—He said what?
Inori's expression shifted to something between confusion and genuine suspicion. She almost wondered if her ears had stopped working.
...This man was seriously inviting her to serve under him? He was the ultimate villain — centuries of carnage behind him, countless innocents bled dry, entire families given over to grief.
But that wasn't even the worst of it. For all his credentials as a final boss, Muzan had none of the presence the title deserved. He didn't trust his own subordinates. Lacked the resolve to face his enemies head-on. The moment anyone posed so much as a marginal threat to him, he vanished — surviving by sheer attrition, outlasting opponents on the advantage of an absurd lifespan.
There was no version of this where Inori served someone like that. And if she ever did pretend to, it would only be to smile to his face and stab him in the back the first chance she got.
"Why would I ever serve you?"
"I can offer you protection. Creatures like us — walking through this world carries its own dangers. You've felt that already, haven't you?"
Kibutsuji Muzan considered this, one hand thoughtfully at his chin, before speaking.
He was genuinely surprised, if he was honest. Aside from a handful of demons who'd displayed extraordinary aptitude immediately after conversion — Upper Rank One, Kokushibo, being the most extreme example — it was rare for him to simply induct a demon straight into the Twelve Kizuki. Even rarer when she hadn't been converted by him directly, hadn't been brought into the fold through any conventional means.
As far as Muzan was concerned, the personal invitation he was extending constituted a profound honor — though he had no intention of using this girl as a typical subordinate. What he wanted wasn't her strength.
It was the blood inside that fragile body.
Blood capable of overcoming sunlight.
"That does sound... reasonable."
Inori nodded, looking thoughtful.
A small spark of satisfaction lit inside Muzan. He knew that once he got this girl back to Infinity Castle — no matter how powerful she was — she'd have no choice but to become the vessel he needed. Still, he preferred to avoid unnecessary fighting if he could help it. The most elegant approach: offer her his blood as a "reward," use that exchange to take hers, and from there identify whatever gave her immunity to sunlight.
"If I join the Twelve Kizuki, Lord Muzan would protect me properly... right?"
Inori's eyes shimmered with tentative hope, wide and rosy as she gazed up at him. Her fingers laced together and fidgeted anxiously. She looked, in every way, like an earnest little rabbit.
"That goes without saying."
Muzan smiled, satisfied. She was coming around.
"And I'll do my very best to protect you too~" the white-haired demon with the rainbow-colored eyes added warmly, smile still in place. "You're called Inori, aren't you? I hope you won't mind if I call you Little Inori from here on!"
Upper Rank Two had the "warm older-brother type" aesthetic going for him — that androgynous, pretty-boy face paired with a gentle, accommodating Onee-san manner. If his arc ever made it into the anime, he'd probably pull in a substantial female fanbase.
Inori was mildly irritated by his presumption, though this wasn't the moment to act on it.
"Lord Muzan — if I may ask one more question... which position in the Twelve Kizuki are you planning to give me?"
She couldn't help her curiosity.
"My Lower Rank Three died recently. That was your doing, I imagine."
"You can stand in for him for now."
"Eh? That low?" Inori's lips pushed into a pout.
"Positions in the Kizuki are ranked by strength. If you're confident in yourself, you're free to challenge a higher-ranking demon to a Blood Battle for their spot."
Kibutsuji Muzan explained this with patience.
"These two had their positions reversed at first, but Doma later challenged Akaza and won."
Akaza — Upper Rank Three — looked at Muzan with a complicated, unreadable expression. He hadn't anticipated that Lord Muzan, normally so coldly pragmatic, would take this much personal interest in a single demon girl. If she had the capability, there was no reason not to simply grant her an Upper Rank position directly; making her climb from Lower Rank was entirely unnecessary.
—Lord Muzan... what is he actually after today?
"Ah~ so if I work hard enough, I can reach a higher position. Is that it?"
Inori pressed a finger to her lips, crimson eyes open wide.
"Exactly. And if you achieve enough, I'll reward you with more of my blood."
So a demon's strength was tied to how much of Muzan's blood they received — which made sense, since he was the source of all demons. Those who couldn't handle the influx would simply rupture, so stronger demons needed to keep eating humans and killing Hashira to earn more blood and trigger the transformation that changed everything.
"That actually sounds wonderful. I genuinely feel myself being tempted."
Inori laughed, chin in hand, looking thoroughly charmed.
Then the smile cut off.
The guileless look vanished from her eyes in an instant, replaced by something sharp and cold.
"But I refuse."
"...?"
"One of my absolute favorite things is telling people who think they're above everyone else... no~"
She smiled — confident and completely at ease — in a way that was nothing short of contemptuous.
Muzan's next motion stalled, visibly. Red veins crept across his eyes like fractures in glass.
—What is wrong with this woman?
—If you weren't going to agree, why ask so many questions? Why not just refuse from the beginning?
Kibutsuji Muzan had never truly expected pure persuasion to work on Inori. That was precisely why he'd brought his two most trusted Upper Rank demons to set this ambush. Even so — she'd deliberately played along, let hope kindle, then flipped it in his face. He felt, for the first time in a very long while, the hollow sensation of anticipation denied.
No demon had ever refused him. Let alone done it with this kind of deliberate cruelty.
"Have you thought this through? Do you understand what refusing me means?"
His fingers tapped lightly against the table. The two Upper Rank demons at his back began radiating an unmistakably hostile killing intent.
An ordinary person would have been reduced to a trembling mess. Inori felt nothing. A few angry wild dogs, however furiously they bared their teeth, could not frighten a hawk circling overhead.
"Weren't you expelled from the Demon Slayer Corps? Why won't you join us, Little Inori~" Doma pressed one hand dramatically to his cheek and arranged his features into an expression of deep, heartfelt sorrow.
Inori had the sudden impression that this man was profoundly theatrical. Every gesture, every glance, every manufactured smile felt like a performance — and because Inori herself was reasonably skilled at that kind of act, she recognized Doma's responses for exactly what they were. Pure theater, all the way down.
"It's simple."
"Because you're not worthy."
A casual answer. And yet there was nothing more direct or effective.
Muzan's expression darkened. Doma smiled and said nothing. Akaza was the one who came closest to losing his composure — that response had been a comprehensive rejection of everything they were.
But he didn't move. Lord Muzan was present. Without his signal, no one was permitted to act.
Any demon worth summoning two Upper Ranks to personally ambush was not a simple target. Akaza didn't rush.
"You want me to serve you? That's backwards, Mr. Muzan."
"You and yours are the ones who should be kneeling to me."
Inori's smile held nothing but malice.
She'd already made her peace with it. The moment she stepped into this world, a fight with Kibutsuji Muzan had always been inevitable. If she killed him, that wouldn't solve everything. But it would be a start.
"Then there's nothing left to discuss."
"I'll have to take you back by force... Inori!"
Muzan's voice turned cold in an instant.
"That's exactly what I was hoping for."
She paused.
"I... also want to try killing you... Kibutsuji Muzan."