6-10

Chapter 6: The Absolute Ability Evolution Plan 

“Hey, Riku-san, want to come along with me?” 

Kamado Tanjiro’s face was full of sincerity. This guy was seriously inviting a stranger—a man-eating creature, no less—to travel with him. 

For a split second, Riku felt tempted. Traveling with a proper “human” like Tanjiro could solve a lot of problems. After all, with his current appearance, he was basically like one of the three disciples trailing behind Monk from Journey to the West. Even if he could talk normally, knocking on someone’s door would likely get him mistaken for a youkai. 

But then it hit him—Tanjiro was a “protagonist,” the kind of guy who always stumbles into trouble. 

When danger comes, the “protagonist” might come out unscathed, but the people around him? Not so much. 

“No thanks, Tanjiro,” Riku said, shaking his head and firmly declining the invitation. 

His reasons were solid. First, he had no interest in playing the unlucky sidekick. Second, he might decide to jump to another world at any moment. Traveling with someone else would just complicate things, and Riku didn’t want to be tied down. 

Tanjiro opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to argue, but Riku didn’t give him the chance. 

“Let’s part ways here. I’ll keep looking for a way to become human again. If I find any leads, I’ll come to Sagiri Mountain to find you. And if you find a way, don’t forget to let me know.” 

Riku laid it all out clearly, leaving no room for Tanjiro to push back. 

“Got it, Riku-san! If I find a way, I’ll come back here to find you!” Tanjiro said, his resolve unwavering. Seeing Riku’s firm stance, he didn’t press further and agreed readily. 

“If I’m not around, just leave a mark here, and I’ll know it’s you.” 

Riku scratched the kanji for “stove” (灶) into the ground with his claw. It was simplified, not too hard to grasp, and Tanjiro memorized it quickly. That’s when he realized Riku was from the neighboring land of Tencho . Before, it was hard to tell from just his name, which could’ve been mistaken for something like Conan or Tanjiro in pronunciation. 

“Alright, we’re heading out! Take care, Riku-san!” Tanjiro said, ready to leave with his sister after their agreement was set. 

But at the cave’s entrance, Kamado Nezuko refused to budge. She shrank back into the cave, sticking close to Riku’s side. 

Seeing Nezuko huddle next to him to avoid the sunlight, Riku reached out and patted the girl’s head. Despite her distressed expression, she didn’t pull away. Riku couldn’t help but marvel. Even though she’d been turned into an oni, Nezuko didn’t seem to have lost any of her charm—unlike him, who felt like he’d been hit with a -10 charm debuff. 

So this debuff doesn’t apply to everyone? Was it because his talent for being an oni was just that bad? 

Sure, losing out on oni talent might not be the worst thing, but it still stung a bit. 

“Nezuko, what’s wrong?” Tanjiro asked, scratching his head, clearly confused by his sister’s reaction. 

“Didn’t that Demon Slayer tell you? Oni can’t handle sunlight. If they get exposed, they’ll turn to ash.” 

Riku explained wearily, still reeling from his own bruised ego. That Demon Slayer really hadn’t told this kid anything. 

“Oh! Right! Tomioka-san said not to take Nezuko out in the sun. So that’s what he meant—oni are weak to sunlight!” Tanjiro exclaimed, slapping his hand in realization as he finally understood Tomioka Giyu’s warning. 

They’d come through the forest earlier when it was cloudy and overcast, with no direct sunlight, so Tanjiro hadn’t noticed the issue. 

“So, if you want to travel during the day, you’d better find something to completely cover her up,” Riku suggested. He’d been mulling over how oni could move around in daylight, but with his current situation, his wild ideas were hard to pull off. 

“Got it!” Tanjiro said, immediately coming up with a plan. He could carry Nezuko in a basket. As long as she stayed inside, she’d be safe. 

The idea came from his life experience. Ever since their father passed, on days when the weather wasn’t good for pushing a cart down the mountain, Tanjiro would carry charcoal on his back to sell. Despite his young age, chopping wood, hauling charcoal, and trekking mountain paths had built up his strength and stamina. 

