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The fifth demon had been located.
True to his word, Tanjiro—everyone's little angel—kept his promise.
He left the chance to strike down the true body of the demon to Genya Shinazugawa, while he and Nezuko threw themselves into keeping the four "Emotion Demons" occupied.
"Tanjiro really is such an angel!"
"Compared to him, that half-demon guy is just useless!"
"We literally gave him the direction, and he still can't find the main body!"
"If Tanjiro went himself, he'd have tracked it down ages ago!"
"Wait, no—that's not fair! It's not Baldy's fault… the fifth demon's just too tiny!"
"Whoa! It's so small! No wonder it's so hard to find—it's the size of a rat!"
"Tiny body or not, it's fast as hell. Even with a gun, hitting that thing while it's darting around is next to impossible!"
Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters
"What a useless brat. Tanjiro and Nezuko are risking their lives out there, and you're moving at a snail's pace!"
Inosuke, blunt as ever, never held back.
"Exactly! Have a little shame! If you want to prove yourself, hurry up and cut that demon's neck already!" Zenitsu chimed in, piling on.
"C'mon, everyone, calm down…" Tanjiro's voice was gentle, even in projection.
"Ah—he hit it! He's got it!" Mitsuri's eyes lit up with sudden hope.
But the hope didn't last.
On-screen, Genya had indeed struck the demon's true body… but instead of the neck breaking, it was his own blade that snapped.
Even bullets strong enough to rip apart the four emotion demons hadn't scratched the true body.
"Tch. Pathetic." Sanemi spat, his voice colder than steel.
Genya knelt there, shoulders trembling, unable to lift his head.
"No matter what, that's an Upper Moon we're talking about. It takes a Hashira's strength to sever it," Shinobu said gravely.
"Kagaya's right. Tanjiro could do it… but if he leaves, Genya and Nezuko won't hold the four back. They'd be overwhelmed," Kyojuro shook his head.
"Wait, wasn't Mitsuri and Tokito supposed to be at the village too? Where are they in all this?" Tengen asked.
"Mitsuri left the village right before the attack," Iguro quickly explained.
"I'm so sorry…" Mitsuri's guilt was written all over her face.
"No… if anyone should apologize, it's me." Tokito lowered his head.
"Raise it, Muichiro. You never run away—you were definitely doing what needed to be done." Kagaya's soft voice cut through the tension.
At that moment—
"Wait! It's Muichiro! He's been fighting Upper Moon Five this whole time!" Mitsuri gasped.
The Viewing Screen Shifts
The scene turned, showing Muichiro Tokito.
The Mist Hashira, who had earlier been sent flying by the fan demon, had managed to save Kotetsu from a monstrous fish mid-flight. From there, he rushed to protect the swordsmiths—Haganezuka and Kanamori—only to cross paths with Gyokko, Upper Moon Five.
"No wonder I didn't see him return—I thought he was slacking off!" someone muttered.
"As if a Hashira would slack. He was caught up with an enemy just as strong."
"That's right, there are two Upper Moons here! I almost forgot!"
"This fishbowl freak… ugh, he gives me the creeps just looking at him."
"Muichiro's about Tanjiro's age… can he really handle an Upper Moon alone? I'm worried."
"They say he became a Hashira after just two months of holding a sword. He's a genius. He'll be fine!"
People across worlds held their breath, silently rooting for the boy.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Gyokko. Before I kill you, would you care to admire my artwork? Tonight, I've prepared something special for my guests."
The demon writhed as he spoke, his snake-like body twisting grotesquely.
With a snap, something burst from his pot—five swordsmiths strung together by blades, grotesquely fused into a single "art piece."
At first, silence. Then outrage.
Insults and curses rained across worlds, entire ancestral lines of Gyokko being creatively condemned.
After all, no one with a shred of sanity could see such gore and call it "art."
Naruto World
"What art?! This is a desecration of art!" Deidara of the Akatsuki was livid.
"Damn you, you disgusting demon. If I ever meet you, I'll show you what real art is. True art is… EXPLOSION!"
Back to the Screen
Proud of his "work," Gyokko rambled on and on. His smug speech lit a fire in Muichiro's chest.
Breath of Mist—Unleashed!
But Gyokko's ability to warp between pots made him too fast, even for a Hashira.
"How dare you damage my pots, you savage monkey who knows nothing of beauty!" Gyokko's voice cracked with rage.
"Thousand Needles—Fish Kill!"
Two enormous goldfish leapt from the pots, vomiting a storm of poisoned needles.
Muichiro dodged easily, but Kotetsu and Kanamori had no chance.
Without hesitation, Muichiro threw himself in front of them, shielding them with his body. Every poisoned needle sank into his flesh.
The worlds watching erupted in admiration.
"What a pitiful sight. Can't move your limbs now, can you? The paralysis should be setting in nicely."
Gyokko's sneering taunts stirred memories deep inside Muichiro, ones he'd thought forgotten.
Flash—steel glinted, his blade slicing Gyokko's neck.
But it didn't sever. Instead, water erupted from the pot, engulfing him.
"Blood Demon Art—Water Prison Pot!"
Trapped in the sphere, his body locked, sword useless, Muichiro could only wait as his air dwindled away. Death pressed closer with each heartbeat.
"No… it can't end like this!"
"An Upper Moon's too much for one Hashira alone!"
"Isn't there anyone who can save him?! If not, Muichiro's done for!"
"And Tanjiro's side isn't looking good either. Are they really going to lose?"
Fists clenched across worlds, tension sky-high.
"Not yet," Gojo Satoru murmured with a smile. "The fact Gyokko hasn't finished him already… that's the opening. That's the chance."
"Exactly. Villains die because they talk too much. Look at this creep, rambling about his 'art' instead of landing the killing blow. He's signing his own death warrant." Dongfang Yuechu nodded firmly.
"All things move by cause and effect. The swordsmiths Muichiro saved earlier won't be meaningless. This is only the beginning." Daoist Wang from Wudang spoke with calm certainty.
And just as they foresaw—
A turning point was coming.
"..."
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