Lin was stunned.
The man in front of him, wearing a suit and a fedora with curly hair and looking remarkably like Michael Jackson, was undoubtedly Muzan Kibutsuji.
He never expected that the point in time he had transmigrated to would be the very night Muzan Kibutsuji slaughtered the Kamado family.
If he had 100% synchronization—no, even just 50%—he would have the confidence to protect the Kamado family and escape unscathed from Muzan Kibutsuji.
But with only 10% synchronization and a “Yoriichi Tsugikuni’s Blade (Replica),” even self-preservation was a problem.
This feeling of encountering the final boss right at the start reminded Lin of when he first played Sekiro.
“This is attack, this is defense, and this is Genichiro Ashina!” Lin really wanted to point at himself and ask the system, “Me?
Fight Muzan?” Facing this opening kill, Lin only had one thing to say, “Muzan, I really didn’t expect to run into you here.” “Eek!” An unconscious wail escaped the corner of Muzan Kibutsuji’s mouth, and all five of his brains were trembling violently.
Originally, only two of his brains thought he had encountered Yoriichi Tsugikuni again.
Three other brains were barely managing to stay calm.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni has been dead for hundreds of years.
It is absolutely impossible for him to appear here again.
But those words shattered his remaining composure.
This guy recognized him.
He hadn’t appeared much in hundreds of years.
How could this person recognize him at first glance?
There was only one explanation—the man in front of him was very likely Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Muzan Kibutsuji stared at the man before him, his eyes widening involuntarily, “You…
Aren’t you dead?” Hearing this, Lin immediately realized that Muzan Kibutsuji had misunderstood his words.
Moreover, the other was even more nervous and terrified than he was.
The demon was frozen in place, his entire body trembling slightly.
Because they were so close, Lin could even hear the clatter of Muzan Kibutsuji’s teeth chattering.
Lin had an epiphany.
Right.
Only he knew he only had 10% synchronization, but Muzan Kibutsuji did not.
As everyone knows, Muzan Kibutsuji’s defining trait is being a coward—no, being cautious.
And the reason he was so cautious was because he had encountered Yoriichi Tsugikuni three hundred years ago.
Because Lin had cosplayed as Yoriichi Tsugikuni, he was very familiar with the original Demon Slayer series.
He clearly remembered that in the original work, when Muzan Kibutsuji encountered Yoriichi Tsugikuni, he split himself into over 1,800 pieces to escape.
But Yoriichi Tsugikuni still managed to slash over 1,500 of them.
He even left scars on Muzan Kibutsuji’s body that had yet to fade.
When he first saw Muzan Kibutsuji, his first reaction was “Holy crap, a demon.” But when Muzan Kibutsuji saw him, this Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the fear and shock in his heart would only be far greater.
Lin immediately calmed down.
He looked at Muzan Kibutsuji, whose red pupils were shaking as if in an earthquake, and said in a deep voice, “I have returned from hell, Muzan.” Fear a tidal wave of fear instantly engulfed Muzan Kibutsuji.
He gritted his teeth hard as numerous blood vessels bulged on his skin, writhing beneath the surface.
His seven hearts were beating violently.
The thoughts of his five brains instantly reached a consensus: Run.
Lin naturally noticed Muzan Kibutsuji’s strange behavior.
He still felt that he could not scare off Muzan Kibutsuji with just two sentences.
To make Muzan Kibutsuji truly believe he was Yoriichi Tsugikuni, he needed to demonstrate more power.
Thus, he drew his sword.
Hum.
The black blade hummed, and the moment it left the scabbard, it emitted a dark red glow.
The fine snow blown from the eaves melted into water the instant it touched the blade.
Although it was only “Yoriichi Tsugikuni’s Blade (Replica)” and an incomplete Bright Red Nichirin Sword effect, from a visual standpoint it was identical to the original.
Simultaneously, Lin played all his remaining trump cards.
As he activated Sun Breathing, wisps of white mist escaped from the corners of his mouth.
His heart rate accelerated, and his body temperature climbed above 39 degrees Celsius.
The Demon Slayer Mark on his forehead suddenly throbbed with a burning pain.
And the world began to change before Lin’s eyes.
Muzan Kibutsuji’s body gradually became transparent in Lin’s vision.
The direction and contraction of muscles, the operation of organs, and the flow of blood all became clearly visible.
Bright Red Nichirin Sword, Sun Breathing, Demon Slayer Mark, and Transparent World.
Even though he only had 10% synchronization, Lin still felt the immense power of Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
On the other side, Muzan Kibutsuji’s pupils had just stopped trembling.
The next moment, he saw Lin draw his sword and witnessed with his own eyes the blade emitting a dark red light and intense heat.
Muzan Kibutsuji gasped.
The blade from his memories of three hundred years ago merged perfectly with the scene before him.
What terrified him even more was that, in his eyes, the aura of the man before him had actually weakened.
In his perception, the opponent seemed even weaker than an ordinary Demon Slayer Corps swordsman.
This unusual situation immediately reminded Muzan Kibutsuji of his pathetic past.
Three hundred years ago, when he first saw Yoriichi Tsugikuni, he had also mistaken him for an ordinary Demon Slayer Corps swordsman.
And then…
Muzan Kibutsuji did not dare to think any further.
He tried his best to control his body from trembling, yet he felt every cell in his body shuddering.
At this moment, he only wanted to use his old trick again—splitting into countless fragments to escape.
But his cells, trembling incessantly with fear, made splitting exceptionally difficult.
No.
It was not just that he could not split.
Under fear that exceeded all limits, Muzan Kibutsuji was even temporarily unable to control his body’s movements.
However, Lin had already charged forward.
Empowered by the Transparent World, he clearly saw the five brains and seven hearts inside Muzan Kibutsuji.
Not only that, he also saw the scars Yoriichi Tsugikuni had left on Muzan Kibutsuji three hundred years ago, which still had not healed.
In Lin’s eyes, these scars were as helpful as the dotted Lines on a package indicating where to tear.
“Please cut along the dotted Line.” Under Muzan Kibutsuji’s terrified gaze, Lin’s first strike landed precisely on the scar left by Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Two strikes, separated by three hundred years, became one.
“Ah!” Muzan Kibutsuji let out a startled roar, his eyes filled with anger, hatred, and fear.
This strike was absolutely no coincidence.
Only Yoriichi Tsugikuni himself could slash the exact same spot with such unerring precision.
He really has crawled out of his grave.
However, an even greater fear was yet to come.
“Muzan Kibutsuji, when I opened the door, I saw you smiling,” Lin dealt a psychological blow, posing the three questions of the soul.
“What was so funny?
What was so interesting?
Muzan, what do you think life is?”