Chapter 113: The 'Mu' in Muzan Stands for Incompetent Rage
Once the chilling reality of demons was laid bare, Tanjuro wasted no time preparing his family for departure.
A lingering unease gnawed at him. For years, he had felt the weight of hidden gazes piercing through the midnight darkness around their secluded home. He had always brushed them off as prowling mountain beasts, but now, his finely honed intuition told a different story. At least some of those eyes belonged to something far more sinister.
Wild animals naturally shunned human settlements. Only the most desperate, starving predators—those who had failed to stockpile enough fat for the bitter winter—would ever risk hunting humans to stave off the freezing cold. Unless driven by absolute starvation, the creatures of the forest simply did not spy on human dwellings with such persistent focus.
Yet, those midnight gazes had lingered through all four seasons.
It was a glaring anomaly, one Tanjuro simply hadn't paid enough attention to in the past. Now, armed with the knowledge that demons might be actively targeting his bloodline, those strange sightings made his blood run cold. He could easily dispatch any wild beast the mountain threw at him, but when it came to unnatural, flesh-eating monsters, he wasn't entirely certain he could protect his wife and children.
He had only delayed their departure this long because he had made a prior promise to Kanzaki Akira, and because their meager finances truly didn't allow for a sudden, distant relocation.
Now that Akira had arrived with a concrete plan to escort them away, a heavy burden lifted from Tanjuro's chest. He knew his own failing body didn't have many years left, but his wife and children still had long, bright futures ahead of them.
Because they had mentally prepared for the move, packing was a swift affair. There wasn't much they actually needed to carry; Akira had assured them that a fully stocked Safe House awaited them, complete with all necessary daily provisions. Though the frugal family felt a pang of reluctance leaving behind their worn bedding and familiar household items, they trusted the young swordsman and didn't voice any complaints.
Finally, the group set off down the mountain alongside Akira, carrying only a few bundles of dry rations and fresh changes of clothes.
When they reached the base of the trail, the Kamado family stopped in their tracks, staring in mild shock at the transport waiting for them. The carriage was massive, far larger than any standard horse-drawn cart they had ever seen.
Tanjiro and Nezuko leaned in, their eyes wide with innocent curiosity. "Brother Akira," Tanjiro asked, pointing at the thick, heavy tarps completely blacking out the windows. "Why is this carriage wrapped up so tightly?"
"Is it for the two—no, three people inside?"
Before Akira could offer an explanation, Tanjuro stepped forward, his voice calm but laced with a sharp, perceptive edge.
During their descent, Tanjuro had learned the fundamental rule of demon biology: they would burn to ash beneath the sun. Using his unique vision, he could clearly perceive three distinct biological structures resting inside the darkened cabin—structures that were fundamentally different from ordinary humans. Given the excessively sealed nature of the carriage, he deduced that the two humanoid figures and the single feline presence inside had to be demons.
Yet, a question lingered in his mind. Did demons capable of peacefully coexisting with humans actually exist?
"Yes, there are three very special demons inside," Akira replied, nodding with a reassuring smile. "They don't consume human flesh, and they've actually saved countless lives over the years."
Though Tamayo hadn't shared the exhaustive details of her past, Akira knew she had practiced medicine for centuries. Even if her house calls were limited by her inability to walk in the daylight, her medical expertise had undoubtedly pulled many from the brink of death.
Compared to the instinctive, protective wariness the adults felt toward the creatures of the night, the children were wonderfully simple-minded. Tanjiro and Nezuko stared at the reinforced carriage with sparkling eyes, eager to peek inside and see these legendary, benevolent demons for themselves.
Hearing the muffled commotion outside, Kanae, who had remained inside the cabin to keep their passengers company, gently pushed open the heavy door and stepped out into the sunlight.
"Akira-kun," she said, offering a warm, graceful smile. "Are these the people we are escorting today?"
"Yes, this is the Kamado family."
Kanae's timely appearance allowed Akira to smoothly shift the focus, formally introducing the beloved former Hashira to Tanjuro and his family. Her gentle demeanor instantly put the mountain family at ease.
With both Akira and Kanae offering their personal assurances, Tanjuro finally relaxed his guard, leading his wife and children up the wooden steps and into the carriage one by one. With a crack of the reins, the heavy transport turned around, rolling steadily toward the pre-arranged Safe House.
Their destination wasn't terribly far from Mount Kumotori. At their current pace, they were expected to arrive by nightfall the following day. If they needed to stop and resupply at a passing town, it might delay them slightly, but the journey would be brief. The Safe House had been strategically chosen for its proximity—only a day's travel from the Butterfly Mansion—ensuring Tanjuro could easily receive ongoing medical treatment.
While years of unconscious, extreme overexertion meant his frail body could never fully return to its prime, proper care could at least halt the deterioration, granting him precious extra years to watch his children grow.
However, as the heavy wooden wheels rolled further away, a sinister presence lingered behind.
