56-60

Chapter 56: Does He Have a Lot of Secrets Too? 

“No way it’s as exaggerated as you make it sound,” Sasha said, her neko-like face flushing with embarrassment. Honestly, she hadn’t thought that deeply about it. 

“I just hope Night City has fewer people who’ve gone through what I have,” the girl said earnestly. She wasn’t the type to get all fired up and impulsive when things happened. 

From her usual way of doing things, she was more the type to plan everything out carefully, keeping things steady and under control before making a move. The only reason she’d ended up in a dangerous situation was because of an unexpected twist she hadn’t seen coming. Otherwise, she definitely would’ve slipped away before the guards showed up. 

“If you ever need help, you know where to find me,” Riku said with a grin, bumping fists with Sasha. He genuinely admired people like her. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay you for it,” Sasha replied with a laugh, her eyes crinkling into crescents. The way she said it almost made it sound like some shady deal. 

“Are they close?” Lucy asked V, stubbing out her cigarette as she watched the Devil and the dark-haired girl chatting and laughing. 

“Tch, of course,” V replied, clicking her tongue. “They just went through some life-or-death stuff together.” How was she supposed to explain it? They’d all just met not long ago, but the experiences they’d shared were pretty intense. 

“Life-or-death, huh?” Lucy gave V a curious look, mulling over the phrase. 

“Looks like you’re gonna get compared to her,” Lucy said, picking up on it instantly. Despite her young age, she was sharp as a tack. 

After escaping from Arasaka’s secret research facility, Lucy had been to plenty of places, only recently settling in Night City. 

“We’re gonna hold you to the standards of a genius, kid,” Jack Welles chimed in bluntly. He actually knew another hacker, T-Bug, who was pretty skilled too. If Sasha was ever too busy, he could always hit up T-Bug—though she might not bother with small jobs. 

Hackers like T-Bug and Kiwee were seasoned pros who could afford to be picky about their gigs. They usually worked solo, like lone wolves, and didn’t join long-term cyberpunk crews, only teaming up for the occasional job. 

For example, Mann’s crew usually worked with Sasha for regular missions. Only for high-stakes, high-reward jobs would Kiwee join in. Once hackers made a name for themselves, they’d often take jobs on their own, even if they had a regular cyberpunk squad. 

Sasha was like that too. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have crossed paths with Riku, V, and Jack Welles in the first place. It was pretty normal— skilled hackers never lacked for work, while the less talented ones? Well, they’d get their brains fried sooner or later. 

“I don’t mind,” Lucy replied curtly, but her tone carried confidence in her skills. 

“That’s the spirit! Young people need that kind of fire,” Riku said, giving Lucy a thumbs-up. He had faith in the “data-mining girl’s” skills—Arasaka’s eye for talent was something you could trust. 

Lucy was a genius hacker handpicked by Arasaka, raised in their secret facilities and used to dig up valuable data from the old Net. She nodded at Riku, feeling his trust and support. 

Even though this Devil seemed tight with Mann’s crew hacker, he didn’t seem to have any issues with her. Lucy was the type to keep her thoughts to herself, saying far less than she felt. With her femme fatale looks and icy, don’t-come-near-me vibe, her heart was actually more delicate and pure than anyone might guess. 

“Oh, by the way, I might be leaving Night City for a few days. Just letting you guys know,” Riku said, nodding to Lucy before turning to V and Jack Welles with the news. 

“Where to? Trouble? Need backup?” V asked, her expression puzzled. Hadn’t Riku just arrived in Night City? He’d barely settled into his new place, and now he had to leave? 

Jack Welles looked over with concern too. If Riku needed help, he’d grab his twin golden “bad girls” and roll out without hesitation. 

“No worries, just a small thing,” Riku said with a wink. Honestly, he was touched by their street-code loyalty—the kind of ride-or-die attitude that’d have someone pull a katana for you without a second thought. 

“If anything comes up, hit us up,” V said, her voice tinged with worry. Riku’s background was, without a doubt, the most complicated among them. 

She exchanged a glance with Jack Welles, both of them sharing the same concern. Whatever Riku was dealing with, it wasn’t simple. 