“Riku-san, please look after Nezuko for a bit. I’ll be right back!” Tanjiro said, bowing politely. This kid was seriously well-mannered. 

“No need to be so formal. Just go,” Riku said, waving him off, signaling he’d take care of Nezuko. 

Tanjiro didn’t hesitate. He dashed out of the cave without a hint of worry, full of trust in Riku. After all, Riku’s diet technically included “oni,” but Tanjiro wasn’t afraid he’d come back to find Nezuko in Riku’s stomach. 

That trust made sense, though. If Riku were that kind of oni, Tanjiro wouldn’t have found his family’s bodies intact. 

After Tanjiro left, the cave grew quiet, leaving just Riku and Nezuko. The atmosphere was a bit awkward. The oni girl, with her bamboo gag in her mouth, stayed close to Riku, as if using his sturdy frame to shield herself from any stray sunlight. 

“So, your ability to not eat humans—did that come at the cost of your smarts?” Riku teased, observing her. He concluded that Nezuko’s intelligence was probably at the level of a toddler. 

“If I ended up like that, I don’t think I could handle it,” Riku sighed. As a lone wolf, he didn’t have a brother like Tanjiro to protect him. He could only rely on himself. 

“But wait, I’ve got the [Limit System] now. That’s not too shabby,” he added, shaking off the self-pity. With the system’s help, he had something better than a protective big brother. 

“I’m back!” Tanjiro called out after a while, returning to the cave. Riku paused his training to look over. Tanjiro was carrying a basket on his back—the one he usually used for charcoal. He’d taken extra time to clean it since it was now for Nezuko, not just charcoal. 

“Nezuko, come try this out,” Tanjiro said, setting the basket on the ground and guiding his sister inside. During this, Nezuko even showed off her ability to freely change her size, shrinking to a smaller form to fit in the basket. 

“…” 

Watching Nezuko shrink into a tiny version of herself to hop into the basket, Riku, also an oni, felt a pang of unfairness. Why didn’t he have the ability to switch forms like that? 

“Guess my oni talent really is just that bad,” he muttered, starting to accept the truth. Even Kibutsuji Muzan himself had basically confirmed it—how could that be wrong? 

But no worries. With the [Limit System], even if his talent was trash, a quick “System, add points!” would fix everything. 

“Riku-san, we’re heading out. I look forward to seeing you again,” Tanjiro said, securing Nezuko in the basket, covering it, and adding some straw for extra protection. He was ready to go. 

“Remember what I said—no matter what happens, never give up. There’s always a way,” Riku said with a smile, serving up a bowl of motivational chicken soup. 

Tanjiro drank it down without hesitation. “I’ll remember, Riku-san,” he said, his expression serious. He could feel the weight of those words from Riku’s own resilience. 

With another polite bow, Tanjiro turned and left the cave, stepping firmly onto his own path. 

“Phew…” Riku let out a sigh of relief after the Kamado siblings left. No surprises had popped up. Maybe Tanjiro wasn’t the “trouble magnet” type of protagonist after all? Or maybe they just hadn’t spent enough time together for something to go wrong. 

Protagonists need a breather sometimes, too, and Tanjiro had already had a rough enough day. 

“Back to training. A better tomorrow is hidden in every drop of sweat!” Riku said, refocusing. His brief encounter with the Kamado siblings hadn’t derailed his plans. Tanjiro was the protagonist of Kimetsu no Yaiba, but Riku was the protagonist of his own story. 

He trained through the evening—100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run as one set. He lost track of how many sets he’d done. Checking the [Personal Page] on his system panel, he saw no change in his stats. 

“Maybe the system doesn’t show decimals,” he reasoned. Even if the numbers didn’t budge, his body felt different. After a day of training, he was finally getting used to his oni-fied strength. That kind of progress wouldn’t show up in raw data, but it wasn’t wasted effort. 

Closing the [Personal Page], Riku checked the [World Page]. The traversal progress bar was at 90%, meaning it’d be fully charged by midnight. 

“Guess I’ll wait,” he decided. No need to go looking for trouble. With Kibutsuji Muzan possibly still lurking nearby, Riku wasn’t about to take risks without being fully prepared. 

