"What should we do next, sir?"
The black-haired demon casually tossed Kawasaki Nagare beside Aoi, then suddenly spoke respectfully.
At that moment, on the roof of the small cabin, against the violent snowstorm, stood a man wearing a black floral-patterned suit and a white top hat. His face beneath the hat's brim was strikingly handsome.
The swirling snow didn't disturb his hair or wrinkle his immaculate attire.
This man was Muzan Kibutsuji, the first demon who had existed for a thousand years, the absolute ruler of demons, the Demon King.
Muzan looked down slightly, his eyes displaying an unreadable emotion, lost in his thoughts.
In a flash, he appeared inside the cabin, with his back facing Kawasaki Nagare.
Looking at his toes, Muzan noticed a spot of red where he stood, as the entire floor was stained with blood.
It seemed the guardian of the Kamado family was truly dead.
"So much blood, Black Hair, be more elegant."
The black-haired demon knelt immediately, ignoring the blood and dust covering the floor. His whole body trembled, and his once arrogant expression was now filled with fear.
"Forgive me, sir. I will be careful next time."
However, Muzan calmly replied, "There will be no next time for you."
The black-haired demon froze, fear intensifying on his face.
"Master…"
Before he could finish, a large, rough arm violently burst from his mouth, causing him unbearable pain.
Demons feel pain just like humans.
The already dead black-haired demon's body gradually disintegrated into reddish-black ashes, dissipating in the snowy cabin.
To the end, Muzan didn't look him in the eye once.
Muzan first glanced at Aoi and Kawasaki Nagare, then shifted his gaze to the other side, where Nezuko and the others lay dead.
At that moment, his ever-calm eyes brightened as if he had found something desirable.
"This little girl, you shall carry my expectations and survive as a demon."
Muzan's target was a small girl with a round, palm-sized face.
Her black-and-white eyes became vacant, and her originally fair, chubby cheeks turned pale and sickly from blood loss—it was Nezuko.
On her face still lingered a smile of happiness from sleeping beside her family.
In her sleep, Nezuko and the others had their necks broken, spared from pain.
Muzan stepped lightly toward Nezuko.
But he felt a sudden tightness around his ankle and paused.
Looking down, Muzan saw that Kawasaki Nagare's bloodstained hands were gripping his ankle tightly.
"Hm? Still conscious?"
Muzan was surprised; he'd clearly seen the black-haired demon's actions. His iron-like fingers had shattered Kawasaki Nagare's facial bones, an injury that should be fatal without immediate aid.
Such grievous wounds, yet he still retained enough consciousness to stop him.
"Feeble, but this final struggle to protect loved ones... I like it," Muzan said with interest.
Meanwhile, Kawasaki Nagare's consciousness hadn't fully faded, but he was unable to think clearly, lost in a fog.
Muzan squatted down and spoke softly to Kawasaki Nagare.
"You seem to be in great pain. Let go; death can be a release. You lack the power to change anything here."
"Remember, weakness is the greatest sin."
At this point, Kawasaki Nagare's life force had completely faded, his body growing rigid.
Muzan stood up, shifting his leg to shake free of Kawasaki Nagare's hands, the strength pulling Kawasaki's entire body with it.
Yet Kawasaki Nagare held on tightly, refusing to release Muzan's ankle.
Muzan tried again, but the result was the same.
He shook his head, then lightly waved his hand, and a flash of cold light swept through. Kawasaki Nagare's arm shattered from shoulder to fingertip, releasing Muzan's foot.
"Even in death, he won't let go. Interesting."
"Very well… I'll turn you and that girl into demons so that you may both serve me in the future."
Muzan sliced his wrist, releasing a blood thread that divided in mid-air, drifting into both Kawasaki Nagare's and Nezuko's mouths.
"I look forward to meeting you both again."
Tipping his hat slightly lower, Muzan's figure shimmered, then vanished from the dilapidated cabin.
All that remained were pools of blood, corpses, and a pair of siblings beginning their transformation into demons.
**
Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!
After a while, Kawasaki Nagare slowly opened his eyes, his vision tinged with a hint of red.
At this moment, his arms had fully healed, and the five bloody holes on his face and fractures in his bones had all disappeared without a trace; he bore no wounds at all.
Muzan's blood had turned Kawasaki Nagare into a demon.
Aside from some special methods of restraint, demons were essentially immortal and could heal injuries effortlessly.
Kawasaki Nagare's mind was still hazy, his body driven by instinct, licking up the blood on the floor.
Quickly, unsatisfied with the bloodstains before him, Kawasaki Nagare traced the blood to its source.
It led him to a face he could never forget—Aoi.
Fresh blood flowed ceaselessly from Aoi's neck.
Seeing her lifeless, pale face, Kawasaki Nagare's mind shook violently, and he immediately regained clarity.
"What… what have I done?"
At this moment, everything he'd just done became vividly clear in Kawasaki Nagare's mind, plunging him into pain and resistance.
He clutched his mouth tightly, emitting low growls of agony from his throat.
But after a few moments of clarity, the sweet scent of blood became even more potent, and the hunger in his belly was far from sated.
His consciousness blurred again, his eyes shifting from their usual crimson to an intense, blood-red shade.
Struggling to control his body, Kawasaki Nagare tried to back away from Aoi.
But the demon's nature was stronger, making him release his hands from his mouth and open his blood-stained jaws, revealing sharp fangs within.
His face twisted in agony, yet he slowly leaned closer to Aoi.
His mouth stretched to its limit, poised to bite down.
(End of Chapter)