Chapter 30 – Everything Was Calculated!
The bright glow of electric lamps. Towering buildings. The hustle and bustle of a city that never stopped moving.
In the heart of Tokyo, Hikaru stood silently along the edge of the street, his sharp gaze cutting through the evening crowd.
He stood still.
Breathing deeply.
Sensing.
He could feel it clearly now—the presence of a demon, far off in the distance. Faint, but real.
High above, a jet-black Kasugai crow dove from the night sky, landing swiftly beside him.
"A demon has been detected!"
The bird's hoarse voice delivered the message without hesitation.
This crow belonged to Hikaru—his personal Kasugai, though it didn't accompany him everywhere. More often than not, he had it scout independently, searching for any signs of demonic activity.
It was largely thanks to this crow that he had located the Kamado family that night.
Unlike most Kasugai crows, this one was unusually intelligent. During downtime, Hikaru had even trained it using the fundamentals of Void Breathing—enhancing its stealth and reconnaissance abilities far beyond standard level.
And now… it returned with critical information.
Even if Hikaru could sense the demon's presence, his tracking skills weren't exceptional. That's where the crow's keen senses became indispensable.
He gave a subtle nod and touched the hilt of his sword, fingers lightly brushing across the tsuba—the guard of his blade—as his mind raced.
Openly carrying a sword in public was technically forbidden under current regulations. But enforcement was... loose.
Many still turned a blind eye, especially toward descendants of old samurai families who carried themselves with honor.
Still—unsheathing a sword in the middle of a crowd? That was something else entirely.
Fighting here wasn't an option.
More than that…
"How obvious. As if it's bait just for me."
His eyes narrowed.
Even though he had once forced Kibutsuji Muzan to retreat, Hikaru wasn't naive enough to think the Demon King had been truly fooled.
Muzan, who had lived for over a thousand years, had surely sensed something was off. And while he was too cautious—or too cowardly—to attack in person again, he would no doubt send subordinates to test the waters.
If Hikaru truly wielded Sun Breathing, and Muzan's underling was destroyed, the Demon King would retreat once more into the shadows.
But if it turned out to be a bluff—or just a stroke of luck—then Muzan would strike again.
And if Hikaru refused to respond at all, that too would reveal weakness.
No matter how this played out… Hikaru remained the target.
"This game…"
In that instant, it became clear.
This wasn't a simple battle.
It was a test. A psychological war.
To most Demon Slayers, spotting a demon meant only one thing: eliminate it. Their hatred ran deep, rooted in blood and personal loss.
But Hikaru had long learned better.
Knowing it was a trap—why walk into it headfirst?
He stood calmly by the sidewalk, eyes scanning the crowd.
Then, in a heartbeat—
His gaze caught something.
A middle-aged police officer in uniform, standing nearby with a firearm at his hip.
"Excuse me, sir—can I help you?"
Their eyes met.
And in that moment, the officer's expression froze. The light in his pupils faded—his awareness vanished instantly.
—Void Breathing: Mirror Moon Illusion.
A hypnotic technique.
And now... it was time to move.
— — —
In a narrow alley, beyond the reach of city lights—
The wind grew cold.
Along damp cobblestones hemmed in by crumbling walls, a trail of blood had begun to spread. Droplets fell one by one, staining the stone with a sickening red.
Human blood.
A crouching figure loomed over the ground, its four limbs pressed low like a beast ready to pounce.
A pale, gray-skinned demon dressed in a tattered white robe. Its long black hair faded into bright orange at the tips. Veins ran like vines across its skin, and etched into its eyes was a glowing kanji:
Lower Six.
The demon's breathing was ragged and unsteady.
"It's coming… it's coming, isn't it…"
It muttered to itself, voice low and trembling.
Then, in its mind—like venom dripping into its ears—came another voice.
"I hope you won't disappoint me this time… Lower Rank Six of the Twelve Kizuki. Draw him out. Kill him. And I will give you more blood… more power."
The voice of…
Kibutsuji Muzan.
"Y-yes, Muzan-sama!" the demon stammered, trembling.
Even among the elite Twelve Kizuki, his rank—Lower Six—meant little in the eyes of the Demon King.
In the world of Kimetsu no Yaiba, demons were not created equal. At the top sat the Twelve Kizuki, split between the Upper and Lower Moons. Those who possessed Blood Demon Arts, who had consumed countless lives, and ascended through sheer strength.
And this demon—Kamunue—was one of them.
Lower Rank Six.
Feared by humans. Honored among demons.
But before Muzan... nothing more than a pawn.
He now shook with equal parts fear and longing—desperate for another drop of Muzan's blood, another inch of strength.
He waited.
The wind howled again, sharp and freezing.
From the rooftops above, another figure watched silently. Crimson eyes reflected the moonlight—cold and calculating.
Kibutsuji Muzan.
He remained still.
Observing.
Waiting.
"…Is it truly Sun Breathing?"
His eyes narrowed. Rage flickered behind them—along with hatred, fear, and the unhealed wound from the past.
"…He's coming. I can feel him…"
Kamunue twitched.
Drool spilled from the edge of his lips.
"Where is he…? Which direction…?"
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the street.
Orderly. Synchronized. Fast.
Kamunue froze. Muzan's expression shifted.
Policemen.
Dozens of them, bursting into the alley with weapons drawn and orders barked.
Leading them was none other than the officer Hikaru had stared down earlier.
The one still under hypnosis.
"…The police?" Muzan muttered darkly.
Kamunue looked up, panic rising.
The police themselves were no threat—they could be torn apart like paper—but they represented something else.
Order. Authority. Human society.
And Muzan… had no desire to draw unnecessary attention from the government.
"…We're pulling back."
Muzan's voice cut like ice.
He had waited for this moment—for the truth to be revealed.
But now—
"He didn't come? It was all… a deception!?"
If it had truly been Sun Breathing, the boy would have arrived.
He wouldn't run. He wouldn't hide.
Which meant—
"…A trick. It was all a trick!"
A mix of relief and fury rose in Muzan's chest.
He had been played.
Kamunue obeyed without resistance, vanishing into the shadows in an instant. The alley emptied. Only a pool of blood remained—no body, no trace.
And in this era… such a scene would be written off as another unsolved mystery.
Up above, Muzan's expression returned to cold stillness.
His form melted into the night.
High above, Hikaru's Kasugai crow beat its wings and soared away—disappearing into the endless sky.
— — —
On the outskirts of the city, beneath the freezing moonlight—
Kamunue finally stopped running. The tension in his chest began to fade.
He dared not ask about the blood now. The mission wasn't complete.
But then—
A sudden impact split the air.
A shadow descended.
A single figure landed before him—like lightning slamming into the earth.
Invisible wind coiled around the figure's body, reflecting moonlight like shards of glimmering crystal.
Someone had arrived.
And tonight…
The real hunt was about to begin.
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