176-180

Chapter 176: Drawing the Blade, Heart Lost in Bewilderment 

Boom! 

A massive fleshy arm slammed into the floor, shattering it into fragments that scattered across the bizarre space of the Infinity Castle. Muzan Kibutsuji was unleashing his fury without restraint. 

And who could blame him? Lower Moon One, Enmu, who’d just been powered up with his blood, hadn’t even been gone long before the Demon Slayer Corps took him out! 

“Lower Moons! Utterly useless!” 

Muzan smashed the surrounding structures in a rage, his anger practically boiling over. If his earlier meltdown was due to long-simmering frustration with the Lower Moons, this time it was the humiliation of being slapped in the face. 

Enmu died that fast? Muzan even wondered if the guy did it on purpose—took his blood and then threw himself into death’s arms! Could he have died any more efficiently?! 

“Trash!!!” 

Muzan roared. He hadn’t kept Enmu around for no reason. First, the guy’s personality was somewhat to his liking. Second, Enmu’s Blood Demon Art—hypnosis and dream manipulation—had real potential to take out a Hashira with its unpredictable nature. 

Well, it was unpredictable, alright. Unpredictably, he died. 

Muzan glanced at Nakime, the biwa-playing demon. Her head was bowed, her face hidden behind her disheveled hair, expression unreadable. She didn’t dare move a muscle. 

They say serving a king is like serving a tiger, but serving a volatile, infantile tyrant like Muzan? No one, human or demon, understood that pain better than Nakime. The worst part? You couldn’t even let yourself complain. 

Nakime rarely spoke, often emptying her mind to function like a machine, obeying Muzan’s every command. That, in itself, was a skill—honestly, not many could pull it off. 

“Summon the Upper Moons!” 

Muzan admitted he was getting desperate. No matter what, that Hashira who kept humiliating him had to die today! 

“Yes.” 

Nakime responded instantly. Hesitation wasn’t an option with a boss who’d kill you on a whim. 

Swish! Swish! Swish! 

Seven figures appeared in the Infinity Castle. Despite there being only six Upper Moon slots, seven demons stood before him. 

“Find that person! Kill him!” 

Muzan didn’t wait for the Upper Moons to speak, barking his orders with barely-contained fury. The Upper Moons, still unclear on the situation, immediately sensed something major had gone down. 

They’d served Muzan for a long time, and in their memory, it had been ages since anything pushed him to this level of rage. Well, except for Upper Moon One, Kokushibo, who’d seen Muzan truly lose it before. For the others, this was a first, and they were stunned. What could’ve driven Muzan Kibutsuji to such a meltdown? 

Swish! Swish! Swish! 

Before they could say anything, they were teleported out, sent to the same area where Lower Moon Four and Lower Moon One had fallen. 

“Anyone else coming? If not, I’m outta here.” 

In the small village where Lower Moon One had died, Riku was lounging, bored out of his mind. He was waiting for more “experience points,” for the next delivery to show up at his door. 

He’d taken out Lower Moon Four, which lured in Lower Moon One. Now that Lower Moon One was dead, surely it was time for an Upper Moon to roll up with the next delivery, right? 

“Oh, crap, I forgot to warn the others. This area’s about to get seriously dangerous. Gotta evacuate the villagers and the Demon Slayer Corps ASAP.” 

Riku suddenly realized this as he waited. He wasn’t scared of Lower or Upper Moons, but others weren’t like him. 

From the intel Lower Moon One had spilled, it was clear these demons couldn’t pinpoint the exact spot where their comrades died. Otherwise, Lower Moon One would’ve gone straight to where Lower Moon Four bit the dust instead of causing a ruckus to draw him out. 

That meant if an Upper Moon showed up, they’d likely be wandering around nearby, searching for him. If they ran into other Demon Slayer Corps members, it’d be a disaster. Lower Moons could already wipe out regular members in seconds—Upper Moons would be even worse. 

Sure, Lower Moon One hadn’t even gotten to use his abilities before Riku took him out, but Riku knew how dangerous that demon could’ve been to regular Corps members. Even a Hashira might’ve been caught off guard. The ability he’d taken from Enmu wasn’t weak by any means. 

And the Upper Moons? They’d never been defeated. Almost every one of them had multiple Hashira kills under their belt. Even the Mist Hashira, Muichiro Tokito, who was nearby, probably wouldn’t escape unscathed if he faced an Upper Moon. 

But before Riku could go find the Demon Slayer Corps, members started trickling in. 

The fleeing villagers hadn’t just run into Riku—other Corps members had encountered them too. The kasugai crows were spreading the word, calling for backup. Riku had just been the first to arrive. 

Several Demon Slayer swordsmen, gripping their Nichirin Blades, cautiously approached Riku. He sat casually on the steps of the village square, two long swords resting beside him, surrounded by demon corpses. The villagers who’d been put to sleep by Enmu’s abilities had already been woken and evacuated. 

“Hey, what happened here?” 

The lead swordsman spoke up, likely a Kinoe or Kinoto rank, given he was leading a small team. 

His expression was stern. They’d originally come to assist Mist Hashira Muichiro Tokito in hunting Lower Moon Four, but not only did they miss that target, they’d stumbled into this emergency. Tonight was one hell of a night. 

“Lower Moon One was causing trouble here. I took care of him.” 

Riku’s answer left the swordsmen stunned, clearly shocked by the claim. 

“Who are you?” 

The lead swordsman was cautious, not fully buying the story since there was no proof. 

“Demon Slayer Corps Special Advisor. Ask your Oyakatama-sama if you want confirmation.” 

Riku replied nonchalantly, cutting off further questions and issuing orders directly to the swordsman. 

“Tell the other members to clear out of this area immediately. Get the Kakushi to help evacuate the nearby residents.” 

Riku’s tone was firm. Better to play it safe and get everyone out. If no Upper Moon showed up, it’d just be a day or two of inconvenience. They could always come back. The Demon Slayer Corps wasn’t short on cash—any losses could be covered by the Ubuyashiki family. 

Money talks, and the Ubuyashiki clan’s wealth was why the Corps had thrived for so long. 

“Uh…” 

The swordsmen exchanged glances, clearly confused. First, they’d never heard of a “Demon Slayer Corps Special Advisor.” Second, why evacuate? Hadn’t Lower Moon One already been dealt with? 

Before they could ask, a young boy arrived, instantly becoming the center of attention. 

The Hashira held significant authority, and all swordsmen were under their command. Though Muichiro Tokito was young and hadn’t been a Hashira for long, the swordsmen clearly recognized him. 

