Chapter 41 – Upper Moon One: Kokushibo
The tall figure stood motionless, his long black hair swaying gently under the night breeze.
Six blood-red eyes burned on his face, radiating a cold, razor-sharp aura that seemed to pierce straight into Hikaru's bones.
—Upper Moon One. Kokushibo.
Without question, aside from Muzan Kibutsuji himself, this was the strongest demon still alive.
The oppressive weight pouring from his body was as sharp and chilling as a blade's edge, and Hikaru felt his heartbeat start to spiral out of control.
Yes—
Even from his presence alone…
Hikaru was already trembling. Even his [Focused Serenity] skill—despite having reached rank F+—couldn't calm his thoughts anymore.
His heart thumped wildly.
Every pore of his body opened, goosebumps racing down his skin.
His body was reacting like prey cornered by an ancient predator.
How… did I draw this monster's attention?
He didn't know.
Was it because he had slaughtered too many Lower Moon demons?
He had killed two members of the Twelve Kizuki on his own—though they were only Lower Moons.
But… he quickly dismissed that thought.
Lower Moons and Upper Moons lived in different worlds. They weren't equals—Lower Moons could be replaced at any time. There was no way the deaths of two insignificant demons would make Kokushibo, of all beings, come personally.
So… why?
Even as unease gnawed at his soul, Hikaru forced himself to think. To keep his outward composure, even without the aid of his mental skill.
From the start, he had accepted the truth of his own existence. He had trained his mind for moments like this.
And because of that—
Even with his body trembling, even with instinct screaming at him to run—he could still think.
He could still stand.
He could still… face forward.
"…You…"
Kokushibo's voice was low and gravelly, echoing through the trees as if blending with the night air.
His eyes shifted, turning slowly, then—
Locked onto Hikaru.
"…You've mastered Sun Breathing, haven't you?"
The long, crimson Nichirin blade in his hand rose slightly.
And Hikaru noticed—along the hilt, guard, and all the way down the blade—hundreds of tiny eyes had opened, staring in all directions, absorbing everything.
Sun Breathing.
So… that's the reason?
Hikaru's expression changed ever so slightly. He lifted his chin, meeting the gaze of the terrifying being before him.
But before he could respond—
"…No. You haven't."
Kokushibo interrupted calmly.
"The sound… is different."
His tone was heavy, like a boulder rolling slowly down a mountain slope.
"Different from him…"
Of course it was different.
No one knew better than Hikaru himself that he hadn't mastered Sun Breathing.
He wasn't Yoriichi.
All he'd managed to do was piece together fragments of knowledge left behind. He had only used visual tricks and aura effects to deceive Muzan before.
Twice—he had managed to make Muzan retreat, mistaking him for something he wasn't.
But now…
Because of that—
He had drawn the attention of someone far more dangerous.
Kokushibo.
Upper Moon One.
Before becoming a demon, he had been the elder brother of Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Jealousy and envy toward his younger brother's genius had driven him to surrender himself to Muzan—accepting demon blood and becoming one of the first Twelve Kizuki.
From that moment on, he lived for only one obsession:
To surpass the younger brother who was almost like a god.
And because of that…
He was hypersensitive to anything related to Sun Breathing.
"…So that's it."
Hikaru finally understood.
This wasn't coincidence.
It was his own mistake—for not considering that mimicking Sun Breathing would attract a monster like this.
A fatal miscalculation.
But…
No one in any world could predict everything.
No matter how clever someone was—there were always gaps. Always something left unaccounted for.
All he could do now was face forward.
Kokushibo lifted his blade higher.
All six eyes were fixed on him—cold, flat, devoid of any emotion.
"…In that case, you have no reason to live. Die."
The words carried no anger, no hatred, no cruelty.
They were simply… final. A judgment.
There was nowhere to run.
Hikaru could feel it clearly.
The pressure radiating from Kokushibo's body left no openings. Even if he tried to use Void Breathing, the sheer spiritual pressure would crush his movements.
He couldn't move.
He mustn't move.
His legs were locked.
His heart quaked.
Hikaru felt—
Fear.
Raw, unfiltered fear.
His body trembled not from the cold—
But from terror.
[Focused Serenity] had failed to block the enemy's spiritual pressure.
His body was now reacting on instinct.
This was the greatest crisis he had faced since arriving in this world.
Even the first time he encountered a man-eating demon—
Even when he had stood before Muzan himself—
Neither had made him feel like this.
This was…
Far worse.
…I'm going to die.
The thought echoed in his mind.
But—
I don't want to die.
Not here. Not now.
There were still things he had to do.
Power he had yet to reach.
A promise to defeat Muzan.
And above all…
He wanted to go home.
"…So I can feel fear like this, huh?" Hikaru whispered.
He drew in a deep breath.
The night wind grew stronger.
And before his eyes, Kokushibo began to move his blade.
Slow, but certain.
The blood-red moonlight reflected on the Nichirin steel like a frozen river of crimson.
And then—
The sword began to descend.
The air tore apart.
Moonlight split in two.
The wind shifted into an invisible wave of cutting force.
"—Aren't you interested?"
Hikaru's voice cut through the night.
"In something… beyond the level Yoriichi ever reached?"
The sword halted.
Its edge—mere centimeters from his face—hung frozen in the air.
Slowly, the killing intent began to unravel.
And beyond the gleam of steel—
Kokushibo's face reappeared.
"…What did you just say?"
His voice… trembled.
Faintly. But there was something different in his tone.
All six eyes shifted slightly.
The once-icy gaze seemed to hold something else now.
He had stopped.
He was… restraining himself.
All because of one sentence.
The desire to surpass Yoriichi was Kokushibo's deepest obsession.
It was the reason he became a demon in the first place.
Even after centuries, and countless memories fading into dust, one thing remained eternal in his heart:
The need to defeat his younger brother.
"…I know…"
Hikaru spoke softly, smiling faintly.
He looked straight into the demon's face.
Fear made his mind race faster than ever. Memories long buried surfaced—information, fragments, facts he had carried from his original world.
He searched—
And found it.
Because he knew…
This world was real.
Which meant anything he knew from his "past" could be the key to survival.
"…Upper Moon One… Kokushibo…"
Or perhaps, more accurately—
"Tsugikuni Michikatsu."
The demon froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
He was… shaken.
That was his old name.
The name he bore before becoming a demon.
Something that should have been long forgotten.
But—
He could never truly forget.
Even after hundreds of years… the name lingered.
The shock lasted only a moment.
But it was enough.
Enough for Hikaru to take a single step.
His hand slid to his sword's hilt.
His thumb pressed against the guard.
And slowly—
He stepped forward.
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