Inside the Monastery of the Eternal Paradise Faith.
A child sat cross-legged on a cushion at the Main Hall's altar, holding a bowl of clear water and gazing down at his reflection.
Iridescent, rainbow-like eyes, hair as pure white as oak, and a face so exquisitely flawless it seemed sculpted by a deity—
If a Son of God truly existed in this world, he might look something like this.
"Douma…"
"Oh dear ~ This is quite a bother, isn't it?"
The child pouted slightly, tossed the bowl aside, and rested his chin on his hand, looking at the sunlight streaming in through the window. His rainbow irises shone like clear, bright gems in the sun.
"Did I really transmigrate? Even though seven days have passed, it still feels so strange."
In his previous life, he died on a certain day when he was eighteen, but as for which day exactly? He didn't really care.
He had been bedridden since the age of ten, and the time since then had been spent in a daze, battling illness.
With such a body, it wouldn't have been surprising if he had died at any time.
During his rare moments of lucidity, he had managed to finish reading the Demon Slayer manga, and he was unexpectedly calm in accepting his current situation.
He vaguely remembered drifting in darkness for a very long time until that child with the rainbow-colored eyes appeared before him, opening his arms with a compassionate smile and gladly accepting his existence.
And so, the two merged—no, they together welcomed a new life.
"The original child truly had no emotions at all," Douma lowered his eyes, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He lacked the normal joys, angers, and sorrows of a person, yet he found it hard to forget things, like a machine."
"Hmm, perhaps this isn't so bad, for both of us."
Thinking this, he displayed a pure and beautiful smile.
"Lord Master." The side door slid open, and a respectful female voice interrupted his musings. "The believers have arrived."
"I understand. Please let them in."
Douma picked up a black and gold lotus-shaped hat from beside him and placed it on his head, instinctively putting on a flawless smile.
While he agreed that it was indeed foolish for a group of adults to complain to a child, as the Lord Master of the Eternal Paradise Faith, he was still doing his job well.
Several believers entered from outside, knelt before him, and recounted their life's suffering and grievances, pleading with the "Son of God" on the high seat to lead them to the world of paradise.
Douma maintained a compassionate expression, his mind wandering in boredom, yet tears of pity fell from his face at appropriate moments, and he offered comforting, innocuous words to the weeping believers.
Tsk, how annoying.
It wasn't until the last rays of the setting sun completely vanished that the believers departed, overflowing with gratitude.
Douma returned to his room, where a maid served him a meal that was considered lavish for that era.
Douma used his chopsticks to poke at the grilled fish and stewed vegetables on his plate, then picked up a rice ball and took a bite. He then frowned slightly as he sipped the miso soup... Well, he didn't like it much, but fortunately, he was never particular about food.
"Hmm ~ I still have to continue being this Lord Master."
"Although I really don't want to keep staying here listening to those ignorant people complain about this and that, the world outside is so difficult. A pretty boy like me would have a hard time surviving well."
"Oh, right, there are also demons in this world... Just thinking about it makes it so dangerous ~"
"As for becoming a demon... Hmm, I guess not."
Although he had thought about immortality and wanted to see the stories that would unfold two or three hundred years later... but Kibutsuji Muzan as a boss was still too terrible, and eating people seemed rather impolite, and there truly was a hell in this world.
"But what if the Demon King still comes for me later?"
"Try to contact the Demon Slayer Corps before that? Oh dear, oh dear, that only sounds more dangerous ~"
Douma yawned, idly stirring his miso soup with his chopsticks.
He had no interest in slaying demons; exercising would practically kill him.
Perhaps because he had died once, he felt no fear of death at all.
"Hmm, is this a bit strange?"
Douma tilted his head, blinking his rainbow-colored eyes with an innocent expression.
"Never mind, I'll leave these matters for my future self to consider," he thought, feeling perfectly justified.
He watched as the maid cleared away the meal, then sat alone in the increasingly dim room.
"Eh? That's odd, why hasn't Mother come to see me tonight?"
After an unknown amount of time, Douma yawned, slid open the wooden door, and walked down the corridor towards his parents' room.
Moonlight streamed through the windows onto the corridor, laying a cool, silver veil over the floor.
Standing before his parents' room, Douma opened the door, and a heavy smell of blood assaulted him.
He paused, but felt no fear, and his steps remained light as he walked in.
His father lay contorted in a pool of blood, all life gone from him.
His mother lay beside him, her expression twisted in pain, her lips a purplish-black from poison, not at all like her usual gentle and kind self.
"Eh? Is it today?"
Douma stood quietly in the darkness, looking down as his father's blood slowly spread towards him, his heart completely unmoved.
He knew it: the father who toyed with female believers, and the mother who, unable to bear it any longer, chose to kill her husband and then poison herself... All of this was meant to be, and it was happening right before his eyes.
"It just feels... a bit pathetic."
Douma thought, yet felt no sorrow within him.
His face instinctively showed a compassionate expression, and crystalline tears streamed from his rainbow eyes.
After two lines of tears traced his cheeks, his expression instantly returned to calm and unruffled, and then he wrinkled his nose slightly.
"It smells awful. I need to find someone to clean this up."
He turned to walk out the door, but just as he was about to step through, he suddenly stopped.
"Eh?"
"Is this a normal person's reaction?"
Although he had no feelings for these parents, and the original Douma had even less... but... was this how a normal person would react?
Douma turned to look at the two bodies in the pool of blood, tilting his head with a bewildered expression.
"No, that's not right."
He looked down at his own tender hands.
"I shouldn't be like this."
"My emotions…"
"Are they draining away?"
Douma blinked, his mood finally showing a slight fluctuation, a faint trace of sadness crossing his usually clear and empty, vibrant eyes.
"That truly is too sorrowful."
"Lord Master! This is—Ahhh!"
The maid's shrill scream echoed behind him, breaking the tranquility of the long night.
After this night, significant changes occurred among the high-ranking members of the Eternal Paradise Faith, with only the Son of God remaining unchanged.