In a world where they lived with their heads on the line, strength and combat prowess were everything. Muichiro, the Mist Hashira, had become a Hashira just two months after picking up a blade—a true prodigy and a ruthless fighter. No one dared question his authority. 

“What’s going on?” 

Muichiro looked at Riku, lips pursed. Had he been beaten to the punch again? Did this guy have some way of tracking demons? 

“As you can see, the trouble here’s been handled.” 

Riku replied. He had no ill feelings toward the genius teen. Muichiro might be a bit odd, but he wasn’t the type to pick fights. He’d probably cooperate. 

“…” 

As expected, Muichiro was silently exasperated. He’d been running around all night, only for Riku to take out Lower Moon Four and handle this new emergency. 

“Oh, right, you’re a demon.” 

Muichiro suddenly recalled. Riku’s name sounded familiar—wasn’t he the guy brought up at the Hashira meeting? That explained it. A demon would naturally track down other demons faster. 

Before coming, Muichiro had received a message from Oyakatama-sama via his kasugai crow, confirming the weight of Riku’s “Special Advisor” title. Now, he finally remembered where he’d heard the name—a meeting months ago had been dedicated to discussing him. 

For some reason, missing one Hashira meeting made Muichiro feel like he was out of the loop. 

“A demon?!” 

Muichiro’s words sent a shockwave through the growing crowd of swordsmen, who instinctively tightened their grips on their blades. 

“Have them leave. Lower Moon One came here because he knew Lower Moon Four died. Now that he’s gone, there’s a chance even stronger demons—maybe Upper Moons—will show up.” 

Riku ignored the swordsmen’s wariness, speaking directly to Muichiro, the only one with the authority to command them. 

“Upper Moons?” 

Muichiro frowned. Stronger than Lower Moon One? That could only mean Upper Moons. But he didn’t get it—this had never happened before. Killing a Lower Moon attracting more demons? That was new. 

“Better safe than sorry. If I’m wrong, no harm done. But if I’m right…” 

Riku shrugged with a carefree expression, leaving the choice to Muichiro and the swordsmen. He’d said his piece. If they didn’t listen and got themselves killed, that was on them. 

“Makes sense.” 

Muichiro nodded. As a Demon Slayer, he couldn’t justify retreating knowing demons might come. Fleeing at the sight of a demon? What kind of Corps member would he be? But Riku was right about one thing—evacuating civilians was a priority. Slaying demons was the Corps’ duty, not the villagers’. 

“Ginko.” 

Muichiro called his kasugai crow, who’d been hiding behind him since spotting Riku but now poked her head out. 

“Do as Mr. Riku says. Notify everyone to evacuate the nearby residents, then regroup.” 

Muichiro’s orders made Riku glance at him in surprise. This kid’s demeanor was pretty aloof, huh? 

Sure, the swordsmen had a duty to stay and help, but knowing they’d likely just be cannon fodder, Muichiro could’ve sent them away. No need for pointless deaths. Still, Riku couldn’t fault him—Muichiro’s decision was by the book. 

Riku didn’t say more. His “Special Advisor” title didn’t make him part of the Corps, and even if he spoke up, the swordsmen wouldn’t listen. Some might even want to stay, hoping to make a name for themselves. 

Meanwhile, Upper Moon One, Kokushibo, stood frozen in place among the other Upper Moons, as if still processing. But his mind was racing. 

“Could it be… the Sun Breathing has reappeared in this world?!” 

Muzan’s reaction led Kokushibo to a massive misunderstanding. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else that could push the Demon King to such a meltdown. 

Thanks to the Upper Moons’ stellar track record—killing numerous Hashira—Muzan treated them with a bit more courtesy. As a result, they didn’t fully grasp how easy it was to set him off. 

“Sun Breathing…” 

The thought of Sun Breathing resurfacing set Kokushibo ablaze. He’d gone to such lengths, killed so many, and yet it had somehow survived! 

“I’ll kill every last one of them.” 

Kokushibo gripped his sword hilt, his resolve unshakable. His purple kimono, patterned with black snake-like designs, paired with black hakama featuring five distinct pleats symbolizing the five Confucian virtues—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust—was almost comically ironic for a demon like him. 

Upper Moon One’s deep red hair was tied into a high ponytail, with red markings on his left forehead and right neck. He had three pairs of eyes, their sclera red, irises golden, with “Upper Moon” and “One” etched into the irises of his central pair. 

Kokushibo took a step forward, then stopped. 

Though he’d resolved to eliminate every Sun Breathing user, he had no idea where to start. Muzan had teleported them here without a word—who to kill, what they looked like, where they were. Nothing. 

It left Kokushibo with a sense of drawing his blade, heart lost in bewilderment. 

I get that you’re panicking, but do you have to be this panicked?! Kokushibo couldn’t help but question Muzan in his mind. 

Chapter 177: Bro, You Don’t Look Tasty At All 

When six Upper Moons gathered in one area, aimlessly wandering around, the danger level was obvious enough to imagine. 

Some Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen had already run into Upper Moons, and their fate was no surprise. As Kasugai Crows frantically relayed messages, Riku and Tokitou Muichiro sensed something was seriously off. 

“This can’t just be one demon, right?” 

Riku’s expression was a bit strange. The crows’ reports were chaotic, but one thing was clear: the attacked swordsmen weren’t taken down by the same demon. 

“If you consider that some crows didn’t even make it back, there have to be at least four or five demons. They can’t all be Upper Moons, can they?” 

Tokitou Muichiro’s usual deadpan expression cracked. Three crows had already returned, reporting demon attacks. In each case, the swordsmen were instantly obliterated without a chance to fight back. 

The crows took flight immediately, realizing they had to warn everyone to evacuate. 

Riku pursed his lips. It was hard to say, but this felt like a full-on assault. Were the Upper Moons acting on their own, or had that Demon King completely lost it? 

“Let’s move, Mist Hashira! This is a trap. If we don’t leave, everyone’s dead. We can’t win this!” 

The crows squawked in a frenzy, urging Tokitou Muichiro to get out. Staying here to die was pointless. 

They needed to regroup, gather more strength—at least get all the Hashira together! 

Tokitou’s crow, Ginko, was especially frantic. To her, Muichiro was a prodigy with a bright future. He couldn’t just die here like this! 

“…” 

Muichiro glanced at Riku. Sure, he had a weird personality, but he wasn’t stupid. If it was just one Upper Moon, he’d stay and fight, no question. But this situation? It was on a whole different level. To become a true powerhouse, confidence was essential, but arrogance was a death sentence. 

Muichiro wasn’t arrogant enough to think he could take on multiple Upper Moons alone. That wasn’t confidence—it was insanity. 

