Kokushibo knelt before the creator of demons with practiced reverence, lowering his head as though nothing had changed.
"My lord."
Even after severing himself from Muzan Kibutsuji's control, he still had to maintain appearances. One careless mistake would expose everything.
Muzan sat in silence atop the raised platform of the Infinity Castle, his expression calm and unreadable, yet a faint unease lingered beneath the surface. Ever since the incident with Akaza and Doma, a sense of instability had continued to gnaw at him.
Fortunately, Kokushibo remained obedient or at least appeared to.
Had Kokushibo truly turned against him, matters would have become troublesome beyond measure.
"My lord, I obtained an unusually rare blood by chance."
Kokushibo presented the remaining blood stored inside the bamboo container from the previous night.
Drink it.
Only after you lose yourself can I guide your thoughts where I want them to go.
At present, Muzan could no longer freely peer into Kokushibo's memories. Through the fragmented recollections he had taken from Akaza and Doma, however, he recognized this blood immediately.
It was the same blood that had reduced the Upper Rank demons to disgraceful drunken fools.
Even now, recalling those memories irritated him.
The mighty Upper Ranks behaving like intoxicated idiots it was utterly humiliating.
Kokushibo removed the stopper.
The fragrance of blood instantly spread throughout the chamber.
Even Muzan's eyes narrowed slightly in surprise.
"This scent…"
For a demon who had consumed humans for over a thousand years, very little could still stimulate his appetite. Yet the aroma before him was absurdly enticing.
Kokushibo poured a full cup.
Muzan accepted it without hesitation and drank everything in a single swallow.
The sweetness spread through his body like warm fire.
For a brief moment, even Muzan felt strangely satisfied.
"…Excellent."
Kokushibo lowered his gaze slightly.
"It truly was exceptional blood. Unfortunately, I killed the human too quickly during the hunt. Only this amount remained."
A flicker of regret crossed Muzan's eyes.
What a waste.
A human possessing blood of this quality should have been preserved carefully, bred over generations, and cultivated like a precious resource.
Although blood like this would not significantly increase his strength, its flavor alone was enough to make him value it.
After a millennium of searching endlessly for a way to conquer the sun, was it so wrong to indulge in something pleasant?
Muzan slowly exhaled, regaining his usual composure.
"Kokushibo," he said, narrowing his crimson eyes, "you once said the Blue Spider Lily would bloom soon."
Kokushibo had expected the question long ago.
"Yes, my lord. However, Tamayo remains hidden. She likely intends to wait until the true Blue Spider Lily appears before revealing herself."
Muzan's gaze sharpened faintly.
Something about those words carried a deeper implication.
Yet because he could no longer read Kokushibo's thoughts directly, he failed to grasp the hidden meaning.
Kokushibo continued calmly.
"My lord, I believe your attention should not remain fixed solely upon the Blue Spider Lily."
"There are still several years before its appearance. During that time, it would be wiser to expand your influence further."
"Create more demons. Spread them throughout the country. Increase the number of eyes and ears searching for Tamayo."
"And…"
Kokushibo paused briefly before finishing.
"If a demon capable of conquering sunlight truly appears, such a being would undoubtedly be more reliable than a flower whose existence remains uncertain."
The atmosphere became oddly surreal.
It was as if the strongest demon beneath Muzan was calmly instructing the Demon King himself on how to proceed.
Ordinarily, Muzan despised receiving advice from anyone.
But as Kokushibo spoke, he continuously refilled Muzan's cup with the diluted blood.
Little by little, the intoxicating effects deepened.
Muzan's thoughts loosened.
"Yes… yes, that would work…"
"I should do that first… then eliminate this obstacle…"
A faint flush appeared across his pale face.
Kokushibo judged the timing to be sufficient.
The suggestion had already taken root in Muzan's mind. That alone was enough.
He had no interest in lingering further.
Ignoring Muzan's drunken muttering, Kokushibo turned toward the biwa player seated quietly nearby.
