"W-what?!"
The surprised voices of Akaza and Mori overlapped the moment Kokushibo's attack came to an end.
A violent gust of wind swept through the area as the ground cracked slightly under the force of the impact.
And yet… the mini-Dōma had indeed blocked a direct attack from Kokushibo.
Had he used a special technique? A Blood Demon Art, perhaps?
The answer was as simple as it was astonishing: no.
Dōma had merely relied on "Total Concentration: Constant" and his raw physical strength to counter Upper Moon 1.
"Dōma… why did you intervene?"
Though Kokushibo was genuinely surprised by his comrade's action, he showed no sign of it.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade as his breathing grew heavier, more aggressive.
If Dōma's response didn't satisfy him, he was ready to strike again.
"Oh, oh~ sorry for stepping in, my dear Kokushibo-sama, but… my son is standing behind that kid," Dōma replied, a calm smile on his lips, not hiding his connection to Mori.
"What?!"
"Interesting."
"W-wait a minute… there are more Dōmas?!"
Nakime was the first to react. Her cheeks flushed with a faint pink at the mention of the word *son*.
A fleeting thought crossed her mind: was she, technically, a mother?
The idea would likely have seemed absurd to most of the demons present…
But Nakime remained a woman with a conservative temperament.
After having been intimate with Dōma, she already considered their relationship to be beyond ordinary.
As the biwa-playing demoness blushed, Muzan's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.
His cold gaze fell upon Mori's attire—and what he sensed within him.
Three things immediately caught the Demon King's attention.
First, Dōma's son was… a Demon Slayer.
A problematic fact, certainly, but not irreversible in Muzan's logic.
After all, to him, any demon killed by a human was merely worthless trash, unfit for his blood.
He had even scolded Akaza for boasting about defeating a Hashira after his victory over Rengoku.
Second, the scent.
The scent of Mori's blood.
An aroma of such purity and strangeness that it instinctively curled Muzan's lips into a smile.
He felt an inexplicable connection to this boy, like a parent to their child.
A sensation foreign to Muzan, who had never had true children in all his existence.
All demons in the *KNY* universe carried Muzan's blood, making them technically related to him.
Yet, this connection was far from familial.
Mori's blood also stirred an irresistible urge in Muzan to taste it, though he deemed it inappropriate at that moment.
Finally, the third thing: a familiar presence.
Muzan sensed something in Mori that reminded him of the fugitive from that night.
Back then, the Demon King had questioned Dōma about the former Upper Moon 2, Yuri.
But he had felt watched in the shadows of the monastery after their conversation.
Unfortunately, he hadn't had time to investigate further.
Yuri had already caused too much havoc in the human world, and another massacre would have drawn too much attention to Dōma because of him.
'If this child is truly Dōma's son, his talent is undeniable.'
Muzan read Dōma's carefully reconstructed memories to confirm his suspicions and Mori's status as a Hashira.
Muzan wanted him.
And Gyutaro, too, of course.
But between a potential Lower Moon demon and a Hashira who could reach Upper Moon status, the choice was obvious.
That was the Demon King's conclusion, for he did not yet know Gyutaro's true strength.
'Sometimes, I should pay more attention to the details of Dōma's "family life" rather than his books…'Muzan mused.
But no one could say whether he would actually follow through.
Meanwhile, Akaza was living his own personal hell.
'Damn it… one Dōma is already too much. But two?!'
He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched like a FIFA player suffering their tenth consecutive loss in their first attempt at online play.
To him, a single Dōma was already a trial to endure.
Two? That was divine punishment.
If it turned out Mori had the same personality as his father, Akaza was ready to eliminate him on the spot.
'Phew… I managed to alter his memories in time.'
Behind his smile, Dōma sensed Muzan probing his mind.
Fortunately, he had sealed the true circumstances of Mori's birth.
Because if Muzan discovered that a demon had found a way to procreate normally, it would be catastrophic.
Such a revelation would prove that Dōma had been experimenting on his own body… and on Muzan's blood itself.
And the Demon King despised demons who grew too curious about their origins or sought power in uncontrollable ways.
"Your son? Very well, then I ask him to step aside a bit," Kokushibo said in a slow, deliberate tone.
Dōma couldn't help but compare Kokushibo's action to someone politely asking to pass by on a sidewalk.
That's how trivial killing had become for the former samurai.
"Hmm~ no, because, you see? This kid is also like a son to me," Dōma replied, before walking with his small legs toward Gyutaro.