“Don’t look at me. I’m not like you guys.” 

Riku sat there calmly, showing no signs of leaving. His words gave Muichiro a “courage in the face of danger” vibe. No wonder they were trained by the same master. 

“There’s definitely something off about old man Urokodaki’s teaching methods.” 

Muichiro said it bluntly. He didn’t talk much, usually giving off a cold, indifferent vibe by mimicking his older brother, Tokitou Yuichiro. But when he did speak, his words cut deep. 

It wasn’t really him—it was his brother’s personality. Yuichiro was brutally blunt, always calling Muichiro useless and refusing to let him do anything, even keeping him out of the Demon Slayer Corps despite his prodigious talent. 

Muichiro didn’t get it at first. Only after Yuichiro’s death did he understand: his brother was protecting him. To Yuichiro, other people’s lives didn’t matter as long as the two of them could live safely. 

Now, mimicking his brother made Muichiro feel like Yuichiro was still alive, still watching over him. It was instinct—he’d lost his memories and didn’t even realize he was copying his brother’s behavior. 

“Get out of here. Mortals don’t belong in the fight that’s coming. I’ll test the weight of these Upper Moons.” 

Riku waved dismissively, signaling Muichiro to take his people and scram. Too many small fry would just get in the way. 

“You’re really not leaving?” 

Muichiro made his decision quickly. Pointless sacrifices were out of the question. Against one Upper Moon, he’d take the lead, and with everyone pitching in, they might even win through sheer numbers. At worst, they could hold out until dawn, making their deaths worthwhile. But this? This was a no-win scenario. He had to prioritize the lives of the other swordsmen. 

Cold as he was, he wasn’t heartless enough to watch his comrades die for nothing. If they were going to die, it had to mean something. 

“I can leave anytime I want. Even if all six Upper Moons show up, they can’t stop me. Not even Muzan Kibutsuji himself could.” 

Riku stood up, straightened his clothes, and spun his sword with a flourish, radiating confidence without a hint of fear. He wasn’t bluffing—with the system backing him, he could talk big. 

“…Good luck.” 

Muichiro wanted to throw out a sharp jab, but seeing Riku’s calm confidence, he held back. 

“Just go.” 

Riku nodded with a smile, urging him to hurry. He’d make some noise here to draw the Upper Moons’ attention. 

“Let’s move.” 

Muichiro nodded without hesitation. Under his lead, the Demon Slayer swordsmen retreated. The decision let everyone breathe a sigh of relief, their tension easing. 

With a Hashira leading them, they wouldn’t run from a single Upper Moon. They didn’t know the true power of an Upper Moon and figured with a Hashira, they might stand a chance. Deserting, though? That could cost them their jobs or worse—severe punishment. 

The Ubuyashiki clan’s influence was massive. Even if they were killed, no one would seek justice for them. 

But with multiple Upper Moons? No matter the consequences, running was the only option. They weren’t brainless NPCs in a game—real people with their own thoughts weren’t about to die for nothing. 

Muichiro’s call spared them the impossible choice. 

The swordsmen were quietly grateful to Riku. Thanks to him, they’d evacuated the nearby villagers in advance. Otherwise, Muichiro wouldn’t have made this call. 

And Riku stayed behind to draw the demons’ attention. Demon or not, this guy was seriously clutch! 

As Muichiro led the others away, Riku clapped his hands. A shadowy spire shot up from the ground, growing taller and taller. He stepped onto its peak. 

The spire stretched to twenty or thirty meters, towering over the surrounding buildings and trees. In this area, with no tall structures or giant trees, it was visible even from the woods. 

Ahem. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Upper Moons, here’s a little song for you—a punk rock hit from 2034, Shaking Gina in Gallinari. Hope you enjoy it.” 

At the spire’s peak, Riku pulled out a speaker. It was a homemade gadget from his tech practice—nothing fancy, just loud. For a beginner, getting it to make noise was the goal. 

Since he’d been self-studying medicine, electronics, programming, and cybernetic mods, his shadow space was stuffed with random junk. Like a struggling student with too many pens, he was all about quantity. 

Clap clap. 

Riku tapped the speaker, shaped like a horn with a sturdy base, sitting steadily atop the spire. 

Shaking Gina in Gallinari blared. As a punk rock anthem, it wasn’t exactly “good” by Riku’s standards—he couldn’t stand it. 

The lyrics? Well, the title said it all. No need to dig deep—it wasn’t high art. The song was a repetitive chant, detailing the event and the feelings of the, uh, participants. 

In one word: thrilling. 

What Riku couldn’t handle was the style. The song was chaotic, with a simple, fast melody and rough production. The singer sounded like they were shouting, all about speed and raw energy, like it was trying to shake the listener’s ears. It had an unpolished, pre-record-industry vibe. 

Honestly, Riku was shocked this niche culture had gone mainstream. But thinking about the Cyberpunk world, it made sense. The soil was perfect for punk rock to thrive. 

People were fed up—sick of glossy, corporate-packaged music, the ruling class, capitalism, and a world where companies controlled everything. The masses were seething. 

Punk rock—chaotic, raw, rebellious, and destructive—became their outlet, a way to vent their rage. 

Johnny Silverhand, that legendary musician, leaned into this vibe. “Rockboy” became a job and a cultural symbol of rebellion against capitalism, governments, and corporations. No wonder a concert could spark an attack on Arasaka Tower. 

Boom boom boom! 

The wild music tore through the night. Amplified by Riku’s custom mega-speaker, it was impossible to miss. Nights were quiet—any noise carried far, let alone this “racket.” 

The Upper Moons might not get the lyrics, but they’d know the music was bait to lure them in. 

The first to arrive was a… pot. He was closest, rushing over the moment the music started. He was determined to complete Muzan’s orders—no other Upper Moon could steal his thunder! 

“What the hell is that?” 

Perched atop the shadow spire, Riku spotted the first Upper Moon and couldn’t help but roast him. 

The Upper Moon drifted out of a pot like a genie, utterly bizarre. He looked like he’d been dunked in nuclear waste. 

His mouth was where his eyes should be, with one eye on his forehead and another where his mouth belonged. Yellow eyeballs, green lips, ghostly white skin, and purple fins sprouting from his head. His upper body was jacked, but his arms were tiny, with multiple pairs—even some growing from his head. 

With a look like that, even Riku, who was itching to taste some Upper Moons, lost his appetite. “Bro, you don’t just not look tasty—you’re straight-up radiating stench. I’m legit worried about nuclear contamination!” 

Riku grabbed the speaker, collapsed the shadow spire, and landed on the ground in front of the Upper Moon. He turned the music down a bit—otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to talk. 