If he ran into Muzan now, he’d be toast—no way out, up or down. 

Settling back, Riku kept training. Good thing he’d been a casual fitness buff back in the day, or he’d be bored out of his mind in this cave. Now, he didn’t even need a protein shake. Feeling hungry? He’d just take a bite of himself—talk about an addictive habit. 

Time flew as he sweated it out. Then, a pop-up appeared before his eyes. 

[Ding! Traversal function cooldown complete.] 

Riku opened the [World Page]. Sure enough, the traversal progress bar was at 100%. A new button had appeared, labeled with four bold characters: [Activate Traversal]. 

He didn’t click it. He hadn’t made up his mind yet. A new world meant new opportunities but also new dangers. With his current strength, he wasn’t ready to handle those risks. As long as his current situation was safe, he wasn’t in a rush to hit [Activate Traversal]. 

“Finally, I can go explore freely,” Riku said, stepping out of the cave. The night was deep, perfect for a little adventure. 

The wind and snow had stopped, making it easier to move than the previous night. He’d asked Tanjiro earlier about what animals roamed these woods in winter. Tanjiro had mentioned snow monkeys were common, along with deer and such. But most animals were active during the day, and at night, they were usually resting. 

“Being unable to handle sunlight really is a curse,” Riku grumbled. Not only was he limited to nighttime, but his night vision wasn’t even that great. Thankfully, his third eye on his forehead made up for it. That eye’s night vision was top-notch, and even in daylight, it saw farther and clearer than his regular eyes—higher resolution, no doubt. 

So far, that was the only perk he’d found for his third eye, but it was something. 

“At least I’ve got some special ability,” he muttered, making his way to the area Tanjiro had said was bustling with animals. 

As a local who’d grown up burning charcoal, Tanjiro knew the forest’s wildlife patterns well. That knowledge was a big part of their family’s livelihood. 

“Rustle, rustle…” 

Not long after entering the area, Riku heard a sound. Tanjiro’s info was spot-on. Or maybe it was just that the storm had cleared, and nocturnal animals were out hunting after a hungry day. 

“If this were another setting, I’d probably run into the classic newbie village monster right about now,” Riku said, his third eye scanning the source of the noise. By “newbie monster,” he meant a wolf. 

But this was Japan, in the Taisho era. Wolves had gone extinct here. He vaguely recalled a news story about Japan testing robotic wolves to scare off bears—talk about wild. 

So, the “rustle” wasn’t a wolf. It was just a sneaky little rat, not even a large animal. The rat had probably never seen an oni before and was just staring at Riku, frozen. 

Figuring he’d take a shot, Riku lunged forward, skewering the rat with a single finger. 

[Ding! Experience +1.] 

The sweet sound rang out, and Riku’s eyes lit up. He didn’t even care about the grossness. Now, he was hoping for more rats. One rat gave +1 experience—small, but zero risk and zero difficulty. Kill 100 rats, and he’d level up! 

If he could rack up enough rat kills, he could keep leveling, and leveling would bring a qualitative leap. 

This was it—his own “Absolute Ability Evolution Plan”! 

Chapter 7: You Don’t Want to Become a Pervert, Do You? 

[Ding! Title Unlocked: Hundred Rat Slayer.] 

[Hundred Rat Slayer: When equipped, intimidates rodent creatures.] 

[Ding! Experience bar full. Level increased to Lv2. Current experience: 0/200.] 

[Gained 1 attribute point.] 

After slaughtering a hundred rats, Riku finally leveled up as he’d hoped, even snagging a “Hundred Rat Slayer” title in the process. 

To get those hundred rats, he’d practically turned the area upside down, spending an entire night on the hunt. 

But looking at his rewards after leveling up, Riku fell silent. 

“…” 

“That’s it? That’s all? Isn’t something missing?” 

One attribute point? Fine, no issue there. But where were the skill point and the skill optimization point?! Did the system just eat them?! 

“Chill, is there some special way to get them? Or maybe you don’t get one every level?” 

