After leaving the Hand Demon’s territory, Kiyohiko made his way through the dark forest.
The hunger in his belly prowled like a restless beast, occasionally clawing at the walls of his stomach to remind him of his body’s current condition.
This was also one of the reasons Kiyohiko was so desperate to encounter someone else and find Tanjiro.
His regenerative abilities did not seem to originate from Muzan Kibutsuji’s blood.
At the very least, he could say Muzan’s name as much as he pleased without suffering any consequences.
The price, however, was that every time he regenerated, his craving for humans and blood intensified.
If he did not replenish his energy in time, his regenerative abilities would gradually weaken as well.
Unfortunately, immediately after arriving in this world, he had spent an entire day fighting the Hand Demon.
Every part of his body except his head had regenerated more than once.
All I did was accidentally tell him what era it was.
Did he really need to get that angry?
Just as he was complaining to himself, an exceptionally piercing wail tore through the night sky.
“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!
I’LL DIE!
I’M REALLY GOING TO DIE!
I HAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN MARRIED YET!
I’VE NEVER EVEN HELD A GIRL’S HAND!
WAAAAAH!
I WANT TO GO HOME!
GRAMPS, SAVE ME!!”
The voice was miserable, shrill, and possessed a distinctive quality that could only be described as—
Noise.
Kiyohiko’s eyes instantly lit up.
Those words, that volume, and that voice…
Who else could it possibly be?
He pushed aside the bushes and, sure enough, saw a boy wearing a yellow haori patterned with white triangles.
The boy was desperately clinging to a large tree, his face covered in tears and snot as he frantically begged an enemy that did not even exist to spare his life.
Upon seeing Zenitsu’s pathetic appearance, the mischievous urges buried within Kiyohiko suddenly began to stir.
“Hehehe…”
Kiyohiko deliberately lowered his voice, producing an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat.
He silently circled around the tree.
Then, without warning, he thrust his head out from behind the trunk, twisted his face into a ferocious demonic grimace, opened his mouth beside Zenitsu’s ear, and roared:
“BOO!!
DINNER TIME!!”
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEK—!!!”
Zenitsu’s scream instantly rose by eight octaves, nearly shattering Kiyohiko’s eardrums.
His eyes rolled back into his head, and his entire body convulsed violently as though he had been electrocuted.
He kicked out both legs before falling rigidly backward.
Thud.
The world fell silent.
Looking at Zenitsu, who was foaming at the mouth and had completely lost consciousness, Kiyohiko burst into laughter.
“Hahahaha!
You’re way too easy to scare!
Hey, wake up, yellow dandelion!”
Still laughing, Kiyohiko walked over and lightly nudged Zenitsu’s calf with the tip of his foot.
Seeing no response whatsoever, he lowered his guard completely.
“Tch.
What an idiot.
Once he’s asleep, anyone could do whatever they wanted with—”
Kiyohiko abruptly stopped.
The smile on his face froze.
Only now did the floodgates of his memory belatedly open.
Asleep?
Completely helpless?
No…
Something was wrong.
He seemed to have forgotten something.
This guy became stronger when he fell asleep!
An unprecedented chill shot up Kiyohiko’s spine.
A sense of danger even more terrifying than what he had felt while facing the Hand Demon exploded within him.
Zenitsu’s breathing changed.
The frantic, disorderly gasps disappeared, replaced by low, concentrated breaths that followed a steady rhythm, rumbling faintly like distant thunder.
“Hiss—hiss—”
Electricity seemed to crackle through the air.
“Oh, shit—”
Kiyohiko had only just begun to step backward when the figure lying on the ground disappeared.
Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash.
A streak of golden lightning tore through the dark forest, moving so quickly that Kiyohiko’s eyes could not even capture an afterimage.
Immediately afterward, warm liquid sprayed through the air.
Kiyohiko stood there blankly as his vision suddenly tilted to one side.
A cold sensation swept across his neck, followed a moment later by an intense, burning pain.
He instinctively raised a hand and touched it.
His neck…
Had been cut halfway through.
Had he not instinctively leaned backward by a single centimeter, his head would already have been rolling across the ground like a ball.
“Cough… Cough!”
A torrent of blood erupted from the wound, dyeing his plain clothes crimson.
In the next instant, his terrifying demonic regeneration was forcibly activated.
Thick white smoke poured from the wound.
Flesh twisted and writhed as it rapidly knitted itself together, reconnecting his severed windpipe, blood vessels, and muscles in only two seconds.
The unbearable itching and agony of his flesh reconstructing itself nearly drove Kiyohiko to his knees.
Meanwhile, the culprit responsible for all of this—Zenitsu—remained standing not far away in the finishing stance of a quick-draw slash.
A moment later, he toppled over.
He landed flat on his back, a snot bubble expanding and shrinking beneath his nose as he slept soundly.
“YOU GODDAMN LUNATIC!!”
Kiyohiko clutched his newly regenerated neck and pointed at the sleeping Zenitsu, cursing furiously without the slightest concern for his image.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!
I was just saying hello!
It was a joke!
And you went straight for my neck?!
You nearly ended the entire series, do you know that?!
It’s a good thing it was me!
Anyone else would already be stone-cold dead!”
He stomped his feet furiously.
That slash had not only wounded his body but also consumed what little energy he had left.
The hunger in his stomach instantly doubled.
As he stared at the boy before him, who now gave off an incredibly tempting aroma, Kiyohiko’s eyes uncontrollably turned red.
Drool dripped steadily from the corner of his mouth and splashed against the grass.
Bro, why do you suddenly smell so delicious?
“You win…”
Kiyohiko slapped himself across the face and forcibly tore his gaze away from Zenitsu’s pale neck.
“I’m never casually frightening a mental patient again.
What rotten luck!”
Kiyohiko crouched beside him and examined that familiar face beneath the moonlight.
The phantom pain of having his neck sliced open continued to torment him, making him grind his teeth.
“You really can’t judge a book by its cover.
He looks like nothing more than a yellow dandelion…”
He reached out and lightly patted Zenitsu’s tear-streaked cheek.
“Hey, wake up.
The sun’s shining on your ass.”
Pop.
The snot bubble burst.
Zenitsu Agatsuma’s eyelids trembled violently several times before suddenly flying open.
The instant his unfocused eyes regained clarity, the first thing reflected within them was Kiyohiko’s unnaturally pale face, illuminated by the moonlight and adorned with an unsettling smile.
“Yo.
You’re awake, blondie.”
Kiyohiko deliberately lowered his voice.
The corners of his mouth stretched into an exceptionally “friendly”—almost nuclear—smile, revealing two sharp canine teeth.
“Tell me, how should I thank you?”
Zenitsu instantly turned to stone.
A moment later, his pupils contracted until they were no larger than pinpoints.
His face went from deathly pale to ashen blue, and the yellow dandelion atop his head seemed to bloom as his mouth opened to an impossible width.
A scream powerful enough to shake the mountains and rivers began brewing within his throat.
“A d-d-d-d-demon!
IT’S A DEMOOOOON—!!”
Just as the high-pitched scream was about to burst free, Zenitsu’s eyes rolled backward.
His body went rigid once again, and he appeared ready to lose consciousness.
The smile on Kiyohiko’s face instantly collapsed.
“OH, SHIT!
BRO, DON’T PASS OUT!
WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T PASS OUT!!”
…
TL: Pause, what do you mean by that?