[Ding! 500 reputation points have been spent to heal Twelve Kizuki Upper Rank Six, Daki!]
As the system prompt echoed, Rivo felt a pang of heartache.
Five hundred reputation points were gone—enough for him to perform another Upper Rank summon.
There was even a one-third chance of drawing Kokushibo, the strongest swordsman of the Sengoku era.
"Buzz!"
A silver light shimmered across Daki's body, and the dense black incantations that had been crawling over her skin slowly dispersed.
The pain contorting her face gradually faded away.
Feeling relief for the first time, Daki's expression turned to one of shame.
"Go," Rivo ordered coldly.
"Use the plan I taught you and execute it again.
In this world, there are many weapons called Teigu—imperial tools.
I don't have time to explain everything to you.
Learn and adapt.
Don't let me down."
Rivo leaned back on the sofa, his expression icy.
Having just spent such a large amount of reputation points, he had little patience to spare for Daki.
It was clear that Daki and Gyutaro had been careless—arrogantly believing that no sword could harm them.
But Rivo bore part of the blame.
He hadn't explained the special death effect of Murasame beforehand.
Part of him wanted to test whether a demon could resist this cursed blade.
Now he had his answer: the rules of the two worlds weren't fully compatible.
In other words, while demons in the Demon Slayer world could only be killed by Nichirin blades or sunlight, in the Akame ga Kill world, the power scale was significantly higher.
Not only were the Teigu deadly, but the sheer physical strength of humans here far surpassed the average warrior from the Demon Slayer world.
In the original story, even someone like Tatsumi—a simple village boy—could easily slay dangerous beasts.
Such brute strength alone rivaled that of a Hashira-level swordsman.
As for Daki and Gyutaro, they might not even stand a chance against someone like Bulat, one of Night Raid's strongest fighters.
Bulat's strength was easily on par with Kokushibo.
Thinking of this, Rivo's brows furrowed.
Gyutaro, sensing his master's displeasure, grew nervous.
He immediately grabbed Daki's head and forced both their foreheads to touch the ground.
Before Daki could react, Gyutaro spoke in a low voice:
"I apologize, Master.
This time, we were careless.
I'll take better care of my sister.
We won't interfere with your plans again."
Gyutaro, who had survived the cruel streets of the Entertainment District even as a human, understood the reality of power.
From just a single glance at Rivo's expression, he could tell their master was annoyed.
His apology wasn't just sincerity—it was survival instinct.
In this world, worthless tools are discarded without hesitation.
Gyutaro knew that better than anyone.
"Well. Don't get caught when you leave," Rivo replied, his tone softening slightly.
He appreciated Gyutaro's awareness and loyalty.
Turning away, he walked to his bed and lay down.
The siblings merged together again and disappeared into the shadows.
Meanwhile…
At the same time that Daki and Gyutaro were recovering, Akaza—recently summoned by Rivo—was prowling through the imperial capital under the cover of darkness.
"Challenge the strong, build the reputation of demons…"
"What a comfortable errand…"
Akaza stood on a rooftop, gazing at the brilliantly lit city below.
Crowds bustled through the streets like ants, but his eyes held only disdain.
He hated the weak.
Their very existence disgusted him.
The stench of cowardice and fragility made him feel sick.
Normally, he would have slaughtered anyone in his path.
But tonight, he had a different goal—he was searching for a worthy opponent.
His gaze fixed on a particular figure, and a faint smile crossed his lips.
He could sense fighting spirit emanating from this one.
With a blur, Akaza vanished into the night.
Below, Ogre (Oka), clad in armor, led his men through a narrow alley.
A major incident had just occurred on Red Light Street—Daki had disappeared.
Technically, this wasn't the responsibility of the Imperial Capital Garrison.
However, enormous amounts of bribe money were paid to their commander, Onest.
As the minister who controlled the nation's finances, Onest would not allow disruptions in the red-light districts.
Any disturbance there meant losses for him—losses he would not tolerate.
Therefore, the garrison had been dispatched like loyal hounds of the underground organizations.
"Hua Kui is missing, and now the garrison has to get involved in the search," Ogre muttered bitterly.
But as Ogre and two of his men sprinted down the alley, a figure suddenly appeared in front of them.
"What the hell? Who are you, boy?"
Ogre frowned.
The boy standing before him was not very tall but bore strange tattoos across his skin—like those worn by criminals.
Such attire was rare in the imperial capital, more common among foreign tribes.
Yet as an officer, Ogre kept his composure and asked, "Do you need something? State your business."
"Good… very good…"
Akaza's gaze locked onto Ogre, his expression almost approving.
He could feel the man's strength—it was the most formidable aura he had encountered so far in this city.
He had been worried that this imperial capital lacked any worthy challengers.
But now, he had found one.
"However," Akaza said with a grin, "the two trash behind you… they're an eyesore."
"Destructive Death: Compass Needle!"
Akaza's eyes narrowed as killing intent surged from his body.
He stepped forward with explosive force, and instantly a twelve-point snowflake compass appeared on the ground beneath his feet.
Ogre felt the shift in energy.
The sheer ferocity of Akaza's killing aura—like that of a wild beast—sent a chill down his spine.
A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple.
"So fast!"
Before he could draw his sword, Akaza had vanished from sight.
Ogre pivoted sideways instinctively, narrowly dodging a strike—but to his horror, Akaza hadn't targeted him.
A sharp, wet sound echoed.
When Ogre turned, he saw both of his subordinates collapse, blood gushing from the holes Akaza had punched straight through their chests.