Riku quickly accepted reality. The [Limit System] didn’t exactly come with a customer service hotline, so complaining was pointless. 

Besides, he was already exploiting a system bug. He didn’t have the guts to complain—what if they patched the bug because of him? 

“Keep at it. It’s just 200 more rats, right? No big deal.” 

Back in the cave, Riku rallied himself. Things were moving in a good direction, so he had no real reason to gripe. 

While hunting rats, Riku had also tried targeting smaller creatures, like a nest of ants. 

Sadly, his attempt to game the system failed. The [Limit System] didn’t count insects like ants for experience. 

“System, add the point.” 

Without much hesitation, Riku dumped the attribute point into Constitution, bringing it to 13+6 (Demonization). 

As a result, his regeneration-based “undying state” now lasted 38 hours, just 5 points shy of the 48-hour mark. 

Riku’s plan was simple: boost Constitution until his undying state could last a full 48 hours. No fancy reason—just pure survival instinct. 

He’d confirmed that his transmigration ability had a roughly two-day, 48-hour cooldown. 

If his undying state could last 48 hours, even if he landed in a new world and immediately faced a life-or-death crisis, he could hold out until he could transmigrate again. 

After that one time he got turned into a demon right after transmigrating, Riku was playing it extra cautious. Who knew what kind of mess he’d land in next? 

“Time to keep training.” 

Sure, yesterday’s workout didn’t show up in his stats, but Riku wasn’t giving up. His body felt the difference, and he trusted that training was paying off. 

The day passed quickly with exercise, punctuated by a short break and some food. 

As night fell, Riku returned to yesterday’s “hunting ground.” 

Leveling from Lv2 to Lv3 required 200 experience points—just 200 rats, in theory. 

But after his rat massacre yesterday, the local rodent population was basically extinct. This easy leveling method was no longer an option. 

So, Riku set his sights on another group he’d stumbled across yesterday, one Tanjiro Kamado had mentioned: monkeys. 

These monkeys weren’t nocturnal. They slept in the trees at night. Yesterday, Riku had accidentally woken one but didn’t make a move. 

As a guy from Modern era, Riku had a weird, hard-to-explain sentiment about monkeys. After all, he grew up playing Black Myth Wukong. 

But monkeys weren’t exactly the cuddly creatures people imagined. They could be downright nasty. 

In groups, monkeys were terrifying. They’d raid farms near human settlements, wreck crops, and steal food. 

Tanjiro knew about these monkeys because they’d once invaded the village, chasing each other, scaring villagers, and snatching food from their hands. 

It sounded like something out of a fantasy novel, like goblins or something, but this was one reason monkeys were hunted to near extinction. 

Of course, monkeys only raided human farms and villages because humans had overexpanded, taking over their habitats. This was just their counterattack. 

As creatures with strong territorial instincts, monkeys weren’t exactly thrilled about these “hairless monkeys” invading their turf. 

But that’s how the world worked: survival of the fittest. The strong called the shots, claiming most of the resources and maybe tossing the losers a “wildlife preserve” if they felt generous. 

To level up, to become strong enough to have a say, to avoid being someone’s prey, Riku didn’t hold back. If he couldn’t kill animals, was he supposed to start killing people? 

“Screech!!!” 

Riku’s approach woke the monkey troop. They snapped awake, shrieking warnings at the intruder. 

The air filled with their sharp, angry cries. This was a massive troop, nearly 100 strong, which was why Riku hadn’t acted yesterday. 

It wasn’t fear—these monkeys couldn’t kill him. In the dark, against natural creatures, he was basically invincible. 

It was just his first time facing such a “big scene,” and anyone would feel a bit frazzled. 

Picture it: in the dead of night, nearly a hundred monkeys staring you down from the trees, ready to attack at any moment. That’d put pressure on anyone. It’s just biology. 

Riku hadn’t fully adjusted to his new role. His mindset hadn’t completely shifted to that of an undying predator. 

“Huff~~~” 

Riku climbed a tree. He was already decent at climbing, and with his boosted Constitution, scaling wild trees was a breeze. 