Old Vic had dropped hints to V and Jack about Riku’s background. It made sense—Vic had known them longer, so it was only natural he’d give them a heads-up about a troublemaker like Riku out of loyalty. 

“Just make sure you eat my share of the ramen so it doesn’t go to waste,” Riku said with a cheeky grin, noticing V’s worried look. 

V immediately flushed, flipping him the bird. “Goddamn it, you make it sound like I’m mooching off your food!” she snapped, though she had been eating his share the past couple of days—to avoid wasting eddies, of course. 

“That’s more like it! You two were looking at me like you were ready to attend my funeral. Talk about bad luck,” Riku said, laughing heartily. He knew V and Jack had misunderstood what he was up to, but he wasn’t about to explain. 

Old Vic’s overactive imagination had done him a favor. Riku could just blame his quirks on some shady company’s bio-experiments. As for which company to pin it on, he hadn’t decided yet. Maybe a biotech corp? Then again, it wouldn’t even be framing them—those biotech bastards were actually messing with super-soldier experiments. 

“I’m heading out. You guys carry on,” Riku said after a couple more jokes, standing to leave. 

“Don’t you dare die, or else…” V squinted, leaving the threat unfinished, but Riku just rolled his eyes, getting the message. 

With a wave and a quick goodbye, he strolled out of Afterlife Bar. 

“What’s he up to?” Lucy asked, her expression confused. She’d been listening quietly, not quite following the cryptic exchange. 

“Can’t tell you yet,” V said, exchanging a glance with Jack Welles. They were in agreement—Riku’s business wasn’t something to blab about. Lucy would need to earn their trust first. 

“Uh…” Lucy trailed off, thoughtful. So, this Devil guy had his own share of secrets, huh? 

Chapter 57: The Villagers Shared Nuclear Fusion Tech with You? 

Riku stepped out of Afterlife Bar onto the streets of Night City. With a bit of time to spare, he mentally ran through a checklist to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. 

A mask, ear covers, and sunglasses were must-haves to hide the “holes” in his body. Even though he’d undergone a full-body cybernetic reskin, it wasn’t that thorough. If sunlight somehow slipped through his ears, who knew if it’d fry his brain? Riku wasn’t about to take that gamble. 

Gloves and a parasol were backup precautions. For convenience during eating or combat, his hands had a one-tap armor-removal function, but if that glitched out, gloves could cover any mishaps. The parasol? A daily essential. It didn’t do much, but it wasn’t like carrying it cost him anything, and it gave him a little extra peace of mind. 

Everything Riku prepped was for self-protection. As for gear to deal with oni (demons), he’d thought about it, but there wasn’t much that worked. UV lamps were a no-go—he’d learned that when the Kamado siblings tracked him down in that cave. It was already daytime, just snowy with thick clouds blocking the sun. Clouds didn’t stop UV rays, though. 

Even so, on cloudy days, Riku could step out, but without his reskin, he wouldn’t dare. The weather in Night City—or anywhere—was as unpredictable as an anime plot twist. What if the sky cleared up out of nowhere? Dying to a sudden “cloudy-to-sunny” shift would be way too pathetic. 

Riku had studied his sunlight weakness thoroughly and concluded it was simple: “No direct sunlight.” Anything else was fine. Pretty mystical, but that’s how it worked. 

As for whether oni had other weaknesses, that was one reason for this trip back. He was dying to find out. 

Strolling along, Riku reached his small apartment just before dawn. He’d picked up a compact backpack on the way, stuffing it with essentials. Not having a “2D storage dimension” was a hassle. 

For weapons, knowing he was heading to a Japanese setting, he’d bought a katana. It was nothing fancy—decent quality, but cheap at just 150 eddies. Compared to firearms that easily cost thousands of euros, blades, even high-quality ones, were a steal. 

Besides the katana, he also packed a handgun—spoils from a previous job—tucked into his bag. Slipping the katana across his back and shouldering the pack, Riku pulled up his system interface. 

“Return to the Past.” 

Without hesitation, he activated the jump. 

The [Return to the Past] menu popped up with world selection options. Riku picked Kimetsu no Yaiba—not like he had other choices. 

[Jump Complete] 

[Current World: Kimetsu no Yaiba] 

In a flash, Riku vanished from his apartment and reappeared in a familiar spot—the same place he’d jumped to last time. 

