Sometimes, Kiyohiko genuinely wondered whether there was something wrong with his luck.
Suppose someone asked him whether anything could be worse than waking up tied to a bed while a woman with a negative Bond Value occasionally toyed with her Nichirin Sword beside him.
Kiyohiko’s answer would be:
Yes.
Absolutely, bro.
At this very moment, Kiyohiko was kneeling in the center of a room with both hands bound behind his back.
Before him, nine figures stood within the shadows.
Each possessed a different appearance and expression, yet the fighting spirit radiating from every one of them felt like a tangible blade pointed directly at his throat.
Kiyohiko swept his gaze across them as system notifications continuously surfaced within his mind.
[Target detected: Obanai Iguro.]
[Current Bond Value: -15.]
[Target detected: Kyojuro Rengoku.]
[Current Bond Value: -23.]
[Target detected: Gyomei Himejima.]
[Current Bond Value: -28.]
…
[Target detected: Mitsuri Kanroji.]
[Current Bond Value: 15.]
Wait.
What did I just see?
A positive number?!
Is there actually an angel among this group of terrifying murderers?
Kiyohiko followed the notification and found an adorable young woman with a sweet smile and long braided hair.
Its distinctive cherry-blossom pink and light green colors stood out brilliantly beneath the sunlight.
As though sensing his gaze, Mitsuri Kanroji turned toward him, and their eyes met.
My, why does that strange demon keep staring at me?
Mitsuri became slightly embarrassed and cupped her flushed cheeks in both hands.
She really is adorable.
Kiyohiko could not help marveling at her reaction.
She’s so much better than that horrible woman who only knows how to force poisonous tea down my throat.
[Current Bond Value with Obanai Iguro: -30.]
What?!
Why did it drop so much all of a sudden?!
What did I do this time?
Kiyohiko glanced over and discovered that the killing intent surrounding the Serpent Hashira had nearly solidified into physical form.
If looks could kill, Kiyohiko would have already died a dozen times and been chopped into minced meat.
Right.
I forgot about him.
If I keep staring, this is going to turn into the Case of the Murderous Bandaged Man.
Kiyohiko lowered his head and stared silently at the floor, refusing to look at anyone.
Ever since transmigrating, nothing had gone smoothly for him. The source of this chapter is g.com.
First there was the Hand Demon, then Shinobu Kocho, and now this.
He had barely done anything, yet everyone’s Bond Values kept plummeting like roller coasters racing downhill.
Surely nothing could go wrong if he simply sat there and did absolutely nothing.
According to Shinobu, Master Ubuyashiki had already accepted him, which made his objective perfectly clear.
Once the Master arrived, every problem should resolve itself.
The only potential issue was that violent lunatic, the Wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa.
Kiyohiko was not particularly worried about Sanemi suddenly cutting him with his sword.
What truly frightened him was the possibility that the man might lose his temper, slice open his own arm, and perform some absurd rare-blood test.
Kiyohiko genuinely did not know whether he could resist that temptation.
Still, he was currently sitting there like an ostrich with its head buried in the sand, ignoring everyone.
Sanemi could not possibly have a reason to do something like that now.
At that moment, a piercing wail erupted throughout the room.
“Waaaah!
Why?!
Why did they tie up Mr.
Kiyohiko?!
And who are all these people?!
Their eyes are terrifying!”
Tanjiro knelt solemnly on Kiyohiko’s left.
Although cold sweat had gathered across his forehead, his back remained perfectly straight, and he stared forward with unwavering determination.
On Kiyohiko’s right, Zenitsu was practically lying flat against the floor.
Both hands clutched Tanjiro’s haori as tears and snot covered his face, while he released enough noise to rupture everyone’s eardrums.
“Calm down, Zenitsu,”
Tanjiro quietly warned him before raising his head and speaking in a loud, clear voice.
“Please allow me to explain!
Although he is a demon, he truly has never eaten anyone!
On Mt.
Fujikasane, he risked his life to save me and the other candidates, even taking the Hand Demon’s attacks upon himself!
If he were an evil demon, he could have eaten us then and restored his strength!”
“Shut up, red-haired brat.”
A voice colder than ice interrupted Tanjiro.
The speaker was the scar-covered man standing before them—the Wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa.
He wore a cruel smile as he toyed with the hilt of his Nichirin Sword and slowly approached Kiyohiko, naked disgust filling his eyes as he looked down at him.
“A demon that doesn’t eat humans?
I’ve heard that joke so many times my ears have calluses.”
“If it’s a demon, it should be killed.”
“Please wait, Mr.
Tanjiro abruptly tried to stand and stop him, but the Kakushi members behind him firmly restrained his shoulders.
“Even a Hashira has no right to act without distinguishing right from wrong!
I refuse to acknowledge someone like that as a Hashira!”
“What did you say, brat?!”
Tanjiro’s words completely enraged Sanemi.
The sharp sound of steel leaving its sheath echoed through the room as the green Nichirin Sword in his hand was drawn.
“I’ll show you his true nature right now.”
He shifted the sword into his right hand and slashed it viciously across his left forearm.
Brilliant red blood immediately poured from the wound and dripped onto the tatami.
“Come on, demon!”
Sanemi thrust his bleeding arm in front of Kiyohiko, his smile wild and ferocious.
“Don’t you want to eat?”
“This is marechi blood.”
“Show everyone what you really are, and then I’ll be able to cut off your head with a clear conscience!”
Kiyohiko fell silent.
Sometimes, he truly wondered whether he had been cursed with terrible luck.
Tanjiro had been the one insulting Sanemi.
Kiyohiko had merely knelt there without moving or saying a single word, yet somehow he had still been dragged into the line of fire.
He squeezed his eyes shut and violently turned his head away.
The veins along his neck bulged like writhing worms as his entire body trembled.
“You can still resist looking?”
The brutality in Sanemi’s eyes intensified.
He clearly had not expected the demon’s willpower to be this strong.
He abruptly seized Kiyohiko by the hair and forced his face around, making him stare directly at the bleeding arm.
“Stop pretending!”
“Look at it!”
“This is what you desire more than anything!”
The blood came so close that it nearly brushed against Kiyohiko’s lips.
In that instant, his pupils contracted into needle-thin slits, and the whites of his eyes flooded crimson.
The barrier protecting his reason gave a sharp, cracking sound as it began to collapse.
“You’ve gone too far, Mr.
Shinazugawa.”
At some point, Shinobu had appeared beside Sanemi, the edges of her butterfly-patterned haori swaying gently.
Her flawless smile remained fixed upon her face, yet ripples had begun spreading through her violet eyes.
She grasped Sanemi’s arm and pulled it slightly farther away.
“If you bring it any closer, your rare blood will drip directly into his mouth.”
Just as the final thread of Kiyohiko’s reason was about to snap, two young yet solemn voices flowed through the room like clear spring water, washing away the tension that had stretched to its limit.
“Master Ubuyashiki has arrived.”