Nakime.
For centuries, he had rarely paid attention to her appearance. He knew only that she possessed a single eye hidden behind heavy black hair.
Now, out of simple curiosity, he stepped closer and gently brushed aside her bangs.
"…Hm."
Even Kokushibo had to admit the sight was unsettling.
Nakime did not react with anger. Her lone eye merely stared at him in silence.
"Where are you going, Lord Kokushibo?"
Kokushibo noticed something strange hidden within that gaze something resembling envy or attachment but he chose not to dwell on it.
"Return me to my residence," he said calmly. "Thank you, Nakime."
With a soft strum of the biwa, space distorted.
After Kokushibo departed, Nakime quietly turned her eye toward Muzan.
Normally, blood alone should not have been enough to intoxicate him to this extent.
But Muzan's mind had long been burdened by fear, frustration, and obsession.
The blood had merely opened the floodgates.
"Bring me my kimono," Muzan suddenly ordered.
He slammed his hand against the table as flesh rippled across his body.
Bones shifted.
Muscles twisted.
In moments, the elegant male appearance vanished completely.
Long black hair cascaded down his back. His frame became slender and feminine once more, perfectly beautiful and utterly unnatural.
Muzan tore at the collar of his Western suit with visible irritation.
"This clothing is unbearable."
The expensive fabric shredded apart beneath his fingers.
Soon, only scraps remained scattered across the floor.
Nakime silently brought several wardrobes before him through the Infinity Castle.
Muzan inspected each garment carefully.
"This one is ugly."
"Too bright."
"Disgusting."
"Nakime. Bring different styles."
Nakime obeyed immediately.
Using her Blood Demon Art, she shifted a large clothing store directly into the Infinity Castle itself, swallowing the entire building whole.
Shelves, displays, and racks of clothing appeared across the endless wooden chambers.
Muzan spent nearly half an hour selecting an outfit.
After all that time, he ultimately chose
A plain black kimono nearly identical to the one he had worn previously.
Nakime stared silently.
Even the design was outdated by decades.
Apparently, Muzan's sense of fashion remained as incomprehensible as ever.
Meanwhile, far from the Infinity Castle, Kokushibo contemplated another matter entirely.
Kamado Tanjuro.
The father of Kamado Tanjiro.
As far as Kokushibo knew, Tanjuro was the sole remaining inheritor of Sun Breathing.
That alone made him dangerous.
Still, Kokushibo did not intend to act rashly.
In the original flow of events, Tanjuro had appeared only briefly through memories and flashbacks. His true combat ability remained uncertain.
Despite his frail body and sickly appearance, Kokushibo refused to underestimate anyone connected to Yoriichi Tsugikuni's legacy.
That was caution.
True caution.
Entirely different from Muzan's cowardice.
After careful consideration, Kokushibo decided to continue observing for now.
Preparation came first.
Still…
He felt as though he had forgotten something important.
Kokushibo frowned slightly and searched through his memories, yet nothing surfaced.
Elsewhere, deep within the mountains
A wild boar-headed child rampaged through the forest like an unstoppable beast.
Hashibira Inosuke had already become the undisputed ruler of the mountain.
Wearing his boar mask proudly, he dashed through the woods without fear, frightening away every animal in his path.
Within these mountains, he believed himself invincible.
At some point, he noticed a newly sewn pair of trousers left nearby.
Inosuke immediately became vigilant.
"Who left this here?"
After several moments of thought, he arrived at a conclusion.
"The mountain god must've rewarded me!"
Bursting into loud laughter, he proudly put on the trousers before striking a triumphant pose beneath the trees.
Meanwhile, Kokushibo finally gave up trying to remember what he had forgotten.
"…It is probably unimportant."
His attention remained focused entirely upon the future of the world and the shifting flow of fate.
Completely unaware…
That the forgotten variable was already growing stronger within the mountains.