“Hiss!” 

The moment he arrived, Riku sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t indoors, and it was daytime, with the sun just rising. Golden rays filtered through sparse tree leaves, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The warm, glowing light should’ve felt comforting, but it sent a chill down his spine. 

“I thought I’d finally get to enjoy some sunlight, but this feels like forcing someone with acrophobia to stand on the edge of a thousand-foot cliff,” Riku muttered, shuddering. He checked his thermal converter—body temp was a normal 36.5°C. The chill was all in his head, born from a primal fear of death. 

“Talk about facing mortality every second,” he quipped, easing his nerves as he scanned his surroundings. 

“The snow hasn’t fully melted, but the monkey corpses are gone?” 

The mountain still had patches of snow, suggesting only a few days had passed. But the twenty-something monkey corpses he’d left behind? Vanished. Riku didn’t dwell on it—maybe wild animals dragged them off, or some villagers scavenged them for a stew. Both were plausible. 

“Gotta check the time flow between worlds,” he noted. Time dilation was critical when hopping between realities. The snow and dried blood stains suggested not much time had passed, but he needed to be sure. 

Wasting no time, Riku headed down the mountain. He’d swapped into a plain Western-style suit beforehand, fitting for Japan’s Taisho era. The only thing that stood out was his modern sunglasses. While sunglasses probably existed by then, they weren’t exactly common yet. 

The glasses didn’t do much beyond placebo protection—his modular cybernetic eyes ensured no light leakage. Still, they helped him feel less exposed. 

Soon, Riku reached “the place where the dream began”—the street where he’d encountered Muzan Kibutsuji and been turned into an oni. The village below the mountain wasn’t bustling, but it had a lively, lived-in vibe. Early morning, doors were already opening, and people were starting their day. 

“Hey! You, the weird guy! What’re you doing?!” 

Riku was standing on the street, lost in thought about his “lost humanity,” when someone called out to him. Not just one person, either—a group, including a guy with a gun. Not a katana or spear, but an old-school bolt-action rifle. 

“Uh…” Riku blinked, confused. He double-checked—his optical camouflage was definitely hiding the horns on his head. These villagers couldn’t possibly see through it. No way they were like those Fallout villagers sharing nuclear fusion tech secrets! 

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!” the rifle-wielding man shouted, visibly nervous. His buddies gripped sticks, looking more like a militia than police. 

“Sorry, but what did I do wrong?” Riku asked, exasperated. All he’d done was stand there, quietly mourning his “lost life.” Who’d he piss off?! 

“Too suspicious! Hand over that blade on your back!” the man barked, flanked by his stick-wielding posse. 

“…” 

It finally clicked for Riku. This was the Taisho era, and the “Sword Abolishment Edict” from the Meiji period banned carrying weapons openly. Parading around with a katana made him look like a total sketch. 

“Suspicious guy coming down from the mountain! Did you kill the Kamado family?!” the man added, leaving Riku dumbfounded. What kind of random blame was this?! 

Chapter 58: The Treatment of a Demon Slayer 

“Take him to the police station!” 

“We can’t let the murderer get away! Avenge the Kamado family!” 

“Tanjiro was such a good kid. How could something like this happen to him?” 

The militiaman’s words whipped the crowd into a frenzy, everyone shouting to drag Riku to the police station. 

It was clear the villagers felt deep sympathy for the Kamado family up on the mountain, but they obviously didn’t know the full story. 

If they had even a clue about what really happened, they wouldn’t be pointing fingers at Riku just for carrying a blade. The Kamado family didn’t die from knife wounds, after all! 

“Sorry, there might be a misunderstanding here. I’m a friend of Kamado Tanjiro. I’m here to help find the real culprit. This blade? It’s a family heirloom, brought out for self-defense.” 

Riku gave a polite bow to the crowd, explaining himself with the calm confidence of a seasoned pro. 

“Nonsense! That blade looks brand new. I’m a blacksmith—you can’t fool us!” 

One of the militiaman’s buddies shouted, a burly guy wielding a hammer, looking every bit the part of a blacksmith. 

Riku’s mouth twitched. You’re a blacksmith, so why aren’t you at your forge instead of stirring up trouble out here? 