“Upper Moon Five? Man, you’re too ugly. I get that low charisma makes us look scary or villainous, but your low charisma? It’s just because you’re that hideous.” 

Riku spotted the markings in the demon’s eyes: one for “Upper Moon,” the other for “Five.” Unlike the Lower Moons, who crammed it all into one eye. 

“W-What?!” 

Riku’s opening line hit Upper Moon Five like a truck. His already confusing face twisted with rage—he clearly didn’t appreciate the critique. 

“I said you’re ugly.” 

Riku repeated himself, puzzled. What was up? Did Upper Moon Five actually care about his image? 

“Tch, what a cheap provocation. You think that’ll throw me, Gyokko, off my game? Don’t make me laugh—tricks like that won’t beat me.” 

After the initial fury, Gyokko calmed down, sneering as he started bantering with Riku. 

“I’m just being honest. My best trait is keeping it real. And whether you’re thrown off or not, what’s it to me? You don’t actually think you’re strong, do you? If you’re that strong, how come you’re only Upper Moon Five? Couldn’t beat the top four in a blood battle? Real strong, huh.” 

Riku grinned, unloading on him. Gyokko was acting all high and mighty for the second-to-last Upper Moon? 

“Annoying brat! I, Gyokko, just don’t bother fighting them! I’m an artist! Only I can resonate with that lord! Only my art earns his admiration! The other Upper Moons aren’t even worth a single hair of mine! That lord wouldn’t spare them a glance!” 

Riku’s words clearly struck a nerve. Gyokko was getting heated—way more than when he was called ugly. It clicked for Riku: this guy was a hardcore Muzan stan, blindly worshipping him. 

“Haha, you’re mad, you’re mad! Can’t beat the others, so you’re flexing other skills now? Just a guy making chamber pots for Muzan. But honestly, your pots look pretty mid.” 

Riku whipped out the ultimate “he’s mad” card, then zeroed in on Gyokko’s pride. Compared to Riku, who’d spent years defending his (nonexistent) parents online, Gyokko’s clapback game was weak. 

Oh, right—Riku didn’t have parents. Never mind. 

“Bastard! You dare insult my pots?! Dare say my pots are flawed?! I’ll twist your head off and turn it into a chamber pot!” 

Gyokko loved to argue, talkative and hot-tempered—the perfect type to get rattled. With such an obvious weak spot, he was begging to be broken. 

Blood Demon Art: Thousand Needles, Fish Kill! 

Fuming, Gyokko summoned a pot with waterweed patterns. Goldfish popped out, cheeks puffed, spewing poison needles like machine guns. 

Riku didn’t move. A shadow shield formed in front of him, effortlessly blocking the needles. It was a test of Gyokko’s attack power, and the shield took it without a hint of strain. 

“Upper Moon Five? That’s it? Let’s see how you handle this.” 

Riku pulled a rocket launcher from his shadows, grinning wickedly as he fired. 

Boom! 

A massive explosion rocked the area, smoke billowing where Gyokko stood. No way a portable rocket launcher should hit that hard, but future tech was just built different. Times had changed! 

Chapter 178: A New Dish is Served 

Boom!!! 

A deafening explosion tore through the night sky, the smoke from the blazing fire visible from miles away. The sheer power of it left everyone stunned. 

Caught off guard, Yugutama, the Upper Rank Five demon, was hit dead-on. He lost because of his outdated mindset, because he’d never seen anything like this before. After all, he was an old-timer, over 150 years old, and an orphan from a poor background. Even after becoming a demon, he was obsessed with the art of pottery, completely out of touch with the modern world. 

Before the smoke could clear, Riku’s shadow transformed into three giant wolves that charged forward, lunging straight for Yugutama in the midst of the haze. 

“You dare destroy my pots!”  

From within the smoke, Yugutama, his body shattered into pieces by the blast, immediately regenerated his two mouths and let out a furious roar. 

The moment the rocket exploded in front of him, he was utterly baffled. It was just a strange, oversized projectile—how could it unleash such terrifying power? The explosive shockwave had torn his body apart, scattering fragments everywhere. 

But this wasn’t enough to kill him. The weapon’s destructive force was immense, but it lacked the power of the sun. No matter how battered he was, it couldn’t finish him off. 

What truly broke Yugutama’s heart was the destruction of his beloved pots. Several of them, which he used for teleportation, had been placed nearby, and the explosion had obliterated them all in one go! Those were his masterpieces, his life’s work!  

At this moment, Yugutama was consumed with rage. He cared about nothing except his pots and his idol, Kibutsuji Muzan. And this punk had just trampled all over his precious creations! 

“Roar!” 

But before Yugutama could start regenerating, the giant wolves charged in. Facing the scattered chunks of his body, the three wolves split into dozens of smaller shadow wolves, immediately devouring the pieces. 

“You bastard! What are you doing?!” 

Feeling the energy draining from his body, Yugutama was dumbfounded. He couldn’t comprehend how these shadow wolves were stealing his power! 

Despite his screams, the shadow wolves were unfazed, swiftly consuming his body parts. The explosion had conveniently broken him into bite-sized chunks, perfect for the wolves to swallow whole—some even had a slightly charred flavor. 

Desperate, Yugutama tapped into his power, accelerating his regeneration and racing to reclaim his body from the wolves.  

In all his years as a demon, he’d never encountered anything like this. The loss of his energy sent a chilling sense of danger coursing through him—a creeping fear of death closing in. 

Yugutama had a unique ability: he could freely teleport between his pots, like instant movement. That’s why he always set up several pots before a fight, which explained why his losses this time were so devastating. 

His control over the pots was one manifestation of his Blood Demon Art, which also allowed his pots to contain unique storage spaces. The space inside his pots was likely larger than Riku’s shadow realm, and each pot’s space was independent. Yugutama stored different items in pots with distinct patterns. 

“Blood Demon Art: Takotsume Hell!” 

In a moment of crisis, Yugutama pulled out a pot etched with an octopus pattern. A house-sized giant octopus emerged, its tentacles flailing wildly, grabbing at the scattered shadow wolves to drive them off and help Yugutama regenerate. Blown to pieces like this, even as an Upper Rank, he couldn’t recover instantly. 

“As expected, an octopus is the go-to for water-based monsters. It wouldn’t feel right without one showing up,” Riku remarked. 

Charging into the smoke, Riku didn’t hesitate to slash at the octopus’s tentacles. Several shadow wolves had already been swatted away, while the rest dodged the attacks. 

