Hey Guys, what do you think of the Quality of this chapter? It's shorter than what I usually release.
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When a wolf enters a tiger's territory, it must obey the tiger's rules. But when a tiger enters the wolf's domain, it need not submit to the wolf's orders. This principle perfectly illustrated the power dynamics between the worlds of Hunter x Hunter and Demon Slayer, a clear case of a higher-level force suppressing a weaker one.
Though Oboro couldn't outright destroy this world's rules, he could easily manipulate its balance within the established limits.
In Demon Slayer, the power system revolved around the soul. Nearly all demons recalled their past lives upon death, with a revolving door appearing just as it had for the prostitute Taro and his sister Mei, who journeyed to hell after their demise.
The most iconic example was Upper Moon Three, Akaza. In truth, many demons perished through what amounted to suicide, their own souls destroying themselves.
The body and soul remained deeply intertwined. If the soul, the will, remained unshaken, a demon's regenerative abilities made it nearly impossible to kill without a Nichirin Sword. The stronger the demon, the more terrifying its healing capabilities, and the harder it was to destroy.
Though Oboro's soul had weakened, stripping him of his former Nen abilities, his experience and intuition remained intact. With his existing knowledge of souls alone, he stood at an unimaginable level within the Demon Slayer world.
Willpower was, after all, a cornerstone of any comprehensive strength system. No matter the circumstances, this principle held true.
By attacking and traumatizing the soul itself, one could kill a demon. And Oboro alone possessed this ability.
The swordsmen of this world, even the legendary Yoriichi Tsugikuni, likely couldn't touch the hidden dimension of the "soul." The techniques Oboro wielded could make demons die in endless torment or lose themselves in illusory "happiness."
This experiment only confirmed Oboro's theories. To this lower world, he was an enigma, a being of inexplicable power, capable of achieving the impossible.
---
"Master!"
A maid snapped out of her daze and rushed over in panic. When she saw the blood on Oboro's hands, she let out a startled scream.
"No problem. Let's go."
Oboro waved her off calmly, sheathing his sword with deliberate slowness.
A single strike had left his arm muscles screaming in protest. The surviving maid picked up his fallen haori and draped it over his shoulders. Abandoning their sedan chair, the three pressed on through the blood-stained mountain path, braving the biting wind and snow.
The two maids trembled in fear, but to Oboro, the incident was little more than a trivial detour. Before leaving, he cast a glance at the darkened house in the distance, there were survivors inside.
Moments after they vanished into the snow, a strange noise came from the room where candlelight had flickered earlier.
A wounded man stumbled out, clad in the uniform of the Demon Slayer Corps. His unfocused eyes stared in the direction Oboro had disappeared, disbelief etched across his face.
He had witnessed the impossible, a man killing a demon with an ordinary sword.
How?
As a seasoned B-rank Demon Slayer, he could tell at a glance whether a blade was a Nichirin Sword or not.
Originally, he had come to investigate reports of demon activity on the mountain. Travelers had been disappearing, and his crow had led him here.
With his skills, dispatching the demon should have been simple. But then, a group of fleeing refugees had stumbled into the attack.
The demon used them as leverage, beating him, imprisoning him, and forcing him to watch as it devoured people alive.
Then, another arrival had drawn the demon's attention.
This time, however, it met its match.
Its invisibility meant nothing in the dark. A single flash of steel, and it was dead.
The swordsman, barely twenty years old, clenched his fists.
"Not a trainer… not a member of the Corps… I've never felt a breath like that before."
His name was Liu Yuan, and he owed that stranger his life.
"I should thank them… but first, I must report this."
---
By the next day, Oboro and his companions had reached the town at the foot of Mount Kumotori.
Realizing the swordsman might pursue them, Oboro had taken a detour, letting the heavy snowfall erase their tracks.
After a brief rest at an inn, he began his ascent to meet Kamado Tanjuro, or one of his descendants, at least. The exact generational gap was unclear.
The town was small, and Tanjuro was easy to locate, he was known for selling charcoal, much like Tanjiro in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Oboro had just missed him; Tanjuro had descended days prior and wouldn't return soon.
The town itself was peaceful, spared from the wars ravaging the land. But the mountain path proved treacherous, steep, icy, and exhausting even for seasoned travelers.
"My body is too weak," Oboro thought, his head throbbing. "I must resolve the blood issue soon."
Yet ordinary demon blood held no appeal. Only the Upper Ranks would suffice.
As dusk approached, they finally reached a small clearing where a house stood nestled among the trees.
A young boy, no older than seven or eight, was chopping firewood, his cheeks flushed from effort. His patched kimono and straw sandals spoke of humble means, but his dark, bright eyes were full of warmth.
Hearing their approach, he set down his axe and bowed politely.
"Ah, hello!"
Oboro coughed lightly into a handkerchief before smiling. "May I have your name?"
"Tanjiro. My name is Tanjiro Kamado."
"Hello, Tanjiro. I'm Oboro. Pleased to meet you."
A cold wind swept through, sending snow swirling around Oboro's figure. To Tanjiro, the man seemed almost ethereal, his haori billowing, his features more striking than any he'd ever seen. The interplay of light and landscape made the moment feel like a scene from a painting.
For a heartbeat, Tanjiro stood frozen.
Then, the sound of a door opening broke the spell.
"Father!" he called, his face flushing as he turned toward the house. "We have visitors!"