"I've been waiting for you!"
Tendo Kazama's lips curled, his voice brimming with excitement.
Demon: "???"
Is this guy sick?
As the Demon puzzled over this—whoosh!—a blade flashed like lightning through the air, carrying a heart-stopping momentum straight toward its neck.
In that instant, blood sprayed. The Demon stared in disbelief as Tendo Kazama retreated.
This brat was strong.
Tendo set the rice bag aside—he didn't want to waste food. Getting it stained with Demon blood would be disgusting.
Flicking blood off the kitchen knife, he raised it to point at the Demon and said with a grin:
"Y'know, you're really weak. And I'm just a kid."
The scornful tone paired with those golden eyes looking down on it made the Demon's blood boil.
This was like being mocked by a roasted chicken on the dining table.
"You little brat, you're asking for death!"The Demon gritted its teeth, wishing it could tear Tendo apart alive. It had decided—it would devour this arrogant little human bite by bite.
A bluish-black lightning bolt split the silver moonlight as sharp claws tore through the air, aiming straight for Tendo's head.
A crisp ding echoed through the forest path. The kitchen knife snapped in two, and a bloody gash appeared on Tendo's chest. He had underestimated the Demon's strength—at the very least, an ordinary kitchen knife was no match for it.
"Hahaha!"
"Keep acting tough, brat!"
The Demon immediately grew smug, pointing at Tendo and laughing maniacally. It gestured ahead and sneered:
"Run, brat! I'll give you a head start!"
Hearing this, Tendo turned and bolted. The Demon didn't give chase—not out of mercy, but because its Blood Demon Art was poison.
Soon enough, that little brat wouldn't be able to move a muscle.
Two brief exchanges had made the Demon realize this human child wasn't just arrogant—he was genuinely strong. But in the end, he was still too green.
While Tendo fled, the Demon licked the blood from its claws clean. Slowly, it began devouring its own hand.
"Delicious!"
"So delicious!"
"Hahaha!"
"This is absolutely the most delicious blood in the world!"
The Demon hugged itself, trembling and writhing in ecstasy as it watched Tendo's steps grow increasingly sluggish.
"D-damn it…!"
"Poisoned…!"
With a cry, Tendo collapsed.
The Demon's face twisted with excitement, its features contorting as it dropped to all fours and charged at Tendo like a beast.
Its maw gaped wide, baring razor-sharp fangs as it lunged for Tendo's throat. A grotesque gurgle escaped its throat, its eyes nearly morphing into Tendo's shape in its frenzy.
Just as its fangs were about to sink in—a flash of steel, too fast for the Demon to react, sliced through the air.
In an instant, its world turned upside down.
By the time the Demon regained its senses, its head had already parted ways with its body.
Tendo gripped the broken half of the kitchen knife, the wound on his chest now completely healed—only his torn clothes proved he'd ever been injured.
He kicked the Demon's body away and pinned its head to the ground with the blade.
"You monsters really are tenacious, huh? Still alive even after decapitation. Fascinating."
Tendo patted the Demon's cheek, a gentle smile on his face as he spoke with curious admiration.
But in the Demon's eyes, what it saw was a devil—a madman. If Muzan represented authority and absolute domination…
Then this human before it embodied pure terror, especially with that icy, hollow smile.
Finally, the Demon realized—all that weakness had been an act.
"How…?!"
"My Blood Demon Art can poison an ox! There's no way you're fine!"
"Impossible!"
"Absolutely impossible!"
The Demon shrieked hysterically, unwilling to accept this. Each scream made its facial muscles press against the blade, spilling bluish-black blood across the ground.
"Because I have Rare Blood," Tendo answered. He wasn't lying—he had been poisoned. On purpose, sure, but it still hurt like hell.
"Mostly, though? You're just weak."
He couldn't resist adding that jab.
This world had people with special constitutions—what Demons called Rare Blood.Tendo Kazama, as a transmigrator, also possessed a special constitution—a remarkably powerful one at that, especially when it came to his blood.
His unique physique granted him three abilities.
The first was an extraordinary perception, somewhat akin to a spider-sense, though it was still in the process of being honed.
The second was an incredible regenerative ability. While it couldn't compare to the limb-regrowing capabilities of demons, he was still quite satisfied with it.
Three was the unparalleled adaptability of his blood, which was Tendo Kazama's greatest reliance.
After two and a half years of research, he discovered that those who ingested his blood could also accelerate wound recovery, albeit with slightly diminished effects. His blood could even cure diseases.
Most importantly, his blood had an exceptionally long preservation time—remaining viable for up to a month without spoiling.
Of course, these research achievements owed much to the physical support of the old man Kuwajima.
Tendo Kazama deliberately allowed himself to be struck by a Demon, just to see if he could be poisoned and thereby enhance his body's resistance to toxins. After all, the Blood Demon Arts of Demons were varied and unpredictable.
Unexpectedly, his gamble paid off—this Demon's Blood Demon Art truly could inflict poisoning.
Tendo stretched lazily, glancing at his torn clothes before fixing a resentful stare on the head pinned to the ground.
"Torn clothes again… The old man's gonna scold me for sure."
"Alright, how do you plan to compensate me?"
Demon: "???"
Are you even listening to yourself? How can such icy words come from a mouth at 36 degrees?
Glancing at his own body lying not far away, the Demon completely lost it.
Here he was, decapitated, and the instigator of this whole mess was demanding compensation? Was there no justice left in the world?
"Damn human! If you've got the guts, just kill me!"
"Otherwise, I swear I'll devour you!"
Just as the Demon was spewing threats, Tendo placed his hand right in front of the Demon's mouth, saying earnestly:
"Here, go ahead and eat!"
The Demon stared at Tendo in confusion, suddenly thinking this guy wasn't so bad after all.
So, he lunged forward to bite—only for Tendo to dodge effortlessly, taunting:
"I gave you a chance, but you couldn't take it!"
"Are you messing with me?!" the Demon roared.
Tendo patted the Demon's little head, looking at him like he was an idiot.
"Congratulations, you got it right!"
"You… you… you—!"
The Demon was so furious he was at a loss for words, his bluish-black face turning red.
Is this guy a monster or something?!
"Anyway, next up is the Q&A session!"
Ignoring the Demon's curses, Tendo casually sat down across from him, smiling as he asked:
"Hey, Mr. Trash-tier Demon, mind sharing some info about your boss? Let's chat for a bit, yeah?"
"Are you insane?!"
"What the hell do you mean 'boss'?!"
The Demon spat, his attitude downright hostile.
"I mean Muzan Kibutsuji, of course."
Tendo's words slithered into the Demon's mind like a devil's whisper, leaving him stunned.