“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!
Please spare me!
I was just so hungry…
If it weren’t for those damn Hashira…
I wouldn’t have hidden in these woods.
I was so starved I couldn’t think straight, and I accidentally disturbed you.”
Mukago seemed to have found an excuse, and her voice stopped trembling.
Instead, she began to explain faster and faster.
“Yes, that’s right!
It’s all the fault of those damn demon slayers.
It’s all their fault!”
Her expression was completely unhinged.
As Shiro drew closer, she finally realized the harsh reality.
*He wants to kill me.*
*It’s clearly the demon slayers’ fault!
If I had just filled my stomach, I wouldn’t have bothered you.
Go find trouble with those demon slayers instead!!!*
Mukago screamed internally.
Just like when she encountered the Hashira in the past, she desperately wanted to vanish from the sight of the terrifying guy in front of her.
“Move!
Come on, move!”
Mukago frantically pounded her own thighs.
A few shards of bone mixed with blood splattered onto the nearby flowers and grass, bringing a somewhat twisted beauty to the scene.
“Stop struggling.
A member of the Twelve Kizuki like you, who relies entirely on illusions and is weaker than an ordinary demon in every other aspect, can’t break free from my spiritual pressure.”
An ordinary Captain-level spiritual pressure could crush a massive crowd of ordinary Soul Reapers.
Although Shiro couldn’t match a Captain’s pressure just yet, using a Vice-Captain level spiritual pressure against Mukago was honestly overkill.
With a perfectly calm expression, Shiro drove his Zanpakutō straight into the center of Mukago’s chest.
Granted, once a person broke through her illusions, Mukago herself was incredibly weak–even inferior to the Temari Demon from the original story.
But one had to remember that Shiro was essentially a Soul Reaper combined with an apprentice wizard, and he was currently maintaining Total Concentration: Constant with Sun Breathing.
For a Lower Moon demon to drag someone like him into an illusion was already something she could be proud of.
“Huh?
This isn’t the kind of sword the Demon Slayer Corps uses…
Hahaha!
This kind of sword can’t kill a demon.”
Mukago lowered her head, looking at Death March piercing through her chest, and spoke with a hint of excitement.
But then, noticing a stray ray of sunlight filtering through the trees, she quickly covered her mouth with her hands.
Even if an “ordinary sword” couldn’t kill her, the sunlight that could break through at any moment was still a lethal threat.
“Oh?
So you think my sword can’t kill you?
How about now?”
Shiro poured his killing intent into his Zanpakutō.
The spots where Death March touched Mukago’s flesh began to sizzle like meat on hot coals.
Mukago’s smile froze on her face.
The Zanpakutō brought her a wave of agony that was no different from being burned by the sun.
“Ahhhh!”
A piercing, blood-curdling shriek echoed through the forest, lingering for a long time.
If any traveler had been passing by, they would have been so terrified that they’d never dare step into these woods again.
A few minutes later, the screaming finally died down.
“Your strength might be lacking, but your stubborn vitality definitely fits the profile of the Twelve Kizuki,” Shiro muttered, looking at the hollow-eyed puppet of Mukago.
“This demon is barely qualified to become your servant, my dear master.
As long as you find twenty-four more servants of similar quality, we can take our fusion to the next level~”
Death March vibrated slightly, and the blade spirit’s voice echoed in Shiro’s ear, using words that could easily be misunderstood.
This instantly jolted his spirits.
What did a further fusion of the Zanpakutō represent?
Bankai.
Only a Soul Reaper who had mastered Bankai could officially step through the gates of the Captain class.
It offered a massive leap in power, completely separating them from Soul Reapers who could only use Shikai.
Sōsuke Aizen and Kenpachi Zaraki were two exceptions; even without using Bankai, they were top-tier powerhouses among the Captains.
“But can I really find twenty-four more puppets on par with the Twelve Kizuki in this world?”
Shiro stroked Death March, hoping the lady blade spirit would step out and accommodate him a little.
If it were the Shiro in the Soul Reaper world, finding even higher-level puppets would be a piece of cake.
However, even though his counterparts in other universes could summon Death March, it was just an empty shell for them; the actual blade spirit always remained with his specific Zanpakutō.
Without the corresponding blade spirit, he had to figure out a way to achieve Bankai on his own before he could share it with the other Shiros.
“If worst comes to worst, I’ll just lock Muzan Kibutsuji in a dark room and force him to churn out demons on par with the Twelve Kizuki.”
As for who he would turn into a demon?
Naturally, it would be people who liked to “pick fights.” Just think of it as recycling trash.
*Thud!*
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground came from behind Shiro, making him frown.
Thinking another new demon might have appeared, his frown instantly turned into a pleased smile.
*Clang!*
Accompanied by a sharp whistle of slicing air, Shiro raised his Zanpakutō horizontally, intercepting a weapon aimed straight at Mukago.
Looking closely, it was just a completely ordinary hatchet–even cruder than the ones the Kamado family used.
Shiro picked up the axe and looked in the direction it had flown from, spotting two fair-faced young boys who looked almost identical.
A pair of twins.
“Muichiro!
I’ll buy us some time, run away right now!
Otherwise, both of us might die here!”
The older twin stared intently at Mukago, who had already been turned into a puppet, as if looking at a mortal enemy.
But his constantly trembling legs exposed the fact that he was nowhere near as brave as he was trying to sound.
“But that kid…”
The younger brother poked his head out from behind, looking hesitantly at Shiro, seemingly wanting to take him along too.
“Forget about him!
He’s already being controlled by that monster.
He even blocked my attack to protect it!
Don’t forget, strange people have been appearing in the village lately, tricking villagers into entering this forest, and none of them have ever come back.”
Yuichiro Tokito shoved his brother, telling him to leave Shiro alone.
With just the strength of the two of them, there was absolutely no way they could rescue someone from a demon’s clutches; they would only end up throwing their own lives away.
Yuichiro was currently filled with deep regret.
To make a living for the family, he and his brother had come to harvest timber in this forest rumored to have demons.
Who knew that the demon the village woman described actually existed?
Now, if the demon truly wanted to kill them, he and Muichiro probably stood no chance of escaping.
Shiro looked at Yuichiro, who was preparing to face death, and his lips twitched.
He never expected that in a remote place like this, he would run into the future Mist Hashira, Muichiro Tokito.
Right now, it was still three years and four months before the main storyline began.
Muichiro’s brother hadn’t been killed by a demon yet, so naturally, they hadn’t joined the Demon Slayer Corps either.
Talk about a massive coincidence.
Shiro walked up to Yuichiro.
Ignoring the boy’s tense posture–as if he were ready to leap forward and fight to the death–Shiro held the hatchet out to him, doing his best to put on a gentle, friendly expression.
“Do you boys happen to know the way to Mt.
Natagumo?
If you could tell me, I’d really appreciate it.”
[Total Bonus Chapters Achieved: 0]
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