*Smack.*
The flame-wreathed Zanpakutō showed its might, successfully severing one of the Ugly Demon’s arms.
Under normal circumstances, losing an arm was to a demon what a tiny papercut was to a human.
The more blood granted by Muzan Kibutsuji, the stronger a demon’s regenerative powers became.
If an Upper Rank lost an arm, it would grow back in the blink of an eye.
However, the Ugly Demon wasn’t even one of the Twelve Kizuki; the concentration of Muzan’s blood in its veins was clearly low.
Combined with the natural suppression of Sun Breathing and *Kidō*, by the time Shiro approached it again, not even a single bud of flesh had sprouted from the demon’s stump.
It was as if the demon had been forcibly turned back into a human.
Shiro pointed his Zanpakutō at its head.
He wanted to see if decapitation with a Zanpakutō could permanently kill a demon the same way a Nichirin Sword could.
Suddenly, the Ugly Demon’s body stretched out like a long strip of rubber, narrowly dodging Shiro’s strike.
“This thing actually has a Blood Demon Art?!”
Shiro blinked in surprise.
He had assumed that any demon capable of using a Blood Demon Art would, at the very least, have a somewhat decent appearance.
Being able to use such a technique meant the concentration of Muzan’s blood was far higher than that of a common “trash” demon.
“It seems I can’t kill you just yet.
Even if your face makes me want to gag, your value is much higher than those demons who can’t use techniques.”
Shiro’s voice echoed from where he stood a moment ago, yet he was already in front of the Ugly Demon.
Before the demon could react, Shiro tapped his toes, concentrated spiritual energy in his feet, and closed the distance instantly.
His movements were fluid; while he didn’t consider himself a villain, he understood the trope of “dying because you talked too much.”
With a flick of his wrist, the Zanpakutō whistled through the air, piercing directly into the Ugly Demon’s rubbery body with a dull thud.
The sheer force of the blow pinned the creature to a nearby wall.
“Damn you!
Damn you, you brat!
I’m going to eat you!
Argh!”
The Ugly Demon’s arms elongated, trying to grab Shiro’s head to pull him toward its maw.
Just as it was about to touch him, a powerful hand gripped the side of its face and slammed it back into the wall.
A crater shaped like the strange creature appeared in the stone, kicking up a mist of blood.
The demon’s already hideous face became even more distorted; it could now go straight to an audition for an “Eldritch Horror” without needing any makeup.
“Bakudō #4: Hainawa (Crawling Rope).”
Shiro aimed his right palm at the incapacitated demon and gave a low shout.
Spiritual particles coalesced into a shimmering golden rope, binding the demon’s five limbs tightly.
“Just a mere rope?
Once I break free, it’s your funeral!”
The demon’s screeching made Shiro’s ears ring.
He pulled the Zanpakutō from its chest and immediately shoved it into its mouth.
He twisted the blade 360 degrees, shredding the demon’s tongue and throat so badly they wouldn’t recover for quite a while.
“Mmph!
Mmmph!”
The Ugly Demon writhed, its body stretching thin where the rope bound it, seemingly on the verge of slipping out of the *Bakudō*.
Seeing it still trying to escape, Shiro simply grabbed its five limbs and tied a dozen specialized knots.
Unless the demon ripped its own head and limbs off, the struggle would only make the bindings tighter.
Shiro pulled out a pre-prepared burlap sack, stuffed every inch of the demon inside, shouldered it, and headed back into the mountains.
He brought the sack to a cave on the back of the mountain.
By now, the demon’s tongue had regrown.
It tilted its head–still tied to its own limbs–and roared at Shiro:
“Let me go!
Otherwise, *That Lord* will be furious!
My mission isn’t finished yet!”
“You actually have a mission?”
Shiro tightened his fist.
As he suspected, Muzan Kibutsuji was intentionally searching for the Kamado family.
“Too bad your mission ends here.”
Shiro’s face turned cold, his Zanpakutō glowing with a chilly white light.
Ignoring the demon’s curses, he sliced off another one of its arms.
As blood geysered out, Shiro walked deeper into the cave and brought out a wild rabbit tied with string.
He placed the live rabbit into the pool of demon blood.
Almost instantly, the rabbit’s legs kicked, and it keeled over dead.
“I see…
direct ingestion of demon blood doesn’t work.
It acts like a potent poison; it’s too easy to be killed by it.”
Picking up the now-blackened rabbit, Shiro didn’t leave the carcass in the open.
He dug a hole and buried it.
If another animal ate it, the infection might spread through the entire mountain range, and the Kamados still had to live here.
As Shiro continued his experiments, the number of animals poisoned by the demon blood grew, while the Ugly Demon’s voice grew weaker.
Eventually, there was no sound at all.
Looking at the demon’s glazed, whitening eyes, Shiro fell into deep thought.
*How exactly can I obtain a Blood Demon Art from a demon?*
Did he have to become a demon himself to start?
Well, it wasn’t impossible; he could turn through Tamayo later, which had far fewer side effects than Muzan’s method.
The craving for flesh wouldn’t be as intense.
But turning into a demon meant gaining a bunch of weaknesses and never seeing the sun again.
Suddenly, Shiro remembered a certain mohawked youth.
Genya Shinazugawa.
A swordsman from the same period as Tanjiro in the original story.
Though called a swordsman, he couldn’t use any Breathing Styles.
Instead, he fought with a double-barreled shotgun.
But that wasn’t the key.
The key was his special constitution: he could eat the flesh of demons to temporarily transform himself into one.
After transforming, he could even use the Blood Demon Arts of the demon he had consumed.
That was incredibly powerful.
*I need to find a way to get into the Demon Slayer Corps and find Genya.*
At this point, Genya was likely still training under the Stone Hashira and hadn’t become an official member yet.
Shiro shifted his gaze back to the Ugly Demon.
“In that case, you might as well die.”
Once he reached the Demon Slayer Corps, he could find any number of demons.
It was better to eliminate this eyesore now to prevent Muzan from looking this way.
If Muzan got interested in Shiro’s unique abilities, it would be a massive headache.
Shiro thought for a moment and, filled with killing intent, severed the demon’s remaining limbs.
A wave of pain originating from its very soul caused the creature to scream:
“ARGH!”
The shrill cry echoed through the cave.
“Hm, not bad.
A Zanpakutō backed by killing intent causes effective damage to demons.
Now, how about this?”
“Hadō #4: Byakurai (White Lightning).”
A blinding flash of light streaked through the air as lightning struck the demon.
Shiro wasn’t a Captain-level Soul Reaper yet, and the power of a *Byakurai* without an incantation wasn’t overwhelming, but it charred the demon’s flesh.
The demon’s regeneration seemed to vanish.
No matter how much it shrieked, the areas blackened by the lightning refused to heal.
“So they can’t immunize against any attack infused with spiritual energy?
I see.
Aside from their Blood Demon Arts, demons aren’t much after all.”
Shiro gave a light chuckle and brought the Zanpakutō down, severing the Ugly Demon’s head once and for all.