"You little idiot, did you really have to disrespect some random old man? Have you forgotten my advice for living a long life?" he said, before leaping and striking Gyutaro on the head with his fan.
Gyutaro didn't understand the situation at all.
At first, he had only wanted to scold the man who was preventing him from inspecting the unusual kid.
Then his instincts screamed at him to counterattack if he valued his life.
By the time he had barely grasped his Nichirin sickles, the unusual boy in the woman's arms blocked the attack.
'Is he really Dōma-sama? But why has he turned back into a child? And what old man is he talking about?'
The more he thought about it, the more confused Gyutaro became.
He didn't know where his mistake had begun or why he was being hit by a kid claiming to be his benefactor.
"An adopted child? That explains his lack of wisdom compared to you," Kokushibo said, sheathing his katana, much to Akaza's dismay.
Yet, Upper Moon 1's mind didn't stop working after Dōma's revelation.
"A son?"* Kokushibo murmured. 'If I recall correctly, I left my wife behind to follow Yoriichi back then, during our hunt for demons…'*
Unconsciously, a desire to learn more about his own descendants began to take root in his heart.
Dōma didn't know it, but he had once again shifted Kokushibo's perspective on certain matters.
Was this a good thing for him and his plans? No one could say.
"Father, can you explain?" Mori asked, stepping toward Dōma, but the latter's action surprised everyone.
"Cough… why?" Mori stammered before losing consciousness from the impact of Dōma's fist.
The small boy gently withdrew his fist from his son's stomach before resting it on his shoulder in an almost comical manner.
"Gyutaro, take this kid back. We'll talk later," Dōma said in an unusually grave tone.
Perhaps Gyutaro sensed the temperature drop or the oppressive pressure emanating from Dōma, surpassing that of their usual training.
He didn't ask questions, grabbed Mori, and quickly vanished toward the monastery.
"Why haven't you told your son about your demonic nature yet?" Muzan murmured, his pale hands resting on Dōma's shoulders, slowly applying pressure.
At that moment, if this were Issei Hyoudou from the DXD universe, he'd likely have received a power-up. But Dōma felt something other than excitement at the thought of breasts behind his head.
'Calm down… she's your temporary boss, and she probably has an eggplant between her legs,'he repeated mentally, like a Buddhist monk in prayer.
"I don't intend to mix professional and family life," Dōma murmured, caught between truth and lies.
Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. The atmosphere grew thick with a murderous aura as Muzan locked his piercing gaze onto Dōma's multicolored eyes.
"You don't plan to turn him into a demon?" Muzan asked, his slender arm sinking into the body of the mini-Dōma.
The ice demon remained impassive.
"Indeed… but Gyutaro is different, and back then…" Dōma paused, meeting Muzan's gaze.
"I recommended a good candidate, didn't I?" he added, referring to Enmu.
Though Muzan wasn't particularly fond of Enmu, he had to acknowledge his rapid progress. The Demon King even believed Enmu could soon become a Lower Moon.
A situation made possible by Dōma's shrewd advice and Enmu's addictive Blood Demon Art.
Currently, Enmu ruled Tokyo's underworld through his dream trade.
Almost every homeless person and pauper was addicted to the dreams he provided through his blood-infused sake, which he exchanged for resources and, at a certain point, their lives.
After all, how many would willingly perish to see their dreams fulfilled?
'In the end, they become living corpses after overindulging in Enmu's Blood Demon Art,'Dōma thought without remorse, despite being the one responsible for Tokyo's situation.
Initially, the false doctor had wanted to found a cult or control an existing branch of Dōma's.
But Dōma suggested an alternative, inspired by a manhwa: Sweet Home.
(Image)
In that universe, a disease allowed victims to access all their desires for a near-infinite time, until they desired nothing more.
The victims became undead, devoid of any true desires.
Enmu applied this principle to control Tokyo's underworld, making gangs and fallen samurai clans dependent on his increasingly addictive dreams.
When a target no longer desired anything… Enmu devoured them with their consent.
They all died "happy."
"Indeed… but since when do you decide my actions, Dōma? Why should I settle for Gyutaro when I can have both?" Muzan growled, his eyes glinting with subtle rage.
Yet, Dōma didn't waver.
"Because… I'm asking you 'sincerely,'" he replied, locking his abyssal gaze with the Demon King's murderous one.
Muzan sensed no genuine emotion from Dōma, but he understood one thing in that moment.
Touching Mori wasn't worth jeopardizing his current bond with this creature.
***
Author's note: I'll publish a bonus at 300 stones and another at 500 (so 3 chapters are possible today, so vote!!).