34 Vol. II Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

(Relax, the Kamado family isn't dying yet.)

The Demon King.

The progenitor of all demons.

Muzan Kibutsuji.

This man, who has plunged the entirety of Tokyo Prefecture—and indeed, all of Japan—into chaos for over a thousand years... what has he done with his interminable existence?

Leather shoes pressed against the soft snow, yet the young man with curled hair left no footprints behind. Muzan strolled leisurely through the night-shrouded forest, retracing the patterns of his ceaseless life.

Search for the Blue Spider Lily.

Turn promising humans into demons and see if they could conquer the sun. If they failed, send them to find the flower for him instead.

Infiltrate human society, amass wealth, build connections, and use them all to hunt for the elusive Blue Spider Lily.

After Yoriichi Tsugikuni's death, Muzan's every action revolved around that single goal—the flower described in the notes of the doctor who turned him into a demon over a millennium ago. The key to walking in the sunlight and becoming the ultimate, perfect being.

Muzan preferred deep, untamed mountains for his endeavors. In these ancient, unexplored realms, miracles seemed more likely to occur—or at least, miracles by his standards.

Tonight, light snow began to fall once more. Muzan emerged from the pine forest and noticed a small, weathered wooden house standing in the desolate mountain wilderness.

Ah, humans.

He approached without a sound. Perhaps a woodsman lived here? It didn't matter. Whoever it was would serve his purpose.

Muzan moved noiselessly, pausing outside the door to glance at the neatly stacked firewood. Then, with a slight push, the wooden door creaked open, snapping the latch.

The noise startled a woman awake. Kie Kamado rubbed her eyes, thinking her eldest son had returned from selling charcoal.

"Tanjiro?"

But instead of her son, she saw a man in a gentleman's hat, his pale face half-lit by the moonlight.

Muzan tilted his head slightly, his blood-red eyes devoid of emotion.

One, two... six people.

Three of them were just old enough to turn. The others were useless. They'd be liabilities as demons, nothing more than easy prey for the Demon Slayers.

When he forced his blood into the woman he deemed most promising, her body rejected it immediately. She died shielding the youngest child behind her—a pointless act of human sentimentality.

Muzan's gaze flicked to the girl she had protected. He needed only a thought, and the little girl's life ended in an instant.

The house erupted into chaos. The older boy was next to fall. One by one, they perished.

Except for her.

The girl in the pink kimono staggered to her feet, blood still staining her lips. She cradled the youngest boy in her arms and made for the door, as if trying to save him.

Muzan's catlike crimson eyes narrowed. How futile.

He killed the boy without hesitation.

"Boring."

Stepping over the unconscious girl, Muzan adjusted his hat. Suddenly, his gaze shifted toward the cliffside.

"Don't go!"

"Stop, Haruto! Please don't go, I'll call you my 'Star Hashira,' just come back! Haruto, no!"

"Why does this always happen?!"

"Who's that? How do you all know who this is?"

"I came back after reading the main story and the spinoffs... Haruto, don't do this! You can't win!"

Haruto ignored the chaos flooding his vision—the endless stream of comments predicting his death. His hands trembled, partly from exhaustion after a full day of travel, partly from the overwhelming dread.

The main story. He had finally reached it.

And it was here that he would die.

No! He wouldn't let it end like this. Not without trying.

The scent of blood wafted through the frigid night air, sharp and suffocating. Even without Tanjiro's keen sense of smell, Haruto couldn't miss it.

Scaling the cliff in great leaps, he spotted the carnage. The Kamado family's wooden house, now a slaughterhouse. And standing amidst the bloodshed, a man in an immaculate suit and embroidered vest, his hat tilted low.

Muzan Kibutsuji.

The Demon King turned, his cold eyes meeting Haruto's. The sheer weight of his presence froze Haruto in place, fear gripping his chest like a vice.

"I've seen you before," Muzan said, his voice calm yet piercing. Then he frowned. "No, not me. They have seen you."

Haruto's gaze darted past Muzan to the bodies strewn across the house—Kie, Takeo, Hanako, Shigeru... even Nezuko and Rokuta.

And Tanjiro?

Where was he?

Despair clawed at Haruto's heart, but he forced himself to focus. The man before him was no ordinary foe. He was the source of everything—the reason for the Kamado family's suffering.

"You're angry," Muzan observed, his tone dispassionate. "Did you know them?" He glanced back at the bodies, shrugging. "They couldn't even withstand a little blood. Hardly worth my time."

Rage boiled within Haruto.

"They were worthless. Fragile creatures clinging to meaningless lives. Why waste your energy grieving for them?" Muzan extended a hand, his expression unchanging. "Join me. Abandon these trivial emotions and pursue something greater—something eternal."

Haruto's trembling hand tightened around his blade. His pale blue eyes burned with fury.

"Those 'fragile creatures'... that little girl you just stepped over... I loved her cooking."

With a flash of steel, Haruto surged forward like a bolt of lightning.

"Star Breathing: Sixth Form—Starlight dash!"