dim light.
Behind him, dozens of black-robed ninja pursued him with all their strength, pushing off with their toes as they leaped and darted between rooftops.
Rain dripped down their masks, tracing the contours of faces filled with anxiety and fear.
"Young master! Please come back!"
"The family head said that as long as you come back, everything is open to discussion!"
"Madam specially made your favorite braised chicken wings and roast duck! They'll get cold if you don't eat them soon!"
The wind and rain tore their cries to shreds, yet those voices continued to follow close behind Kirishima Bupai.
Despair filled the ninja's hearts. The family head's almost crazed command still echoed in their ears.
-"If the young master suffers the slightest mishap, every one of you will atone with your lives!"
The Kirishima Family's influence ran deep and wide, and its head never spoke in jest. If something truly happened to the young master, none of them-or their families-would escape death.
Yet even after pushing every skill they had learned in their lives to its limit, they kept falling farther behind the black figure ahead.
Someone gritted his teeth and pulled a messenger pigeon from inside his clothes, releasing it with trembling hands. The pigeon flapped its wings and vanished deep into the curtain of rain, carrying a request for reinforcements to a more distant outpost.
Kirishima Bupai turned a deaf ear to the commotion behind him. His father's grief-stricken expression from a few days earlier flashed through his mind.
"Bupai! You're the Kirishima Family's only heir! Do you know what kind of place the Demon Slayer Corps is? It's a killing ground where you gamble with your life!"
"If anything happens to you, what are your mother and I supposed to do? What is the entire Kirishima Family supposed to do?"
In his memory, the old man leaned on his cane, trembling all over with anger, his clouded eyes filled with pleading and resolve.
At the thought, Kirishima Bupai curled his lip. He pushed off hard, shooting out of the city like an arrow loosed from its bow and landing at a crossroads outside it.
He stopped abruptly, turned around, and spread his arms wide to face the raging storm and the lightning ripping through the night sky.
"I am the storm that is approaching-!!!!!!!!!!"
"Awakening the dark clouds within their cage!!!"
His roar mingled with the thunder and echoed across the wilderness, filled with unquestionable dominance and resolve.
Just then, a faint cry for help drifted over on the wind, as thin as a thread, yet it reached Kirishima Bupai's ears with perfect clarity.
His gaze sharpened, and he abruptly vanished from the spot.
A second later, he appeared in a stretch of ravaged woodland.
A tall demon had a young girl by the throat, holding her high in the air. Her face was blue and purple, her limbs struggling in vain, her eyes filled with despair. A perverse smile hung on the demon's face, and the girl's resistance seemed to delight him immensely.
Kirishima Bupai's gaze fell on the demon's pupils. "Lower Rank" in his left eye and "Two" in his right were clearly visible-Lower Rank Two of the Twelve Kizuki!
"Heh." He gave a soft scoff, a chill gradually rising in his eyes.
[Ding-host's daily training task activated: defeat 50 demons.]
The familiar, irritating system notification sounded in his mind.
Almost as soon as the voice fell silent, cracks split the surrounding space like shattered glass, and countless enormous, batlike demons swarmed out through them.
Their scarlet eyes gleamed with greed, and their sharp claws scraped through the air with a piercing noise. A terror originating deep within the soul instantly enveloped the area.
"You shall die!-!!!!!!!!"
Kirishima Bupai gave a low shout, his tone filled with undisguised disdain.
For more than a decade, the system had always "surprised" him this way. He had long since grown used to it.
But things were different now. He had long since undergone a complete transformation.
Never mind these demonic small fry-even if Muzan Kibutsuji stood here, he was confident he could kill him with a single slash!
Cold light flashed as his Nichirin Blade left its sheath.
In an instant, countless invisible slashes appeared out of thin air, weaving together into an impenetrable net of blades.
Space groaned beneath the slashes, unable to bear the strain, then shattered inch by inch.
Amid the roar of shattering space, Kirishima Bupai appeared before Lower Rank Two.
He knelt on one knee and slowly slid his Nichirin Blade back into its sheath.
Clink-
The soft sound of the sword sliding home faded, as though it were some sort of signal.
The next moment, a violent spatial explosion thundered out!
Blood mist sprayed across the sky like a fountain. In that instant, the 50 demons and the insufferably arrogant Lower Rank Two were utterly sliced to dust, leaving not even a trace behind.
[Ding-detected that the host has exceeded all basic training benchmarks. Swordsmanship precision, physical strength, and Vergil template compatibility have all surpassed the breakthrough threshold.] [-Verdict: host has officially graduated.] [From today onward, basic training task mode is disabled. It is time for you to roam this world on your own.]
The girl dropped to the ground with a thud and felt her neck, still shaken.
After discovering she was unharmed, she instinctively touched her hair. Her formerly waist-length hair had been neatly sliced off, leaving it only shoulder-length.
Kirishima Bupai paid this no mind. He did not even glance at the girl before turning to leave.
As the system's notification faded from his mind, the faintest curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
Then he looked up at the thundering sky again and roared, "I need more power!!!!!!!!!!"
As his roar faded, he reached up to straighten his wind-tousled coat collar, rolled his neck, and muttered, "Tsk, the fabric of this new sweater is so damn itchy."
With that, he lingered no longer. In a few bounds, he vanished into the vast curtain of rain, leaving only the shaken girl and the ninja in the distance, still pursuing him in vain.
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