Still, the guy who sold him the blade hadn’t lied—it really was a fresh-off-the-forge katana! Riku couldn’t help but marvel. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but those 150 credits were well spent. 

“You say… you know Tanjiro? Is he okay? Where is he?” 

Despite Riku’s lie being called out, the mention of Tanjiro caught the villagers’ attention. 

The militiaman still looked wary, but he couldn’t help asking with concern. The others around him wore similar expressions. 

Three or four days ago, something happened to the Kamado family up on the mountain. The whole family was wiped out, except for Kamado Tanjiro and Kamado Nezuko, who survived. 

The villagers figured this out from the graves at the Kamado house, but they hadn’t seen the surviving siblings. No one knew where they’d gone, and the village was worried sick. 

“They’re fine. Tanjiro and Nezuko are safe. They went to Narutaka Mountain to stay with an old man named Urokodaki Sakonji—probably a distant relative or something.” 

Seeing the crowd finally calm down, Riku let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to be branded a psycho killer the moment he arrived, nor did he want to take the fall for Kibutsuji Muzan’s crimes. 

What he didn’t expect, though, was how much weight Kamado Tanjiro’s name carried in this village. 

“Good, good. They’re okay. That kid—why didn’t he come to us for help?”  

The militiaman and villagers visibly relaxed. They knew Tanjiro and Nezuko were alive, but they hadn’t been able to shake their worries. 

“…” 

Riku fell silent. It made perfect sense that Tanjiro hadn’t come to the village. After all, he was traveling with his sister, who had turned into a demon. 

Judging by the villagers’ attitudes, they were likely familiar with Nezuko too. There was no way Tanjiro would risk exposing her by bringing her here. 

“So, how’s your investigation going? Found any leads?”  

After a moment of reflection, the militiaman spoke again, his tone softer as he questioned Riku. 

“I found something. It wasn’t a human. It was a demon.” 

Riku’s expression turned serious as he studied the villagers’ reactions closely. 

“?” 

“A demon? What’s this guy talking about?” 

“Demons? Those are just fairy tales!” 

The villagers erupted in disbelief, shooting Riku strange looks. 

It clicked for Riku in an instant: the existence of demons wasn’t common knowledge in this world. So what about Demon Slayers? 

“Could you be… a Demon Slayer?!” 

Amid the uproar, an old man stepped forward, his eyes sharp with scrutiny. 

“Uncle Saburo, don’t listen to his nonsense! Demons? Demon Slayers? Those are just old legends!”  

Most of the villagers—especially the younger ones—didn’t buy Riku’s story. The older folks, though, stayed quiet. 

The old man, Saburo, lived at the foot of the mountain. He was the one who’d spotted Riku hurrying down with a blade and alerted the village militia. 

“That’s right. I’m a Demon Slayer.” 

Riku leaned into the role. Who says a demon can’t be a Demon Slayer? Heck, vampires can be vampire hunters, right? 

Still, it surprised him that demons and Demon Slayers weren’t widely known, only passed down among the elderly as legends dismissed by the youth. 

Maybe it was the era? Taisho-period Japan had already undergone Westernization, so the old native myths were brushed off by the generation raised in the Meiji era. 

“I don’t care if you’re a Demon Slayer or not. The police will handle the Kamado family’s case. For Tanjiro’s sake, just leave the village.” 

The militiaman clearly wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push to drag Riku to the station anymore. Instead, he just asked him to leave. 

“Alright, thank you.” 

Riku nodded briskly. From the villagers’ heated chatter, he’d already learned what he needed. No reason to stick around. 

Under the militiaman’s wary gaze, Riku left the village. 

As he stepped outside, for some reason, Riku felt a strange kinship with another profession that specialized in hunting monsters. 

Compared to Demon Slayers, though, Witchers probably had a broader scope. The supernatural creatures in the Witcher world were at least known to people, and far more dangerous than this world’s threats. 

“The time flow’s about 1:1. Only three or four days have passed here.” 

Walking along a forest path, Riku summed up what he’d gained from this trip. First, the time flow was clear, which was critical. 

Second, he needed to hide his blade. Throwing it away wasn’t an option—if a fight broke out in daylight, he couldn’t rely on claws, only his katana and gun. 