His blade struck, but the octopus’s tentacles were soft and elastic, resisting his slashes with a strange resilience. Riku pressed down with his thermal katana, a futuristic weapon that showcased its sharpness by slicing clean through the tentacles. 

The creature visibly flinched in pain but made no sound. Its remaining tentacles stopped chasing the shadow wolves and instead surged toward Riku in a furious onslaught. 

Boom! 

Riku leaped aside, and the tentacles slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. This octopus was massive, the size of a small house, and its strength was no joke. If this weren’t the village square, it could’ve easily wrecked the entire place. 

Riku commanded his shadow wolves to merge into a single giant wolf. Even combined, it was no match for the octopus’s size, but its eyes began glowing a menacing blood-red. 

Buzz! 

The giant wolf unleashed its hypnotic ability, targeting both Yugutama and the octopus with a mental assault. Yugutama was unaffected, but the octopus froze for a moment. 

Riku’s blade, nicknamed “Mend,” danced wildly, dismembering the octopus in an instant. The flailing creature fell silent, and the shadow wolves scattered again, resuming their feast. 

[Constitution +1], [Agility +1], [Strength +1]. Riku hadn’t eaten much, but the feedback was already impressive. 

“Upper Rank for a reason. You didn’t disappoint,” Riku said, eyes gleaming. This was the first time he’d gained Agility and Strength boosts—far better than those small-fry demons. 

Not only was his strength increasing, but the shadow wolves were evolving too. Black scales began forming on their bodies, boosting their defense, and their shadow realm was growing. 

“Aaagh!” 

Yugutama, despite his immense power, was helpless and could only rage. But he was gradually regenerating, his body slowly taking shape. Then, he felt it—an unprecedented weakness. 

Clang! Clang! Clang! 

Yugutama flung out ten pots etched with sticky-fish patterns. The pots began spewing countless sharp-toothed fish, surging toward Riku and the shadow wolves like a tidal wave. The fish swarmed like locusts, their razor-sharp teeth ready to devour everything in their path. 

Without hesitation, Riku pulled out a Kenritsu-brand flamethrower. As a market-tested product and one of Kenritsu’s flagship items, it unleashed its full potential. 

Whoosh! 

Flames roared out, as if to burn the world to ashes. The fire was ferocious, living up to the flamethrower’s reputation. Even Riku, unprepared, felt the searing heat. Only someone with his cybernetic enhancements could wield it without protective gear. This wasn’t your average model—it was a battlefield weapon designed to wipe out lightly armored units. 

Riku had spent big on upgrading his cybernetic body and weapons before coming here, stocking up on high-caliber, destructive gear to compensate for his lack of area-of-effect attacks. His focus had always been on physical enhancements, leaving him short on ranged options. 

When skills fall short, gear makes up the difference. Rockets, flamethrowers—these were affordable, off-the-shelf solutions, easy to acquire with the right connections. 

The fish swarm was reduced to a field of roasted carcasses under the flamethrower’s onslaught, falling like a rain of fire. Yugutama stood frozen, stunned. 

He hadn’t expected humans to wield such power. No—what was this guy? 

“Blood Demon Art: Flying Blood Scythe!” 

While Yugutama was reeling, a razor-sharp, blood-red blade whistled through the air, aimed straight for Riku’s neck. 

Riku, engrossed in torching everything with the flamethrower, was caught up in the thrill of controlling fire. It was no wonder ACPA pilots grew addicted to their suits’ power, unable to adjust to life without it. 

Facing the incoming scythe, Riku didn’t budge. A shadow wolf darted forward, pinning the spinning blade to the ground with a paw, trapping it as it struggled to return to its master. 

“Nice timing! Worried I wouldn’t have enough to eat?” Riku grinned. 

Clearly, another Upper Rank had arrived. He’d barely started on Yugutama, the Upper Rank Five dish, and now a new course was already here. The Twelve Kizuki sure knew how to serve up fast! 

Riku kept the flamethrower trained on Yugutama while glancing toward the direction the scythe came from, eager for the “new dish” to arrive. 

Weakened from having his essence drained, Yugutama shed his outer skin, revealing his true form. It was more humanoid—muscular upper body, no bizarre little hands, but instead a pair of webbed, blue-green arms. His body was covered in translucent white fish-like scales, and his lower half morphed into a long, blue-green serpentine tail. 

Riku mentally dubbed this form a “naga.” It was a slight improvement over his previous look, though not by much. 

“Yugutama, you’re pathetic,” a female voice sneered. 

The new dish had arrived—a male and female demon. The female, who spoke, had white hair with green tips, wore revealing clothing, and had a stunning figure and face, especially compared to the male beside her. 

The male demon, ugly and disheveled, had black-and-green hair and black spots on his face and body. Emaciated, with a sickly gray complexion, he wore loose blue pants, his upper body bare, and red-black ribbons wrapped around his arms. He held a blood scythe in one hand, the other pinned under the shadow wolf’s paw. 

The male demon strained, trying to recall his scythe. 

“Daki! You’re such a pain! And you, Gyutaro, you spoil her too much!” Yugutama snapped, clearly irritated by the female demon’s taunt. 

Yugutama looked down on the other Upper Ranks, even those ranked above him. Daki, in his eyes, was just a leech riding on Gyutaro’s coattails. He acknowledged Gyutaro’s strength but saw Daki as a spoiled idiot. 

“Shut up,” Gyutaro growled. He doted on his sister and didn’t care for Yugutama’s opinions. Yugutama’s arrogance and constant flaunting of his “art” to Muzan made him a thorn in everyone’s side. No Upper Rank got along with him. 

“Interesting. Upper Rank Six is two demons? What’s your deal?” Riku asked, noticing the kanji in their eyes. Both were Upper Rank Six—why did they get to share a rank? 

“We’re siblings,” Daki replied, licking her lips as she eyed Riku hungrily. He looked delicious, even if he didn’t give off a scent. Her instincts told her he’d be a treat. 

“Got it,” Riku said, nodding. Gyutaro looked only slightly more appetizing than Yugutama, but Daki? She seemed like a real delicacy. Yugutama had already proven that looks could be deceiving when it came to nutritional value, so Riku was starting to warm up to Gyutaro’s potential too. 

“Let’s take him down together!” Yugutama shouted, glaring at Riku with fury and caution. Caught off guard, he’d suffered a major blow. But instead of warning Daki and Gyutaro, he hoped they’d charge in and get crushed too. If they didn’t weaken, they’d surpass him, and he’d lose his rank! 

Chapter 179: What’s This About Face-to-Face NTR? 

