Rui had been the demon Muzan valued most among the Lower Ranks. Their backgrounds were remarkably similar, and Rui possessed exceptional potential. With the right nurturing, he was a prime candidate to eventually ascend to the Upper Ranks.
Fearful that demons might band together and one day challenge his absolute reign, Muzan had decreed that all demons must remain solitary. Rui was the sole exception, permitted to gather other demons at Mount Natagumo to play his twisted game of "family."
But Muzan never expected Rui to be killed—and certainly not at the hands of a Hashira. Instead, he had fallen to a strange human boy. This boy used neither poison nor a Nichirin Sword, but a technique strikingly similar to a Blood Demon Art, erasing Rui in a single strike. Even without experiencing the attack personally, Muzan felt a cold shiver of dread; he suspected that if he were to take such a hit, even he might be in grave danger.
More troubling still was the possibility that the Demon Slayer Corps had mastered a power akin to Blood Demon Arts. If so, their threat level had just increased exponentially.
"Nakime," Muzan said, turning toward a one-eyed female demon sitting behind him, playing a biwa. "Summon all the Lower and Upper Ranks to the Infinity Castle!"
Though Nakime was not a member of the Twelve Kizuki, she possessed strength on par with the Upper Ranks. Her Blood Demon Art involved spatial manipulation, allowing her to draw the Twelve Kizuki into Muzan's stronghold at a moment's notice.
The boy who killed Rui had unsettled Muzan. He needed intelligence. However, he would never move personally to investigate; he was paralyzed by the fear of death. Despite being the strongest creature on earth, capable of slaughtering any Hashira or wiping out the entire Corps, he never led from the front. He preferred to send his subordinates to die in his stead.
This cowardice stemmed from a singular encounter centuries ago with a swordsman named Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Muzan had thought he could kill the man easily, only to be nearly hacked to pieces.
To this day, the scars Yoriichi left—both on his body and his soul—burned with a phantom pain. Until he was absolutely certain of victory, he would not risk another face-to-face encounter with a slayer. What if another Yoriichi had been born?
...
Meanwhile, Goku followed Mita and the rest of the slayers toward the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. Located deep within a mountain range far from civilization, the base was a closely guarded secret. As a non-member, Goku was required to wear a blindfold during the journey.
Goku didn't mind. Mita explained that it was a necessary security measure to prevent the location from leaking to demons. Once Goku officially joined, he would be free to come and go as he pleased.
The headquarters was impressive—roughly the size of a small town, composed of numerous traditional wooden buildings. Goku was given a private room for the night. Mita, well aware of the boy's legendary appetite, ensured he was provided with enough food to keep him satisfied.
The next morning, Goku pushed open his door and bumped into Tanjiro, who was still carrying his wooden box, along with the blond boy and the boy with the boar mask.
"Good morning!" Goku greeted them with a cheerful wave.
"Hahaha! Goku! Let's duel! If I beat you, I'll be the strongest!" the boar-headed boy, Inosuke Hashibira, shouted. He charged forward like a wild beast. "Pig Assault!"
Thanks to Goku's intervention and his healing magic on the trail, the trio hadn't suffered permanent injuries. After a night's rest, they were back to full strength. However, since their Nichirin Swords had been shattered by the Father Demon, Inosuke was charging in bare-handed.
"A duel? I love duels!" Goku chirped.
He lightly hopped over Inosuke's frantic charge and delivered a swift leg sweep. With a dull thud, the boar-headed boy was knocked unconscious and slumped to the floor.
"Inosuke!" Tanjiro and the blond boy, Zenitsu Agatsuma, cried out in unison. They rushed over, bowing and apologizing profusely to Goku. They were once again awestruck by his power—Inosuke had been taken down in a single move.
"No need to apologize," Goku waved it off. "I love fighting. He's just a bit too weak right now; he needs to train a lot more."
"Goku!" a familiar voice called out. It was Mita.
"Morning, Uncle Mita."
"Good morning," Mita smiled. "Goku, Oyakata-sama—the Master of the Corps—wishes to see you. He wants to have a chat."
The previous night, after settling Goku in, Mita had been summoned for a private audience with the Master. It was a rare honor; the Master was often away or issued orders via crows.
Mita had spent the night recounting everything he knew about Goku—his strength, his strange abilities, and his character. It was clear the Master recognized Goku as a game-changing asset.
"Sure!" Goku nodded. Mita had told him the Master was the leader of the Corps, and if he wanted to learn Breathing Styles, he needed the leader's permission.
"You come too," Mita said, looking sympathetically at Tanjiro. "Make sure you explain your situation clearly and honestly. It's the only way you and your sister might survive."
For Goku, the meeting was a recruitment offer. For Tanjiro, it was a trial. He was about to face the collective judgment of the Master and the nine Hashira. If things went south, Tanjiro and Nezuko could be executed on the spot.
"I understand," Tanjiro said, taking a deep breath. He turned to Zenitsu. "Zenitsu, take Inosuke and go rest. I'll be back after I see the Master."
Zenitsu looked worried but eventually dragged the unconscious Inosuke away. Mita then led Goku and Tanjiro to the courtyard of the largest house in the center of the complex.
People were already waiting for them. Not the Master, but the nine most powerful swordsmen in the world: the Hashira.
Seven of them stood in the center of the courtyard, radiating immense, distinct auras. One stood in a far corner, silent and detached—the Water Hashira, Giyu Tomioka. Another, a young man with yellow eyes and a white snake draped around his neck, lounged casually on a tree branch above.
***
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