On a particularly quiet night, a faint light still glowed within the Eternal Paradise Temple.
Yet, the hour was extraordinarily late… and the scene, to say the least, unusual.
The cause of this situation? A child, sitting alone on a cushion.
In his hands, he held a bowl of clear water, staring at his reflection within it, his expression utterly indifferent—an expression that didn't match his young age at all.
His rainbow-colored eyes added an even more mystical aura to the scene.
The night breeze lifted his hair, as if nature itself wanted to emphasize the "divine" presence of this child.
It was an almost logical gesture, as his face seemed sculpted by the hand of a god.
If a true child of God existed in this world, they would probably look something like this.
At least… that's what any normal person would think.
"Doma… isn't it?"
(Image)
"*Sigh*… this is kinda embarrassing~"
The child made a slight pout, casually tossing the bowl toward the still-open window, then propped his chin in his hand.
He watched the moon slowly set through the opening, his multicolored irises glimmering like clear gemstones.
There was a cold rationality in his gaze as his eyes wandered outside the temple.
"So, transmigration is actually real? Even after three days, my situation's still just as weird… *yawn*."
In his previous life, he had died without any clear reason, right in the middle of rereading *Kimetsu no Yaiba*.
A regrettable event… but one he felt no remorse accepting.
Since the age of ten, his frail and sickly body had condemned him to an endless struggle against relentless illnesses.
With such a constitution, dying without a clear explanation wasn't all that surprising.
"And yet… I had to end up in *KNY*. And as… Doma, of all people."
During his rare moments of freedom, he escaped into manga. Naturally, *Demon Slayer* was among his reads.
Normally, anyone would have panicked, lost their cool, upon realizing they'd become Doma.
But… he didn't.
A phenomenon tied to the very nature of his new identity, already heavy with threats.
The only clear memory he had before arriving in this reality was floating in an endless darkness… until a child with multicolored eyes appeared before him.
That child had greeted him with a compassionate smile, arms open, and had accepted his existence with an almost divine joy.
And so, their two beings had fused.
Or rather… together, they had given birth to a new life.
And with that, Jay had inherited Doma's curse.
"The original child truly had no emotions…" Doma murmured, lowering his eyes with an "saddened" air.
"He felt no joy, no anger, no ordinary human sorrow. Yet, he had a hard time forgetting anything… like a machine."
Douma in the manga was a genius.
That was a fact.
But his behavior raised so many doubts that debates still raged within the *KNY* community about it.
That's why Jay was astonished by the new worldview he perceived through these multicolored eyes.
"Hmm… maybe it's not so bad, for both of us."
With that thought, he flashed a pure, radiant smile… one no one would have suspected was artificial.
The fruit of Doma's "genius," born from his long observations of ordinary people.
"Young Lord!"
The side door opened, and a respectful female voice interrupted his wandering thoughts:
"The believers have arrived…"
"I understand. Let them in."
Doma grabbed a black-and-gold lotus-shaped hat from beside him, placed it on his head, and instantly flashed a flawless smile.
He always found it a bit ridiculous that a group of adults came to complain about their troubles to a child. But he had decided to play his role.
After all, he was the Lord and Master of the Eternal Paradise Faith. He had to carry out this task with seriousness.
The believers soon entered the hall and knelt before him.
One by one, they recounted their struggles, unloading their burdens as if to lighten their load.
Some hoped for divine salvation, others merely a practical solution. All looked up to the "Child of God" seated on his throne.
Doma, for his part, maintained a compassionate expression. His mind wandered elsewhere, weighed down by boredom.
At times, he shed calculated fake tears, bowing with sympathy, murmuring words of comfort.
He even recycled, in his own way, speeches from manga—like Jiraiya's talk about enduring adversity.
Of course, he replaced the word "ninja" with "man."
*Tch, what an exhausting waste of time…*
It wasn't until dusk, when the last rays of sunlight had faded, that the believers were escorted out by the temple's servants.
Strangely, each left deeply grateful, as if revitalized by their session with the sacred child.
Doma had spent the entire day, from dawn to dusk, listening to their grievances.
His body felt some fatigue, but his mind remained cold and unshaken, like ice.
He returned to his room, satisfied with his "work."
To others, it was devotion. To him, it was just a symbiotic relationship.
The believers' offerings? A simple transaction.
The evening continued in a well-practiced routine. A servant brought him a lavish meal for the era, then left him alone.
Doma savored the grilled fish and simmered vegetables, accompanied by miso soup.
It wasn't as refined as what Jay had once tasted on Earth, but far better than the bland hospital food.
He thought to himself that, all things considered, this repetitive life wasn't so bad.
He had a roof, water, food, and above all… a healthy body.
That was already more than enough for him.
"Hmm~ I guess I'll keep being the 'Young Lord,'" he said with a sly smile.
"Even if listening to these people complain is tiring… the outside world's too dangerous, and a handsome guy like me would have a hard time surviving alone."
Remaining a figure of worship wasn't such a bad deal, after all.
And out there, there were demons. Just thinking about it gave him chills, though he faked the emotion of fear.
As for becoming a demon himself… he was still hesitant.
Immortality tempted him, as did the curiosity of seeing this world a century later. But losing his freedom? That weighed on him.
And serving Muzan? Doma struggled to see himself as a complete servant.
Eating humans? The idea didn't appeal to him.
He was already considering alternatives, like collecting blood in exchange for rewards.
It wasn't compassion for humans—just cold logic.
He'd inevitably be in eternal conflict with the Demon Slayers if he proactively consumed human flesh.
In the end, he decided to postpone the decision (to become a demon or not).
"I'll let my future self deal with it."
But that night, everything changed.
Searching for his mother, who hadn't shown up, Doma walked down a moonlit corridor.
He opened the door to his parents' chamber. A heavy, metallic smell enveloped him instantly.
His father lay on the floor, throat slit.
His mother, her face blackened by poison, rested beside him.
Doma stood still, impassive.
With one glance, he understood what had happened: an infidelity discovered, a murder, then a suicide.
He had long known his father strayed with the servants and believers.
But to him, it had never been a big deal. After all, polygamy was tolerated in this era.
Even coming from a society where monogamy prevailed, Doma knew how to step back and respect local customs.
That's how the new Doma had viewed his father's infidelity. But the original Doma had simply underestimated the strength of human emotions.
His face remained neutral, but his body, out of habit, mimicked artificial pain. Tears flowed from his multicolored eyes.
A mask, once again.
Then his expression smoothed out.
"This smells bad… I should find someone to clean up."
He paused for a moment.
"Is this… really how a normal person would react?"
He looked down at his pale hands.
"Have my emotions… disappeared for good?"
For a second, a flicker of sadness crossed his eyes. Perhaps a remnant of Jay. But it was brief.
"This is… really too sad," he murmured.
A servant's piercing scream rang out behind him, discovering the bloody scene.
And so, that night came to an end.
The ranks of the Eternal Paradise Faith were thrown into chaos.
And Doma took his father's place at the head of the sect.