Deep in the distant, shadowed woods, a bizarre, fleshy eyeball hung upside down from the underside of a thick oak branch. It stared unblinking at the departing carriage, tracking its exact trajectory. Etched deeply into the center of its dark pupil was the jagged kanji for 'Five'.
Only when the carriage finally vanished beyond the horizon did the grotesque eye dissolve into nothingness, accompanied by the sharp, echoing strum of a biwa.
Deep within the impossible, shifting geometry of the Infinity Castle.
Kibutsuji Muzan stood on a wooden platform overlooking Nakime, his pale face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. The air around him felt heavy, suffocating beneath the weight of his murderous intent.
"Are you telling me," Muzan's voice was dangerously quiet, a venomous hiss that echoed through the endless wooden halls, "that the family I explicitly ordered you to monitor just ran off with the exact same Demon Slayer who killed Gyokko?"
"Yes, Muzan-sama," Nakime replied, her single eye fixed on her biwa, her tone flat and emotionless. "Because it is currently daytime in the outside world, I cannot safely deploy my familiars to track them."
Muzan's jaw locked. A vein pulsed violently at his temple. Lately, it felt as though the entire world was conspiring against him.
First, Gyokko—the Upper Rank most suited for gathering intelligence and generating funds—had been slaughtered. Then, just days ago, Muzan had sifted through Hantengu's memories and caught a glimpse of Tamayo, the treacherous demon who had shattered his control centuries ago. Yet, despite having her cornered, Hantengu had not only failed to capture the traitor, but he had also completely failed to eliminate the very swordsman responsible for Gyokko's death.
And now, to add insult to injury, the secluded mountain family he had accidentally discovered—the ones he deeply suspected of harboring the dreaded Sun Breathing inheritance—was slipping right through his fingers.
He would never, under any circumstances, admit that his own paralyzing cowardice was the reason he hadn't personally marched up to the Kamado house to slaughter them in their sleep.
It was all Tsugikuni Yoriichi's fault.
Why did that monster have to pass down Sun Breathing? Why did he have to leave behind those accursed hanafuda earrings? Just the thought of running into a swordsman wearing those earrings during a midnight stroll was enough to make Muzan's blood boil with a sickening mixture of rage and terror.
No. That man's techniques must be erased from this earth! I will absolutely not allow another monster like him to rise within the Demon Slayer Corps!
Muzan's mind raced, bordering on frantic. He violently sifted through the shared consciousness of his remaining subordinates, desperately searching for a demon with exceptional tracking capabilities.
With a vast enough army, specialized talents were bound to emerge. After a deliberate, forceful search through the hive mind, Muzan finally located a lesser demon perfectly suited for the hunt.
Next came the matter of choosing the executioner.
He certainly couldn't go himself. As the supreme Demon King, such menial assassination tasks were beneath his dignity—or so he fiercely told himself.
He immediately ruled out Hantengu and the Gyutaro siblings. If this mysterious swordsman had already killed Gyokko and calmly escaped Hantengu's grasp, sending them again would be a foolish gamble. Nakime, while useful, possessed absolutely zero direct combat capabilities.
Looking higher up the ranks, Kokushibo was currently occupied far away, and Muzan was highly reluctant to directly interface with his strongest subordinate's consciousness right now. Doma was entirely out of the question; the sociopathic cult leader would treat the mission as a trivial game and likely let the targets slip away out of sheer boredom.
The choice, then, was obvious.
"Summon Akaza."
As for why he didn't simply dispatch multiple Upper Ranks at once to ensure absolute victory? That, too, stemmed from Muzan's deeply ingrained paranoia.
Seeing Tamayo again had violently reminded him that his absolute control over his bloodline was not infallible. The Upper Ranks were devastatingly powerful. If he gathered them all in one place and they somehow managed to collectively break his curse, they would pose a genuine, lethal threat to his life.
The mere existence of Tamayo forced Muzan to constantly wonder if the others would eventually figure out how to sever their connection to him. Even if the statistical probability was infinitesimally small, Kibutsuji Muzan was not a man who gambled with his own life.
Meanwhile, inside the rhythmic swaying of the carriage, Tanjuro suddenly turned his head, staring blankly at the reinforced wooden wall behind him. His brows knit together in mild confusion.
"What's wrong?" Akira asked immediately, pausing his ongoing inquiry about the intricacies of the See-Through World.
"Just now... something was watching us," Tanjuro murmured, his sightless eyes seeming to pierce through the heavy timber. "It felt exactly the same as the prying eyes I felt around the house a few days ago."
Akira's expression instantly sobered.
For a presence to trigger Tanjuro's finely tuned instincts and repeatedly spy on the Kamado family, it was almost certainly a demon. But it was the middle of the day. The autumn winds had stripped the trees bare, leaving virtually no shadows large enough to conceal a normal-sized human, let alone a fully grown demon.
Unless the creature was incredibly small, or possessed some sort of detached surveillance method...
Connecting the concepts of 'small size'and'remote surveillance', a specific, highly dangerous demon immediately surfaced in Akira's mind.
Nakime.
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