No need for Gyokko to spell it out—Daki and Gyutaro were rushing over here for one reason: to take down their target. They weren’t the only ones itching to show off in front of Muzan Kibutsuji. Gyokko, the Upper Moon Five, wasn’t alone in wanting to curry favor with the big boss. Daki and Gyutaro, the Upper Moon Six, had the same urge. 

As the lowest-ranked Upper Moons, Daki and Gyutaro were the “newbies” among the elite. Recommended by Douma, the Upper Moon Two, they didn’t exactly have a deep bond with Muzan. Naturally, they had to put in extra effort to prove themselves. 

Being an Upper Moon came with perks. Earning Muzan’s favor meant more freedom, and he was known to be lenient with the demons he liked. For Daki and Gyutaro, that was a big deal. 

On top of that, Gyutaro had a personal stake in this fight. One of his blood sickles—manifestations of his Blood Demon Art—was still under the control of that shadow wolf. Those sickles were everything to him. Without them, he couldn’t unleash his full power. His entire fighting style depended on those weapons. 

This was the first time Gyutaro had ever failed to retrieve his thrown sickles. Normally, the Pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps could only dodge them desperately. No one had ever managed to seize control of his weapons. Those sickles had claimed the lives of multiple Pillars in the past. 

Getting that sickle back was Gyutaro’s top priority. Losing it weakened him, and that meant he couldn’t protect his sister, Daki—something he absolutely couldn’t accept. 

Without hesitation, Daki and Gyutaro moved as one, charging at the shadow wolf that was pinning down the sickle. The siblings’ teamwork was flawless, almost as if a single mind controlled them both. 

Daki extended her hand, and eight pink sashes shot out—her Blood Demon Art. These sashes, despite their delicate appearance, were razor-sharp, hiding deadly intent beneath their beauty. 

“Blood Demon Art: Eight-Layered Obi Slash!” 

The pink sashes wove a net-like trap, enveloping the shadow wolf. But the wolf wasn’t cut to shreds as expected. Dark scales flickered on its body, deflecting Daki’s attack entirely. 

“What the—?!” 

Daki was stunned, but Gyokko, the Upper Moon Five, was already turning green with rage. Those scales! Those were his scales! The ability he’d worked so hard to perfect! 

Gyokko had been trying to keep his cool, but this was too much. As the victim of this blatant “face-to-face NTR,” he couldn’t hold back anymore. His pride was being trampled! 

Daki wasn’t faring much better. Her pretty face was twisted in shock. She recognized those scales—they were unmistakably Gyokko’s. The Upper Moons knew each other well enough, having even sparred before. Those fish-like scales were straight from Gyokko’s arsenal! 

She shot a glance at Gyokko, her eyes full of suspicion. His face was practically exploding with fury, his complexion visibly green. Wisely, Daki kept her mouth shut and watched. 

“Blood Demon Art: Killing Scales!” 

Gyokko, his anger meter maxed out, lunged at Riku. His serpentine lower body writhed, sliding across the ground with eerie speed. His scales glinted as he zigzagged unpredictably, making it impossible to track his movements. 

This was his plan—keep Riku guessing. A flamethrower wasn’t exactly a precision weapon, and its flames lagged slightly. Even if Riku turned quickly, the fire would trail behind. 

Riku, unfazed, ditched the flamethrower. Why bother if it wasn’t working? Besides, he’d been holding back to avoid burning down the nearby village houses. He didn’t want to cause more destruction than the demons themselves. 

Even with three Upper Moons in play, Riku was confident. This was just an appetizer. He was still waiting for the real heavy hitters—Upper Moon Two or even Upper Moon One. 

Without a word, Riku charged at Gyokko. The Upper Moon Five was clearly unhinged, consumed by rage and likely thinking only of taking down the “yellow-haired punk.” He was completely ignoring his own weakened state. 

The shadow wolf’s relentless devouring of Gyokko’s flesh had taken a toll. This wasn’t just superficial damage—those were permanent losses to his essence. No amount of regeneration could fully restore him. His body was frail now. 

But Gyokko wasn’t thinking straight. He could handle losing in a fair fight, but this? Getting blown to bits, then weakened by being devoured, and now facing defeat without even a proper battle? No one could stomach that. 

Seeing Riku charge, a glint of glee flashed in Gyokko’s eyes. His glowing arms reached hungrily for Riku, completely ignoring the thermal katana swinging toward his neck. It was as if touching Riku would guarantee victory. 

This attitude struck Riku as odd, but not entirely unfamiliar. He’d fought like this before—trade blows, take hits, and outlast the enemy. Demons could afford to play that game; humans couldn’t. 

In battles between demons and humans, it was all about targeting weak points. Demon Slayers trained relentlessly to decapitate with Nichirin Blades—the only sure way to kill a demon. Demons, on the other hand, could attack any vital organ and cripple a human’s fragile body. 

Trading blows was normal, but going for the neck? That was a demon’s critical weak point. Even if a Nichirin Blade hit elsewhere, it wouldn’t be fatal. But a clean cut to the neck? Game over. Riku hadn’t met a demon who could survive that. 

“Is Gyokko really this reckless? Betting I don’t have a Nichirin Blade? Or… does he still think I’m human?” Riku wondered, sensing something off. Gyokko might be inexperienced, but this level of naivety? 

Gyokko’s actions spoke for themselves. Twisting his body, he lunged, determined to touch Riku first. 

“Shadow Shield.” 

Riku didn’t flinch. He swung his blade while summoning a defense. The shadow wolf, morphing through Daki’s sashes, was called back. Before returning, it left a tendril wrapped around Gyutaro’s sickle, flinging it straight at Gyokko. 

The sickle sliced into Gyokko’s back with a sickening thud. 

“?!” 

Gyutaro froze, stunned. He hadn’t expected this. For a moment, he questioned himself. 

“Did I… get stronger?” 

His sickle, even at full power, shouldn’t have pierced Gyokko’s fully manifested scales. Those scales were insanely tough. How could a casual toss break through? 

Splurch! 

Riku’s blade lopped off Gyokko’s head. Gyutaro’s confusion cleared instantly. He hadn’t gotten stronger—Gyokko had gotten weaker. A lot weaker. Those scales were like paper now! 

“How?!” Gyokko’s severed head gaped in shock. He hadn’t expected Riku to react so fast. 

His arms had grabbed the shadow shield, now transformed into a fish—a shadow fish. His tactic had failed. And worse, he realized just how weak he’d become. He couldn’t even block that attack! 

Gyokko was in agony. His prized scales, his pride, were nothing now—pierced and sliced like they were nothing! 

“How?!” 

