Drip... drop... drip...
In the dimly lit room, the sound of water droplets echoed with terrifying clarity, intensifying the oppressive atmosphere.
Standing before a table laden with bottles and jars, Shokyu looked down disdainfully at the various potions, his crimson eyes glowing with a faint, pale light.
His face—a near mirror image of Muzan's—twisted into a sneer.
"My poor brother... such a grumpy, arrogant fool. What is the point of this useless research? Even if he conquers the sun, so what? He remains a pathetic worm, reliant on human blood to survive."
Shokyu's eyes narrowed.
"Immortality is merely the beginning. True power lies in Eternity! The Underworld! The true Yomi! Compared to that, all of this is nothing but trash!"
Crash! Smash! Hiss!
With a violent sweep, the exquisite wooden table was cleaved in two.
Glass shattered and chemicals hissed as bottles and jars were smashed to the floor, creating a cacophony of destruction.
Shokyu paced the room, his voice rising with fervor as he approached the door where a sliver of light seeped through.
"A thousand years of planning... every step calculated... Finally! Finally! The day has arrived!"
In the dim light, the shadow behind Shokyu suddenly began to writhe.
A figure emerged from the darkness—gray-skinned and nondescript.
It was the capricious and mysterious demon, Kamaro.
Though Kamaro appeared silently behind Shokyu, he did not attack.
Instead, he began to mirror Shokyu's movements perfectly—stepping forward, raising his arms, and smiling in unison.
He even began to echo Shokyu's words.
"The truth of the demons... the truth of the Underworld! In the end, I alone have grasped it!"
Shokyu's voice overlapped with Kamaro's.
The contrast between Shokyu's manic excitement and Kamaro's flat calmness created a chilling, dissonant harmony.
Terrifyingly, Kamaro's body continued to writhe, undergoing bizarre transformations.
A new face took shape, morphing instantly into a strange, bald, muscular man, and then into a hunched old man.
His voice shifted with his appearance, layering multiple tones to create a grotesque effect.
Had Shinichi been there, he would have been shocked to recognize the figures: the first was Obei Saburo, the man who had kidnapped him and reduced him to beggary; the second was Abe Nobumasa, the old man who had saved him in the mysterious valley.
But it didn't stop there.
Kamaro's appearance flickered rapidly—a richly dressed nobleman, a beautiful woman, an armored ancient samurai, and even a Demon Slayer from a bygone era.
Over the last thousand years, Kamaro had evolved into dozens, perhaps hundreds, of different roles.
The voices layered over one another until he sounded like a choir of hundreds speaking at once, deep and heavy as a tolling bell.
"More than a thousand years of failure and setbacks end now. At this moment, I, the lucky survivor who escaped the Yomi, am about to..." Shokyu enunciated every word, and the multitude of voices behind him repeated them in unison.
Suddenly, Kamaro crashed into Shokyu.
His body melted like beeswax, coating him.
Shokyu spread his arms, absorbing the entity like melting chocolate.
Buzz!
As the golden pupils merged completely with Shokyu's scarlet eyes, a single, unified voice resonated.
"Become the Ruler of the Yomi!"
Boom!! Crack!!
An invisible, powerful shockwave exploded from Shokyu.
The wooden door shattered into splinters, revealing the scene beyond.
Within the inverted, boundless Infinity Castle, a spacious wooden platform held several crosses, each binding a figure.
His form rippling with power, Shokyu walked past the first few figures.
He ignored the three Upper Moon demons radiating immense power, and the two heavily injured old men watching him with cold eyes.
His target was the final group.
"The blood of the Breath of Life..." Shokyu raised his hand.
A gash opened in his palm, and bright red, scalding blood gushed out, radiating intense vitality.
"The blood of the Blue Spider Lily, the key to conquering the sun." Sharp claws rose, gently slicing the forehead of the unconscious Nezuko.
A drop of blood slid down and merged silently into Shokyu's palm.
"The blood of the ultimate evil... hehe. I truly must thank my dear brother."
Shokyu chuckled as he approached Muzan.
The Demon King was immobilized, pierced by scarlet thorns covered in spikes.
Only his eyes burned with rage—a fury hot enough to incinerate the Infinity Castle.
Shokyu had anticipated this.
The scarlet thorns not only tore at Muzan's flesh but writhed and rubbed against the wounds, preventing his terrifying regeneration from taking hold.
Muzan lived up to his title as the Demon King; despite being poisoned by the Demon Slayer Corps, he had forced Shokyu to use every trump card and weakening drug developed over a millennium just to suppress him.
"There is an old saying in the East: 'The victor becomes the King, the loser becomes the bandit.' Accept your fate, my poor brother."
Shokyu struck, plunging his claws into Muzan's chest and crushing a heart!
Squelch!
As he withdrew his claws, sticky demon blood coated Shokyu's hands.
However, losing a single heart meant little to Muzan.
The ultimate creature possessed seven hearts and five brains; killing him would not be so simple.
Shokyu shook the blood from his hand, offered Muzan one last cold smile and turned to the final figure.
On the cross, a girl with long black hair blinked her amber eyes, looking at him in confusion.
It was strange; he was a stranger, yet he carried her grandfather's aura.
Looking at the girl, Shokyu could no longer contain his ecstasy.
"And the final key... the bloodline of the Guardian of the Yomi. I lack nothing now. I am complete."
"What are you talking about? What have you done?"
A cold, questioning voice suddenly rang out from behind Shokyu.