"Do you want to become a demon? And why is that?"
Muzan scrutinized Doma more closely after hearing this request.
In his long life, he had usually been the one forcing people into this fate.
Of course, there were cases like Michikatsu Tsugikuni, otherwise known as Kokushibo.
Muzan had offered him that path, but a situation like Doma's was a first.
"Because I think it's truly necessary to become a demon," Doma reflected for a moment before offering a vague yet honest response.
But he continued, noticing that his words hadn't satisfied the progenitor of demons.
"I also feel like it will bring interesting changes and more opportunities to my wretched life."
Finally, the dangerous aura Muzan had begun to exude due to Doma's initial response subsided.
He once again radiated curiosity and interest.
'He's indeed a different specimen from before, seeing hope in me rather than death or an abomination.'
Muzan took Doma's cheeks in his hands as a hopeful expression slowly formed on the cult leader's face.
An act, for his heart maintained an indifferent stance. There was no fear, no repulsion, no urgent desire, no great expectation.
The tender expression on Muzan's face quickly faded after noticing something unusual.
From a human perspective, his movement was imperceptible, but the demon struck Doma in the chest.
Doma didn't grasp the situation before his body was sent flying through the air, crashing through several walls.
"Cough, cough…"
He coughed and spat out a throatful of blood after attempting to stand.
A pool of blood formed on the ground, slowly fed by his wounds.
The bones in his chest seemed shattered, with fragments piercing his internal organs.
Gravely injured, he decided to remain seated there.
"Oh my, have I been rejected?"
Doma displayed a disappointed expression devoid of genuine emotion, looking up at the figure slowly approaching.
"Demon-san, are you going to eat me?"
The question was asked in an amused tone, but Doma's eyes would unsettle anyone.
Especially as he tilted his head in an attempt to appear "cute," like a spoiled child.
A tactic he often used against the sect's followers to avoid trouble.
Muzan stopped in front of him, his eyes fixed on Doma's.
"It's not impossible, but…"
He paused before leaning toward Doma's broken body.
Muzan looked into his eyes once more, as if… searching to confirm something.
Finally, he saw it clearly.
An abyssal void.
He'd had suspicions due to Doma's fearless demeanor in the face of his bloodlust or the carnage he'd wrought.
But a suspicion is different from confirmation, isn't it?
"A human without emotions?" Muzan mocked, extending his hand toward Doma.
'He is indeed an unprecedented specimen,' he concluded mentally, having made his decision.
'I still have some emotions!'
Doma wanted to retort, but he was interrupted by a sharp pain at the top of his head.
Muzan had pierced his brain with a finger, beginning to inject his blood into his body.
A horrific burning sensation spread from his head to every inch of his being.
Every cell in his flesh seemed to tear apart, every bone seemed to shatter and reform.
Doma writhed on the ground as the pain overwhelmed his mind, rendering him helpless, his body convulsing instinctively from the unprecedented suffering.
Yet his inhuman mind remained functional under the sensory onslaught.
A blessing, as it allowed him to avoid thoughts about the future or Jay, but also a curse.
Doma could feel everything clearly, processing the pain as mere physical information without losing consciousness.
A nightmare.
"I hope you can bring me a little surprise."
That was Muzan's final statement before he left the young lord of the Eternal Paradise Faith sect.
…
It took the entire night for the all-consuming pain to fade from his being.
It was replaced by a sensation of exceptional strength and vigor, but also an insatiable hunger.
Doma rose slowly.
His blond hair was now streaked with splashes of blood at the crown, and sharp fangs had grown in his mouth.
Muzan was already gone, but the instinct of the blood conveyed this message:
'Muzan Kibutsuji is the one you must absolutely obey from now on.'
An instinct Doma found laughable, for it could not tame his "mind."
Beyond that, the massive energy consumed during his transformation into a demon triggered an urgent hunger within him.
Doma sniffed, catching a bloody scent, his mouth beginning to salivate profusely.
But his rationality hadn't succumbed to the instinct to feed on a disciple of his sect.
His analytical mind had been surprising him more and more lately, but it was also the cause of all these problems.
"Hmm, it smells really good, but…" Doma shook his head after noticing his thoughts about the corpse Muzan had left behind.
"Now's not the time to eat."
Dawn was approaching.
Doma couldn't give in to his instincts in such a situation, unless he could devour quickly, like his manga counterpart.
To that end, Doma needed to better understand what he was now capable of.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and felt his body—more precisely, his blood.
A vibrant, vital force.
Without any prior instruction, he gently activated his Blood Demon Art.
He didn't know how, but Doma knew he was capable of it.
With a slight movement of his finger, a cold, white mist filled the room's air.
He was initially surprised by the manifestation of his power but didn't lose focus.
He tried to sculpt something.
Thus, an exquisite and magnificent ice crystal lotus floated delicately in his palm.
"…It seems I'm doomed to this power."
This ice perfectly embodied Doma.
A cold individual with no real warmth within.
Doma gave a sad smile, but the implication of this reaction froze him in place.
He had felt an emotion.
"Why? I shouldn't be moved by something so trivial in my wretched life…"
Doma displayed a genuinely hurt expression as he began to examine himself.
It didn't take the young cult leader long to understand his situation.
"No, it's not true. I'm truly disappointed."
Normally, this emotion would have faded as usual, but it didn't.
'Huh? …I really held onto it?'
A faint sense of loss lingered in his heart, not vanishing instantly as it typically would.
Doma blinked, and everything before him dissipated like mist, his thoughts sinking into a vast, empty, nihilistic world.
A gray world.
There were no ripples in his heart, only subtle thoughts floating like spheres he could manipulate at will.
He could even touch his memories, he realized after checking.
Though it seemed there were no thoughts, in this state, all emotions, thoughts, memories, and even desires were clearly discernible and manipulable by Doma.
He had been right.
The memory of Jay's life had indeed affected his demonic form, but the form it took was unexpected.
He hadn't gained one power, but two.
In this gray universe, Doma could paint desired emotions onto a target… or himself.
He could even alter an individual's memories, provided certain conditions were met.
He didn't yet understand those conditions.
Yet altering himself came with disconcerting ease.
'I… I felt joy long ago, didn't I? Should I…'
With a simple act of will, everything in the gray world converged, and Doma located the place called "Joy."
Naturally, he used it on himself.
"Hmm, so happy~"
Doma displayed a childlike, pure, and radiant smile, noting that everything before him faintly resembled Jay's era.
"Even if I don't know why I'm happy, I'm so happy~" he said in a satisfied tone.
Doma didn't notice that he resembled an addict after injecting a large dose of joy into his mind.
'This Blood Demon Art is incredible; I feel like a telepath toying with my psyche.'
That thought was, in fact, the reality.
Doma possessed a power tied to mind manipulation, one anyone would call formidable.
Muzan had allowed him to achieve his original goal in a single night, and even beyond that.
Dōma hadn't merely pretended to feel emotions: he had even managed to halt the process of losing genuine emotion within himself.
Granted, his apathetic nature would always remain within him, and he would still suffer from the Ainz phenomenon.
But the worst was now behind him.
'Too bad… this power hasn't completely solved my problem,' he murmured, lowering his head, slightly dejected.
He could now imitate emotions, but… were they truly the emotions he longed for?
Instinctively, he cut off the influence of his Blood Demon Art.
The joy in his heart vanished at once, giving way to emptiness, to his cold and rational logic.
This power was not the true emotions Dōma desired. And that became even clearer the moment he deactivated it.
'This ability can, indeed, prevent my emotions from fading… that's enough… for now.'
As for the aspect of altering the mind? Dōma simply regarded it as a pleasant bonus.