Kaigaku's thoughts raced selfishly as he grabbed the strange young man's clothes.
"You're from the Demon Slayer Corps, right? I'm a disciple of former Thunder Hashira Kuwajima Jigoro. There are two demons in a wooden house not far from here!"
"Demons?"
The youth with heterochromatic eyes—green on the left, gold on the right—narrowed his gaze slightly and calmly removed Kaigaku's hand from his clothing. He clearly disliked being touched.
"Yes! Right there!"
Kaigaku nodded frantically.
"Then lead the way."
The youth spoke plainly.
"Me? Lead you?"
Kaigaku froze.
No way.
He didn't want to see Ryuya and Qingshu again. And what if this guy wasn't strong enough to protect him? What if they both died?
He would rather die than go back.
Just as he opened his mouth to refuse—
A puddle of ink suddenly spread beneath his feet.
From the ink, a black hand shot up and grabbed his leg.
Kaigaku's heart sank.
Before he could react, he was dragged downward. In sheer panic, he grabbed the youth's leg—
And both of them were swallowed by the ink.
When Kaigaku regained consciousness, he found himself standing in a world of black and white.
Mountains, clouds, trees—everything looked like it had been painted in ink.
"Oh?"
Ryuya raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the additional arrival.
"My Lord, they were too close together," Qingshu explained calmly. "He was brought in as well."
Ryuya nodded in satisfaction.
A drawback discovered early was always better.
He then looked at Kaigaku's pale, trembling face and smiled faintly.
"Why aren't you running now, Kaigaku?"
"I—I…"
Kaigaku swallowed hard, terror written all over him.
He had never met a demon this frightening.
It wasn't just Ryuya's strength.
It was his composure. His tone. His way of playing with people.
"Is this a Blood Demon Art?"
The heterochromatic-eyed youth glanced at Kaigaku with visible disdain.
"I don't know! Don't ask me! I don't know anything!"
Kaigaku's voice broke with fear.
He was going to die here.
He had never seen such a bizarre place. How could he escape?
Those two demons would never let him go.
"Someone like you is a disciple of Kuwajima Jigoro?"
The youth clicked his tongue in irritation.
"If the Demon Slayer Corps were full of people like you, they would've been wiped out long ago."
Kaigaku was too overwhelmed by fear to even process the insult.
"A-Are you a Hashira?"
He looked at the youth desperately, clinging to hope.
"I am not."
The answer was calm.
"It's over… it's over…"
Kaigaku collapsed into despair.
He could tell from Ryuya's aura alone—this wasn't a demon an ordinary Corps member could handle.
"Why are you so weak?! We're all going to die!"
Instead of reflecting on himself, Kaigaku lashed out at the other man.
The youth frowned deeply.
"Are you mentally defective?"
He had been dragged into this against his will—yet this coward dared to blame him?
If Kaigaku were a demon, he would've cut his head off already.
"Shut up. If you can't fight, don't get in my way."
He turned his attention toward the two demons.
This world…
It had to be a spatial Blood Demon Art.
He had encountered one or two such techniques during missions before. There was often a core that could be destroyed.
"Iguro Obanai?"
Ryuya's gaze lingered on the youth with the white snake coiled around his neck.
So this was Iguro Obanai.
Not yet the Snake Hashira—but already impressive.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Ryuya slowly licked his lips.
Originally, he only wanted to toy with Kaigaku.
But Kaigaku had brought him something better.
Qingshu—an excellent assistant.
And now—
A future Hashira.
He was bound to fall out with Muzan Kibutsuji sooner or later. And his relationship with the Demon Slayer Corps was already strained.
If both sides would be his enemies—
Then he should weaken both.
There were two ways to weaken the Demon Slayer Corps.
The first was simple: kill them.
The second—
Poach them.
The second option was far more interesting.
It strengthened him while weakening them.
A single individual's power was limited. Building his own faction was essential.
Qingshu was promising.
Tamayo was still only an ally.
Makomo needed time to grow.
But Iguro Obanai—
He had potential.
"Serpent Breathing, Second Form: Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head!"
While Ryuya was thinking, Obanai struck first.
He flashed behind Ryuya in a serpentine arc, his curved Nichirin Blade twisting like a white python as it lunged forward.
"My Lord!"
Qingshu panicked, ready to throw himself in front.
But at that moment—
Ryuya moved.
Before Obanai even saw him draw his blade, spiraling golden crescent slashes erupted outward.
Obanai was forced to abandon his strike and defend.
Clang!
The impact numbed his hands instantly.
After a single exchange, Kaburamaru—the white snake around his neck—had suffered minor injuries.
Obanai retreated, breathing steady but heavy.
"You can use a Breathing Technique… Moon Breathing?"
His pupils shrank.
"Wait… you're the Moon Demon the Corps warned us about. The one who turned the former Flower Hashira into a demon."
Ryuya smiled faintly.
"So I'm that famous?"
Obanai's heart sank.
He wasn't a match.
Escaping alive would be a miracle.
He needed to break this Blood Demon Art.
Was it Ryuya's?
Or the other demon's?
He had to gamble.
Asking Kaigaku was pointless.
If this spatial technique belonged to Ryuya—
Then death was inevitable.
He had only one option.
"Serpent Breathing, Fourth Form: Slithering Serpent!"
He moved swiftly, body weaving unpredictably.
Ryuya initially thought the attack targeted him—
But at the last second, Obanai twisted his body, redirecting his curved blade toward Qingshu.
Clever.
The strike landed cleanly.
A deep slash tore across Qingshu's chest.
He rolled across the ink-painted ground but desperately shielded the landscape scroll in his arms.
Obanai's eyes sharpened instantly.
So that's the core.
He redirected his blade toward the scroll—
But Ryuya appeared before him in a blur.
"Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon — Evening Palace."
This time, the slash rose upward.
A powerful impact struck Obanai's hilt.
With his relatively weak wrist strength, he couldn't hold it.
His Nichirin Blade flew from his hand.
Ryuya wasn't surprised.
Among the Hashira, Obanai's physical strength wasn't his greatest asset. His unpredictability and speed were.
Knowing an opponent's weakness often determined the outcome.
Now disarmed, Obanai stood silently, glaring at Ryuya.
Kaigaku collapsed to the ground in despair.
"It's over…"
He wished desperately for Kuwajima Jigoro to appear and save him.
He didn't want to die.
Iguro Obanai, however, showed no fear.
Only disgust.
"Iguro Obanai," Ryuya said lightly, "I can give you a chance. Become a demon. I'll spare your life."
Obanai sneered.
"Become a demon? No one in the Demon Slayer Corps would willingly become such a filthy creature. Even if you kill me, I won't grant your wish."
His mind flashed to the Snake Demon of the Iguro family.
That cursed existence.
Those ignorant relatives.
That hatred was carved into his bones.
"Is that so? No one would be willing?"
Ryuya's gaze shifted slowly toward Kaigaku.
In that instant—
Kaigaku saw hope.
He scrambled forward, trembling.
"My Lord! I'm willing! I'll become a demon! Just spare me!"
Silence.
Then—
Ryuya burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Kaigaku.
Oh, Kaigaku.
It's truly you.
You never disappoint.