Muzan left after giving his orders to Dôma.
No one really knew if those directives would be properly carried out.
"Hey, pretty biwa lady… you're Nakime-san, right? Could you send me back, please?"
Dôma would have loved to deepen his connection with a demon as useful as Nakime, but he knew now wasn't the time for a long chat.
She had worked hard today, and he had only just become a notable figure among the demons.
No need to rush things.
Surprisingly, his request was carried out with unusual speed, even compared to the other Upper Moons.
Yet, Dôma didn't notice the oddity of Nakime's gesture.
He simply thought she was eager to work with him.
*Zheng—*
The sound of the biwa echoed, his vision blurred… and Dôma found himself in the isolated alley where he had once defeated the horned demon, before Nakime's forced summoning.
The mutilated corpse of the believer still lay there, ignored by all due to the late hour and the secluded location.
"Oh, my Buddha… I'm still alive~"
The night had been full of earth-shattering events:
he had seen Muzan again, caught a glimpse of the Upper Moons, and had just reached the top of the Lower Moons' ranks.
'Still, it's time to head back to the monastery…'
All things must come to an end.
Dôma understood this perfectly, he who had already witnessed Jay's death and whose original self was a perfect nihilist.
…
A crescent moon hung in the sky, casting a soft, tranquil light.
The city was growing silent; even the faint chirping of insects seemed loud.
It was extremely late, and most people were already asleep… except for anomalies like Dôma.
The cult leader moved with a light, elegant step, a perpetual smile on his lips.
He had already discarded his blood-stained clothes and borrowed others from an anonymous household—not without leaving a small compensation.
After all, becoming a demon doesn't exempt one from everyday courtesy.
Even Itachi had knocked on Naruto's door before trying to kidnap him.
A true gentleman.
As he strolled cheerfully through an alley, a distant commotion caught his ear.
An assault.
"This world is strange… no matter how many scoundrels I devour, there are always more," he said with amusement.
Despite his words, Dôma wasn't about to complain about a potential free meal.
He moved at lightning speed toward the source of the noise and discovered three men beating a woman on the ground.
At first glance, he hadn't noticed the child the woman was desperately protecting in her arms.
But he soon spotted the small, unconscious face.
"You stupid woman, hand over the money! I've already seen your bag!"
"No! Don't…"
The woman clutched the bag with all her strength, shielding her child with her own body.
A heartbreaking sight… but one Dôma was sadly accustomed to.
In the darkness, one always ends up seeing the ugliest sides of human nature.
Sometimes, Dôma wondered about Batman's mental state, questioning how he could endure all these nightly horrors without killing.
"It's for my child's medicine, please! Otherwise, he'll die…"
Her cries only earned her a barrage of blows.
The burliest man finally tore the bag from the woman's grasp but noticed her beauty at the same time.
A lecherous smile spread across his face before he spoke in a cruel tone:
"Take her too… she's not bad."
The lust-filled eyes of the bandit leader heightened the woman's fear even more.
"B-but… what about the kid?" one of the thugs hesitated.
Dôma concluded that the man wasn't aware of this part of the "plan," as he seemed surprised by his leader's words.
"Leave the kid. He'll die anyway without that money."
The leader's tone shocked his subordinate, but the latter complied nonetheless, likely out of fear.
He probably didn't want to become another victim tonight.
It was in this tense atmosphere that Dôma made his presence known.
"Hey, what are you all playing at?"
Dôma's calm voice echoed through the alley.
He stood on a rooftop, facing the scene of the assault perpetrated by the thugs.
"Can I join you?" he asked with a dazzling smile.
Alas, that expression ruined the heroic aura and the mystery he passively exuded under the moonlight behind him.
"W-who's this idiot?" growled one of the bandits.
"How should I know? Look at his appearance…" replied their leader, uneasy.
Dôma pointed at the woman with a flick of his fan.
"I think I've caught you, haven't I?"
His relaxed voice put the bandits on edge.
Why was he so calm facing three men? Did he have a weapon? Was he crazy?
So many questions raced through their minds in the face of Dôma's illogical actions.
"Please… save me…" the woman pleaded. A faint glimmer of hope emerged in her eyes, once filled with despair.
This gesture prompted the bandit leader to want to finish his looting quickly or drive Dôma away.
"Stay out of this if you want to see the sun tomorrow morning."
A foolish threat, one Dôma had never heard since his transformation.
"Sorry, but…"
Dôma stepped forward with a fluid motion, a slightly mocking expression.
"I'm not interested in… your proposal."
He shrugged. He wasn't a saint but a demon, and in legends, demons punish sinners and despise the light.