Riku gathered some dry grass and wrapped it around the blade. It was a bit like hiding in plain sight, but at least it was less conspicuous now. 

While gathering the grass, he confirmed something else: when Shadow Wolf killed animals, it generated that same blood essence feedback. 

The feedback was faint, though—probably because the animals were so weak. 

While Shadow Wolf couldn’t exist in direct sunlight, it was fine in the forest’s shadows, still able to help with hunting. 

“The rats in these mountains are really out of luck.” 

Riku chuckled. His “Hundred Rat Slayer” title wasn’t just for show. 

Just one glance, and the rat that scurried out froze, only to get swatted dead by Shadow Wolf’s claw. 

“I wonder if killing a hundred of something else would have a similar effect, or is it just because rats are too weak?” 

Riku started to ponder. Besides rats, the things he’d killed the most were probably monkeys and the biotech company’s mechanical guards. 

Chapter 59: Been Waiting for You 

“Is it too late to chase after Kamado Tanjirō?” Riku wondered aloud after having Kagerō, his cyber-wolf, mercilessly slaughter a nest of rats, earning him the title of “Hundred Rat Slayer.”  

Kamado Tanjirō was one of the few plot-relevant characters he knew in this world. The Kamado siblings had been recommended to seek out an old man named Urokodaki Sakonji, which screamed “mentor-seeking arc” straight out of a shonen anime. Last time, Riku had opted out of tagging along, worried his weak stats and glaring weaknesses would make sticking with the trouble-magnet protagonist a death sentence. He’d rather grind levels in the mountains, slaying beasts like a true RPG loner. 

But things were different now. Sure, he hadn’t become a “Ten-Mile Slope Sword God,” but his full-body cybernetic reskin meant he no longer had to fear sunlight. He was ready to venture out and make some noise. His(gita, cybernetic body) might be a budget model, but it sounded pretty badass on paper. Immune to blades, guns, extreme cold, blistering heat, water, fire, and even lightning—plus, he could go invisible. Not too shabby. 

“Let’s take it one step at a time. If I could snag an oni, that’d be perfect,” Riku decided, setting his sights on Sagiri Mountain as a loose destination. 

He wasn’t sure if Sagiri Mountain was a safe bet. What if it was one of those “protagonist faces early hardships” zones? If he dove in headfirst, Tanjirō might grab some plot-driven power-up and skip off, leaving Riku, the clueless side character, to get wrecked. 

For now, he just wanted to hunt down an oni for some “basic company training.” He needed to understand the whole oni deal—relying on trial and error wasn’t cutting it. 

“Where do oni even hang out?” Riku mused, chuckling at his own expertise as one himself. First off, they’d be where humans were. Too far from civilization, and you’d just be a starving oni.  

“Thinking about it, cities probably have oni lurking in the shadows. Rural paths and highways, too—especially those must-travel routes where they can snatch a passing traveler for a quick meal.” 

Riku put himself in their shoes, and it made sense. Oni were patient predators, hiding in the wilderness, grabbing the occasional wayfarer to sate their hunger without drawing attention. It was safer than cities, where food was plentiful but the risk of exposure was higher—probably where the Demon Slayer Corps had their bases. Stronger oni could afford to haunt urban areas, but Riku wasn’t ready to tangle with any big shots yet. One bite at a time. He’d start with a small fry to get the lay of the land. 

Naturally, hunting oni meant going out at night. No demon was dumb enough to wander around in daylight, begging to get smoked. 

Riku asked a passerby for directions to Sagiri Mountain. It wasn’t too far, so he stuck to backroads, moving swiftly. His speed was a problem—too fast, and the optical camouflage hiding his horns would glitch out. Budget tech, what can you do? 

He didn’t stop until nightfall, having run all day. Aside from slicing up a few unlucky animals that crossed his path in the forest, he kept moving. Crossing mountains and valleys was no joke—what looked like “just a few peaks away” turned into a grueling trek. If he weren’t an oni with near-endless stamina, this journey would’ve taken ages. 

“Night’s here. Finally feels safer,” Riku said, relieved. As the sun set and darkness blanketed the world, that constant “death is one ray of sunlight away” dread vanished. 

And with night came the oni hunting hour—their time to feast. 

