"I don't mean to mock you," James said casually, his eyes scanning the figure before him. "I'm just really curious—what kind of creature are you?"
He had to stay in character. After all, this was technically his first time encountering a demon in person. And truth be told, he was surprised—mostly by how absolutely awful the thing smelled.
Thank goodness I didn't choose the demon king's body in this world. I can't imagine walking around with that stench.
Across from him, Daki squinted, clearly trying to size him up.
"Another Demon Slayer? No… that's not right. You don't smell like one."
Her voice was thick with suspicion as she eyed his outfit. He didn't wear the uniform of the Corps, and the blade in his hand didn't carry the familiar aura of a Nichirin Sword.
"How ridiculous! A mere human who's not even a Demon Slayer dares to challenge me? You're courting death!"
With a snarl, Daki snapped her wrist. A belt, sharp and fast, whipped toward him like a blur.
"Mr. James—look out!" Tanjiro shouted hoarsely. Despite his injuries, he pushed himself upright, only to stumble and collapse again.
"Nezuko! Help—!"
There was a loud airburst. Daki's belt sliced through the air—but struck nothing. Her eyes widened.
She looked down—Tanjiro was gone.
Then, slowly, her head turned. Behind her, James stood silently, holding the unconscious boy in his arms.
Tch. This kid's practically made of blood and luck. James glanced down at Tanjiro. Still standing after all that? What a protagonist.
He quietly transferred some energy into Tanjiro's body, stabilizing his injuries for the time being.
"Mr. James… that's an evil demon," Tanjiro gasped. "We're… ghost hunters—cough—"
"I know." James laid him down gently. "You focus on healing. I'll handle this."
He stood, facing Daki again.
"So…" He tilted his head. "Now it's our time, right? Demon, was it?"
His tone dropped, eyes narrowing as his aura subtly shifted.
"You—!" Daki snarled, but before she could finish, a blur of motion slammed into her.
Bam!
A pink-eyed girl with a bamboo muzzle had kicked her square in the chest. Nezuko.
James blinked. "This one's yours too, Tanjiro?"
Tanjiro flailed. "N-no! I mean—yes! She's my sister! Please, Mr. James, don't hurt her!"
James raised an eyebrow. "Messy situation. She doesn't look too stable... Do I need to subdue her?"
"Please," Tanjiro nodded. "But gently…"
James cracked his knuckles. "Leave it to me."
Daki screeched, ribbons lashing out wildly in every direction. The air cracked as they flew toward Nezuko and James.
But in an instant, James unsheathed his blade—then resheathed it.
Slash!
The ribbons disintegrated midair. Pink silk fluttered down like cherry blossoms.
"So fast…" Tanjiro whispered, eyes wide.
James vanished again, reappearing beside Nezuko. Her eyes were dazed. Before she could react, his palm gently pressed against her forehead.
Boom!
The force sent a wave of air blasting backward, lifting tiles off the rooftop. Nezuko's pupils contracted before she fainted.
James brought her over and laid her beside Tanjiro.
Then he turned back—and saw him.
A gaunt man emerged from the shadows beside Daki. He had blue hair, sickly pale skin, and twisted limbs. His voice wheezed with every breath.
"My dear sister…" he rasped. "He's not someone you can handle. He's… handsome, strong… not like ugly ol' me."
His eyes bulged with jealousy. "So jealous… so jealous!!"
Tanjiro froze, every cell in his body screaming danger.
"That… what is that thing…?"
His breath trembled. He recognized the aura.
Upper Rank Six.
But now there were two of them. Was this a fusion of two demons? Or had he misunderstood?
Mr. Uzui… Zenitsu… Inosuke… please hurry.
He tried to draw in more breath, accelerating his recovery.
—
Far away, Uzui Tengen was evacuating civilians. After clearing out a large group tangled in ribbons, he suddenly looked up.
"This way!" he yelled, and dashed forward at blinding speed.
Zenitsu and Inosuke heard his call and scrambled to catch up.
—
Back on the battlefield, James remained still, composed.
He wasn't shaken by Upper Six.
Gyuutarou grinned, scythes in hand. With a sudden lurch, he lunged.
Clang!
James drew his sword and met the attack head-on. Sparks exploded. Dust scattered. The sheer pressure sent tremors rippling through the rooftops.
"You're strong," Gyuutarou hissed. "You blocked my scythe."
He slashed again, again—each swing faster and more violent than the last.
James moved fluidly, deflecting each attack with one hand. His blade whirled like water, matching every strike.
Afterimages blurred in every direction.
Gyuutarou cackled.
James's eyes narrowed.
Enough playing.
He gripped his blade with both hands.
The shift in pressure was immediate.
The sword light intensified, flooding the space around them. The clash of weapons echoed through the air like thunder.
Chop. Slash. Stab. Parry.
James flowed through forms instinctively, guided by deep-rooted swordsmanship. His footwork was sharp, precise. Every angle of attack was unpredictable. Every counter was clean.
Dozens of gashes appeared across Gyuutarou's body—but each one healed instantly, blood hissing on contact with air.
James gritted his teeth.
He heals too fast. I need to end this cleanly.
Then—
Danger.
A warning twinge ran down his spine. He leapt back just in time.
Gyuutarou sneered. "Too late!"
"Blood Demon Art: Blood Scythe Storm!"
His spilled blood twisted into countless spinning sickles, rushing toward James from every direction.
James frowned.
Poison. I can't let a single one touch me. I'm no ninja—I don't have poison resistance like Uzui.
There was no room to dodge.
Only one choice.
James planted his feet and inhaled deeply.
"Revolving Heaven!"
With a shout, his blade erupted with energy. Sword light spun outward, forming a barrier of cutting wind. The rotating force shredded everything around him—the ribbons, the sickles, the poison.
A spiraling storm shot forward, ripping toward Gyuutarou like a vortex of blades.
Gyuutarou roared.
"Blood Demon Art: Circular Slash, Blood Tornado!"
His arms spun violently, transforming into crimson cyclones.
The two forces collided—
BOOM!!!
An explosion split the sky. Light blazed like a second sunrise. Sand and rubble flew in all directions.
Even Uzui Tengen—still kilometers away—could see the blast.
When the dust settled, two figures stood apart, both breathing heavily.
James looked down at his sword.
Broken.
Only the hilt remained in his hand.
Across from him, Gyuutarou's arms were completely severed. Blood sprayed across the ground.
They stared at each other in silence.
"You're strong," Gyuutarou growled, panting. "But look at you. Sword's broken. My arms'll grow back soon."
He grinned. "I win."
James smiled.
He twisted his neck until it cracked. Then casually sheathed the shattered hilt.
"Yeah, your hands'll grow back."
He rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles.
"But I also know a little boxing."
Just then, a blur dropped from the sky.
Crash!
Dust flared—and Uzui Tengen appeared, blades gleaming, eyes sharp.
"Looks like I made it just in time," he said with a grin.
James smiled. "Your luck's pretty bad, demon. Round two starts now."
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
pàtreøn (Gk31)