The only difference was that he avoided harming the innocent.
Thus, the thug's proposal was rejected.
"Wait a minute… I recognize him. He's a well-known charlatan around here," sneered one of the bandits.
The others burst into laughter.
"I have another proposal," Dôma said, stopping just in front of them.
His multicolored eyes no longer held any amusement after the bandits' mockery.
The atmosphere froze.
The delinquents' instincts screamed: *danger*.
Unfortunately, their brains were slow to listen.
"You can try to seek redemption, or…"
His soft voice was now tinged with murderous intent.
"I'll listen to your suffering during your punishment. After all, it's my duty as a cult leader."
The bandits shuddered.
"Get lost!" roared one of them, trembling.
"I-I don't want…" stammered another.
"Huh? No? You're refusing eternal rest? Salvation?"
Dôma remained impassive.
"No matter. I'm always ready to redeem you by force… because I'm a chill guy who hates seeing people go astray."
His words fell as naturally as rain.
Yet, his interlocutors didn't understand the meaning of the word "chill" he had used.
"To hell with your salvation!"
The three men exchanged a glance and attempted to flee.
This action testified to their caution, as they finally sensed Dôma's abnormality and acted accordingly.
"I'm offering you peace, which is a good thing… so why run?"
Dôma opened his fan, and his silhouette vanished from the perspective of an ordinary mortal.
A moment later, the three thugs stumbled.
Their heads rolled, blood splattering the stones.
"I wish you happiness in your next lives."
Dôma stood close to the decapitated corpses.
His words sounded like a small prayer for the departed.
However, his gaze remained indifferent to the bodies lying on the ground.
He closed his fan and licked his lips, his hunger for human flesh awakened, but…
'Ugh…'
Compared to the faithful who meticulously prepared themselves before the "passing ceremony," these three were… hygienically questionable.
Next to the bodies, the woman seemed strangely tempting.
'Too bad, she's not a bad girl.'
"You okay?" he asked softly, approaching her.
The woman fainted before he could even extend his hand.
"I really don't understand why all the women I save end up collapsing under my charm…"
Dôma cursed his beauty, then altered the unfortunate woman's memory using the power of the Paradise of Vanity.
She would only remember a masked man who killed the thieves before disappearing.
…
"Kokushibô… what do you think of Dôma?"
Muzan was seated on a cushion facing Kokushibô in his quarters in the Infinity Castle.
The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed.
"…He is strong."
A brief, composed response.
Kokushibô.
(Image)
He is Upper Moon One, and by that title, the most powerful demon after Muzan.
Some *KNY* fans suspect Muzan suppresses him because of his habit of only eating his demonic opponents.
Beyond fan theories, he has held the position of Upper Moon One for centuries and has never truly faced danger from another demon.
"Strong? It's rare for you to evaluate someone like that."
Muzan gave a faint smile, moving a piece on the game board in front of him.
Kokushibô remained impassive, then added:
"It's simply a fact. And…"
Muzan's eyes narrowed, attentive.
He trusted the instincts of his most formidable subordinate.
"…he possesses a frighteningly strategic mind. I think he could challenge Hantengu for his position at this point."
The words made Muzan's eyebrows rise slightly.
The evaluation was high—perhaps too high.
Yet, the facts were there:
Dôma had defeated a demon nearly at the level of the Upper Moons, and in less than a year.
Add to that the fact that Upper Moon Five was already rivaling the recently deceased Upper Moon Six, killed by two Hashira.
Yes, Dôma could indeed compete for a place among the strongest.
A truth that, until now, even Muzan had unconsciously dismissed.
"Especially since he's grown even stronger after defeating Hundred Eyes."
Kokushibô's assessment didn't disappoint Muzan. On the contrary, it heightened his expectations for Dôma.
"Do you think… he's a danger to you?" Muzan asked, a playful smile on his lips.
A rare scene, but Kokushibô remained impassive in the face of his lord's friendly demeanor.
The former samurai briefly unsheathed his katana, glancing at his reflection.
"For now… no. But in the future… I'd win that duel."
Having spent centuries by his side, Muzan sensed the subtle doubt in Kokushibô's voice.
The reserved man, a follower of traditions and rules, showed hesitation about defeating a future Dôma.
"No matter who becomes Upper Moon One… they just need to be the strongest," declared the demon king.
Muzan's eyes gleamed with excitement and anticipation.
The Demon King decided in his heart that he should leave the position of Upper Moon Six to Dōma.
After all, he more than met the criteria, and the position had remained vacant because Dōma hadn't claimed it at the time.
Moreover, none of the other Lower Moon demons had dared to challenge him for the Upper Moon Six position.