This time, Riku skipped the forest and stuck to a proper road, hoping to run into a reckless oni and save himself the trouble of tracking one down. He entered the mountains again, following a winding, treacherous path. 

Even with his mask on, Riku’s nose picked up the faint, tantalizing scent of humans. “People hiking through the mountains at night? That’s just serving yourself up to an oni on a silver platter,” he muttered. 

It wasn’t surprising. In this era, tales of oni were fading into old wives’ tales. People didn’t believe in them until it was too late. Maybe even Kamado Tanjirō didn’t buy into those stories before his life got turned upside down. 

Sniff, sniff. 

Lost in thought, Riku caught a new scent—sharp, bloody, and unmistakably oni. One of his kind. 

“Well, isn’t this convenient? This demon hunter’s been waiting for you,” Riku said with a grin, his cybernetic eyes glinting in the dark. He’d been tailing a group of travelers, waiting for this exact moment. 

As expected, an oni was hiding in these woods, preying on the group. The travelers—five in all, carrying heavy packs—were trudging through the night for who-knows-what reason. Even without oni in the equation, this rugged mountain path was dangerous at night. One wrong step could mean injury or death. Probably just folks scraping by, risking it all to feed their families. Life didn’t give them much choice. 

Too bad oni didn’t care about their sob stories. To them, humans were just food—no matter how tragic their lives, it didn’t add flavor. 

Gulp. 

In the thick darkness, the sound of swallowing saliva was jarringly loud. The travelers, quietly marching along, noticed the noise but assumed it was one of their own. 

“Hungry already? Hang in there. There’s a shrine up ahead where we can rest,” the group’s leader, an older man, said with a teasing chuckle. 

“I can’t wait! I’m starving!” came a reply—not from a companion, but from a feral oni bursting out of the woods. 

The demon was a mess—wild hair, grotesque expression, built like a beast with strange patterns etched into its muscular frame. Drool dripped from its mouth, soaking its chest as it lunged at the leader with clawed hands. 

Slash! 

Riku, ready for the moment, darted in front of the traveler, katana flashing. With one clean strike, he lopped off the oni’s head. The blade, fresh off the shelf, was razor-sharp and felt great in his hands. 

“Demon Slayer?! Wait—no Nichirin Blade?!” the oni shrieked, its severed head hitting the ground. Its face twisted from terror to confusion. Still talking, it grabbed its head, retreated a few steps, and jammed it back onto its neck, twisting it into place. 

Chapter 60: Iron Fist Interrogation 

“What are you standing around for? Run!” 

Riku casually shouted to the bystanders as he charged toward the demon, who had staggered back a few steps. 

The onlookers didn’t need to be told twice. They were already scared out of their wits. A talking head flying through the air? Who’d ever seen something like that? 

“You… you’re a demon too?!” the demon spat, its head not even reattached yet, but its mouth running nonstop. “This is my hunting ground! Get lost!” 

Its face was like a kabuki mask, shifting from terror to confusion to rage in a split second. Talk about a performance. 

“Shadow Wolf.” 

Riku didn’t bother responding. He’d have plenty of time to interrogate this thing later. 

The shadow at his feet morphed into a streak of light, darting out and materializing into a wolf behind the demon. 

In the cover of night, the shadow’s movement was swift and stealthy. The demon had no idea it was about to get jumped from behind. 

Shadow Wolf pounced, pinning the demon to the ground, its sharp fangs sinking into the demon’s neck. 

The demon’s head and body were still knitting back together, but Shadow Wolf’s bite sent the head rolling off again with a thud. 

Riku drove his blade through the demon’s temple, skewering its head like a kebab. 

Meanwhile, Shadow Wolf kept the demon’s body pinned, tearing off its limbs one by one with savage bites. 

The demon tried to fight back, sprouting new limbs, but every time one grew, Shadow Wolf ripped it right off. 

“I’ll let you have it! Take it all! I’ll find another hunting ground!” 

With its head impaled on the blade and its body restrained, the demon changed its tune faster than a shamisen player. Even a veteran of Sichuan opera would’ve been impressed by the flip. 

“You’re weaker than I expected,” Riku said, lifting the blade to inspect the demon’s head, his expression odd. 

Kibutsuji Muzan, that bastard—what kind of comparison was he making? Compared to this demon, Riku was on a whole other level. 