Then, something even more shocking happened. The shadow fish writhed and reverted back to a shadow, breaking free of its fish form. This shook Gyokko more than his shattered scales. His “Hand of God” Blood Demon Art—his most trusted ability, the key to his status—had failed. 

This “Hand of God” could turn anything he touched into a fish. It had never failed before, more reliable than his scales. Yet now, it was useless. 

Riku’s shadow surged forward, transforming into a massive wolf that pinned Gyokko to the ground. Riku drove his blade through Gyokko’s head, pinning it in place. 

“Man, you’re a real fish-touching pro, huh? Everything you touch turns into a fish,” Riku chuckled. Gyokko’s ability was downright bizarre. Turning a shadow into a fish? What kind of conceptual hax was that? It was mind-boggling. 

Honestly, Riku was impressed. Turning a living thing into a fish was one thing—maybe some kind of instant genetic manipulation, terrifying but explainable. But a shadow? An intangible concept? That was beyond comprehension. 

To prevent any more tricks, Riku had the wolf pin Gyokko’s limbs down. 

“Aaagh!!!” Gyokko screamed as the wolf tore into him. He glared at Daki and Gyutaro. “Do something!” 

His shout snapped the siblings out of their daze. They stared, unable to process the scene. Gyutaro swallowed hard. A demon… being eaten? Was this a dream? It felt too real. 

Daki reacted faster, grabbing her brother’s hand, ready to bolt. “Bro, let’s just run!” 

She was genuinely freaked out. In her mind, demons were the ultimate beings—ageless, free from worries, invincible. Even the strongest Pillars fell easily to them. But now? Gyokko, stronger than both of them combined, was being crushed like a stray dog. And eaten by a wolf! 

Sure, Gyokko was an ugly old creep in Daki’s eyes, but his strength was undeniable. If he was down, what chance did they have? They needed to escape, or they’d die! 

“Don’t be stupid!” Gyutaro snapped, shaking her shoulders to calm her down. Running wasn’t an option. 

Muzan’s orders were clear: kill the target. Deserting now, with time left before dawn and no uncontrollable factors, would mean a fate worse than death. 

“But…” Daki calmed slightly, but Muzan’s pressure loomed large. They weren’t his chosen favorites, and defying him would end badly. 

“Hold it together! The other Upper Moons will be here soon. Once Kokushibo, Douma, or Akaza show up, we’ll win!” Gyutaro urged, trying to rally her. 

But Daki’s expression was still a mess, her worldview shattered. Gyutaro gave up reasoning and took control. His eye shifted to Daki’s forehead—a unique ability allowing him to puppet her body without weakening himself. His ability to multitask and control her in battle was his greatest pride. 

Chapter 180: The Demons Must Pay 

From start to finish, neither Daki nor Gyutaro ever considered saving Gyokko. To Gyutaro, only his sister Daki mattered. To Daki, anyone ugly didn’t deserve to exist in this world. 

Daki’s standards were universal: she refused to eat ugly people or dried-up old folks, preferring those with beautiful faces. That’s why her eyes burned with hunger when she saw Riku—he was practically made for her taste buds.  

But right now, those taste buds were feeling a bit too scorched. She didn’t dare take a bite or even look at him for too long. 

Under Gyutaro’s control, though, Daki steeled herself. She stopped resisting and faced Riku “bravely.” Compared to him, Muzan Kibutsuji was still the scarier prospect. Muzan’s long-standing rule trumped this fleeting fear. 

Gyutaro saw things clearly. Battles were about compatibility. Gyokko might have lost, but that didn’t mean they would! Plus, fighting might not mean death, but refusing to fight? That was a guaranteed death sentence. 

Muzan Kibutsuji would never tolerate demons fleeing out of fear—not even Upper Moons were exempt. 

“Aaagh!” 

Gyokko’s screams echoed as the giant shadow wolf pinned him down, tearing into him. Riku was practically glowing with satisfaction as notifications popped up: [Constitution +1], [Constitution +1]. With every bite the wolf took, Gyokko’s strength drained away. 

Riku’s shadow wolf was a demon’s worst nightmare. Each chunk of flesh it devoured weakened the demon further. For demons used to trading blows and regenerating, this was a death sentence. Now, they were the ones getting weaker as the fight dragged on. 

Riku’s tactics gave the demons a taste of the Demon Slayer Corps’ Pillars’ pain. 

It proved one thing: if both sides had human-like physiques, and demons couldn’t regenerate endlessly, the Pillars might actually stand a chance against Upper Moons. When one side’s only weak point is the neck, their strategies and moves are heavily limited, giving the other side a massive disadvantage. 

Seeing Gyokko’s sorry state, Gyutaro didn’t hesitate. He charged at Riku, swinging his blood sickle with deadly precision, aiming to cleave him in two. 

This time, he was smarter. He kept his remaining sickle close, treating it as a melee weapon rather than throwing it. Losing it would cut his strength in half. 

At the same time, he controlled Daki’s body, sending her sashes flying toward Riku. 

Riku, one hand pinning Gyokko’s head with his blade Borou, turned to face the siblings. Blue-purple spiral armor, Kaku, appeared on his arm, blocking Gyutaro’s strike. As for Daki’s sashes, he ignored them completely. 

The sashes whipped against him but did no damage. Gyutaro’s mind stalled for a moment, but he quickly adapted. The sashes softened, wrapping around Riku to restrain him. Daki, under Gyutaro’s control, pulled tight, while Gyutaro circled, slashing with his sickle. 

The Upper Moon Six had no sense of honor, aiming for Riku’s back while Daki kept him tied up. The sashes held firm, perfectly syncing with Gyutaro’s attacks. 

Riku blocked Gyutaro’s strikes with Kaku, while four scarlet tail-like tendrils, Bikaku, formed an airtight defense. For now, he didn’t bother with the Upper Moon Six’s antics, focusing instead on the rewards from devouring Gyokko. 

“Six points to Constitution, one to Strength, one to Agility, plus Blood Demon Art enhancements: Shadow Scales, Shadow Teleportation, and Hand of God.” 

Riku took a deep breath, marveling internally. Upper Moons were something else—each ability more useful than the last, practically gift-wrapped for him. 

Shadow Scales added much-needed defense to his shadow wolf. Before, the shadow relied on a sluggish, swamp-like resistance. Now, with diamond-hard scales, it combined toughness with durability, enough to give any enemy a headache. 

Sure, diamond wasn’t the hardest material out there—synthetic substances had surpassed it in arms races long ago. In a cyberpunk world, this wasn’t groundbreaking. But it was better than nothing, giving Riku an extra layer of protection. While he could regenerate, avoiding damage altogether was obviously preferable. 