“Jerk!” 

The demon, thoroughly humiliated, let out a string of curses. 

They were both demons, so who was afraid of who? 

A pair of arms sprouted from below the demon’s neck, flailing wildly to attack Riku. 

But Riku had seen it coming. He’d deliberately held the blade at a distance, just out of reach. 

The demon’s arms were too short to touch him, making its thrashing look almost comical. 

“Oh, nice trick. Is that your Blood Demon Art?”  

Riku raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. Was this the demon’s Blood Demon Art? It seemed… kind of pathetic. 

“Think you’re hot stuff just ‘cause you’ve got a Blood Demon Art?! Or because you got more blood?!” the demon roared, its face twisting with rage. “If I had more blood, I’d be stronger than you!” 

Riku blinked, a bit stunned. Was this demon… jealous of him? 

Jealous that he’d gotten more blood? Muzan’s blood? So, the more of Muzan’s blood a demon gets, the stronger they become? 

Without warning, Riku threw a punch, his fist slamming into the demon’s face with explosive force. 

This wasn’t just any punch—his fists could shatter bullets against his subdermal armor, leaving only scratches or dents. 

The blow caved in the demon’s face, silencing it for the moment. 

Riku directed Shadow Wolf to grab the demon’s body, then carried the skewered head into the forest. Interrogating it on a public path wasn’t exactly ideal. 

Deep in the woods, Riku found an open cliffside with no cover, making sure the sun would hit it come morning. 

“Alright, time to talk. I’ve got questions,” Riku said, his face expressionless as he stuck the blade into the ground and sat cross-legged. 

The demon’s head had healed on the way, but every time it tried to speak, Riku would slug it, flattening its face again. 

After a few punches, the demon finally got the hint and stayed quiet. 

“What do you want?” it asked, eyeing Riku warily. It knew Riku couldn’t kill it, but it was tired of the torture. 

“What’s a Nichirin Blade?” 

Riku started with a term the demon had mentioned earlier—one that had terrified it. 

“A Demon Slayer’s weapon…”  

The demon stared at Riku, confusion written all over its face. Why was this guy asking something so obvious? Wasn’t this common knowledge? 

Wham! 

Riku landed another punch, making the demon see stars and leaving it utterly baffled. 

“What’s a Nichirin Blade?” he asked again, fist poised for another swing. 

“…” 

“A Demon Slayer’s weapon! It can kill a demon by cutting off its head!” the demon shrieked, its voice thick with confusion and fear. 

“Good. No need to yell—I can hear you,” Riku said with a nod. Just as he’d thought: a Nichirin Blade was a weapon that could kill demons. 

Made sense. Demon Slayers needed something to take down demons, just like Witchers had their silver swords for monsters. 

“You don’t have a Blood Demon Art?” Riku continued, his face still a mask of calm, like a cold-blooded inquisitor. 

“No…”  

The demon braced itself for another punch. 

“Hm. Is that because you got less blood, or because you haven’t eaten enough people?” 

This time, Riku didn’t swing. He just kept questioning. 

He knew there was no reason for the demon to lie—if it had a Blood Demon Art, it would’ve used it by now. 

“I got less blood, haven’t eaten many people, and my talent as a demon is garbage,” the demon admitted, its tone painfully sincere after Riku’s iron-fist education. It didn’t want any more punishment. 

Hearing “garbage talent,” Riku’s mouth twitched. He’d gotten the same critique before. 

Come to think of it, his own Blood Demon Art had only awakened after he leveled up his skills. 

So, was Muzan calling him talentless because he was supposed to have awakened a Blood Demon Art but didn’t? 

“What else do you know about Blood Demon Arts?”  

Riku asked, though he wasn’t holding out much hope. This demon’s knowledge seemed pretty limited. 

“Nothing…”  

The demon looked helpless. You’ve got a Blood Demon Art, and you’re asking me, a nobody? Are you just messing with me? 

“What about Demon Slayers?” 

Riku sighed inwardly but kept his face neutral as he pressed on. 

“Uh… that’s all I know.”  

The demon swallowed hard, getting nervous. It had no idea what was wrong with this guy, but it was pretty sure he wasn’t normal. 

(Chapter End)