Riku’s mindset had shifted. Trading blows was a last resort when he was weaker. Now, with his strength growing, there was no need to play that game. Taking hits and regenerating should be the final option, not a crutch to tank every attack. He actually admired Gyokko for developing those scales—smarter than most demons who neglected physical defense. 

Shadow Teleportation came from Gyokko’s ability to teleport within his pots. Riku could now move instantly through his own shadow, a seamless and lightning-fast ability with no lag. 

With a thought, his shadow darted forward, and Riku vanished, reappearing where the shadow landed. Gyutaro’s eyes widened in shock. 

What came next made them widen further. Riku grabbed Gyutaro’s sickle, and under his gaze, a layer of shadow enveloped it. The connection Gyutaro had with his painstakingly crafted weapon snapped instantly. 

“How?!” 

In that moment, Gyutaro understood Gyokko’s rage—maybe even more deeply. Unlike Gyokko, who didn’t realize his scales had been stolen, Gyutaro knew his sickle was gone forever. 

This was Riku’s Hand of God—not turning things into fish, but transforming them into shadows, part of his controllable shadow arsenal. 

“Let’s call it Hand of Shadow,” Riku decided. The name Hand of God was a bit much, and his version wasn’t as overpowered as Gyokko’s. It didn’t work on living things or overly large objects, and the transformed items retained their original shape, just melded into his shadow for summoning at will. 

“In a way, it’s like No Knight Dies Empty-Handed,” Riku mused, comparing it to another ability. But his was stronger. The sickle was now his exclusive shadow weapon, completely severed from Gyutaro, who couldn’t reclaim it. 

Riku flicked his hand, and a blood blade shot out, aimed at Gyutaro. Stealing his weapon and using it against him—this was the essence of Hand of Shadow, or maybe Hand of NTR. 

Gyutaro’s rage boiled over. Who wouldn’t lose it in this situation? 

Clang! 

He blocked the sickle, reaching to grab his beloved weapon. But it turned to shadow, slipping through his fingers and returning to Riku like it was fleeing a flood. 

Gyutaro’s eyes filled with bitterness. How had it come to this? He’d had the sickle first—everything was his first! How was it now someone else’s toy? 

Despite the heartbreak, Gyutaro’s mind stayed sharp, his information processing still top-notch. 

He realized they might not last until the other Upper Moons arrived. This monster wasn’t fighting back because it was busy digesting Gyokko. The screams had stopped—Gyokko was gone, reduced to ash. Now, the monster was turning its attention to him and Daki. 

Without a word, Gyutaro made Daki retreat while he went on the offensive. He wasn’t sending her to flee—she was to get help from the other Upper Moons! He’d hold the line. 

This was also a gamble. The siblings had a unique trait: they only died if both were decapitated simultaneously. He wanted to test this. If Daki escaped, even if he was beheaded, he might survive. The uncertainty came from this monster’s abilities, which made him wary of unexpected outcomes. 

It wasn’t killed by decapitation but by devouring. Gyutaro couldn’t be sure he’d survive being eaten—nothing like this had ever happened before. 

Despite the risk of death, Gyutaro acted without hesitation, driven by his love for his sister. He lived to protect her. 

“Brother, let’s go together!” Daki cried, understanding his plan. But under his control, she couldn’t resist. 

Her strength was far below his, and she’d never fought his manipulation. Caught off guard, she couldn’t take back control and could only shout as she was forced to leave. 

“Such touching sibling devotion,” Riku remarked. 

Was this the demon version of the Kamado siblings? 

“You’re putting on this heartfelt sibling drama, but did you ask my opinion? I’m not here for this. I’m here to see demons pay.” 

Riku grinned, transforming into his demon form. His shadow surged forward, splitting into tendrils that twisted toward Daki, aiming to bind the voluptuous demoness. 

Gyutaro tried to intercept, but the tendrils ignored him, zeroing in on Daki. Her sashes lashed out, but a shadow sickle, controlled by the tendrils, hacked them apart. Gyutaro’s heart shattered—his precious weapon was betraying him, hurting his sister! 

His mind spiraled, and he lunged to stop the tendrils. But Riku’s blade slashed him, nearly cleaving him in two. 

The tendrils wrapped tightly around Daki’s wrists, ankles, and neck, stretching her into a star shape. 

“Damn you!” Gyutaro’s rage hit new heights, surpassing even the loss of his sickle. His mind was clouding. 

This gave Daki a chance to wrest back control. But bound by the tendrils, she was helpless, struggling in vain. 

“You’re a demon! Why?! That lord won’t let you get away with this!” Gyutaro shouted, noticing the demonic aura now radiating from Riku after he dropped his human guise. Confusion and fury consumed him. 

“Wrong. I won’t let him get away,” Riku laughed. If eating an Upper Moon was this rewarding, how delicious would Muzan, the Demon King, be? The thought was almost too much. 

“You’re courting death!” Gyutaro couldn’t believe it. Even as an Upper Moon, he was shocked that Riku dared defy Muzan. 

In his mind, even someone as strong as Douma was only Upper Moon Two, and Kokushibo, Upper Moon One, was even stronger—yet neither dared disobey Muzan. He’d never seen Muzan fight, but the bloodline suppression was undeniable. 

What gave this guy the guts to challenge Muzan? To attack Upper Moons? 

Even if he wanted a higher rank, it should be under Muzan’s supervision—a form of entertainment for the Demon King. Muzan would control the fight’s intensity, preventing any “winner takes all” scenarios. Only Muzan could do that. 

Gyutaro couldn’t wrap his head around it, but he didn’t give up. He fought desperately to save his sister. 

His sickle struck the tendrils’ black scales, but despair hit him. Those were Gyokko’s scales—impervious to his attacks. 

Boom! 

The giant wolf pounced, and Gyutaro, hopeless, didn’t dodge. It pinned him down. Covered in scales and shadow fur, the wolf had grown even larger after devouring Gyokko, exuding a majestic, fearsome aura. 

Crunch! 

The wolf bit off Gyutaro’s arm and swallowed it, growing even bigger. Its enhanced size made devouring faster, overpowering the despairing Gyutaro. 

Clang! 

His sickle fell to the ground. Daki’s screams snapped him back, pleading for him to stand and flee, to leave her. A smile crossed Gyutaro’s face. 

Leave her? Impossible. 

He reached for her, but the wolf bit off his other arm and swallowed it. 

“I said, the demons must pay.” 

Riku slashed, severing Daki’s head and kicking it to Gyutaro’s feet. He didn’t know their story, but after years as Upper Moons, it didn’t matter. They deserved this. 

(Chapter End)