His move, though, pissed off the troop. A monkey leaped at him, launching the first attack. 

“Thwack!” 

Riku freed one hand and swiped, his claws sending the monkey flying, slicing its throat in one clean motion. 

Killing 100 rats hadn’t done much for his combat skills, but it had at least gotten him used to the feeling of claws tearing through flesh. 

What’s that saying? Every action has meaning. And killing 100 rats wasn’t just about leveling up. 

[Ding! Experience +1.] 

But the feedback from killing one monkey sent Riku’s mood crashing. 

“…Why the hell is killing a monkey worth the same experience as killing a rat?! Is this even reasonable?!” 

This outcome was way beyond his expectations. He’d figured monkeys might not give much experience, but this little? No way. 

“Screech!!!” 

One monkey down, and the rest got even angrier. More leaped at Riku, attacking in a frenzy. 

Riku jumped down from the tree. Honestly, he wasn’t in the mood to keep going. The payoff was just too pathetic. 

One monkey for one experience point? It wasn’t worth the effort. The cost-benefit ratio was garbage. Unlike rats, monkeys were harder to kill, especially in their home turf—the dense forest. 

If a monkey gave 5 experience points, Riku would’ve wiped out the whole troop without blinking. 

Of course, that kind of thinking wasn’t great. If he’d slaughter a troop of monkeys for 5 points today, tomorrow he might be killing people for 10.  

Moral lines get crossed step by step. Gaining strength through killing was the fastest way to twist someone’s values. 

Riku had already noticed this. When he finished off those 100 rats yesterday, he’d felt a tiny spark of enjoyment. 

That was not normal. He was sure he hadn’t been some animal-torturing psycho before. 

So, Riku set a boundary for himself. Killing to get stronger? Fine, he needed that. But mindless slaughter? No way. He had to reject killing without reason. 

No way he was turning into some deranged, family-murdering maniac. 

“Thwack!” 

Riku swiped his claws, taking out a few aggressive monkeys that lunged at him, clean and efficient. 

In no time, over twenty monkeys lay dead by his claws. Fighting with claws, the two sides weren’t even in the same league. 

Monkeys were weaker than humans to begin with—not even in the same weight class. Bare-handed, they had no way to disable a human. 

After losing over twenty of their own, fear gripped the troop. Classic opportunists, they bullied the weak and feared the strong. The monkeys scattered, fleeing in all directions. 

“Man…” 

Riku shook the blood off his claws, glancing at the 23 experience points he’d earned. He was bummed and a little speechless. 

He didn’t bother chasing them. In this forest, monkeys had the advantage when it came to running, and he wasn’t exactly Tarzan. 

“Why is the experience the same?” 

If killing rats yesterday had only given 1 point, Riku would’ve thought that was normal. But monkeys giving just 1 point today? That was enough to make him suspicious. 

“Maybe it’s because these creatures are too weak for me?” 

Riku, a seasoned gamer, made a guess. In some games, experience points were adjusted based on the player’s strength. 

A Lv1 newbie might level up killing a chicken, but a Lv100 player killing the same chicken might not even get 1 point. 

“That makes sense.” 

To Riku, rats and monkeys were both too weak, unable to even scratch him. 

“Is 1 point the minimum experience you can get?” 

If so, he didn’t have to worry about turning into a murderous psycho. Ordinary people were probably worth 1 point too. 

He wasn’t thrilled about killing monkeys for 1 point. Killing people for 1 point? He’d have to be straight-up insane. 

Plus, based on his gaming experience, as his level rose, these weak creatures might stop giving any experience. 

“Swish!” 

As Riku cleaned the blood off his hands, a strange sound made him tense up. 

“Who’s there?!” 

He whipped around toward the noise and froze. 

Under the moonlight, a girl stood on a thin tree branch, quietly watching him. Her purple eyes seemed to glow faintly in the dark. 

She had black hair with gradient purple bangs, styled in a yahoi roll—a blend of Western braids and Japanese buns popular decades ago. A butterfly hairpiece, mint green with deep purple edges, adorned the back. She wore a black outfit resembling a school uniform, layered with a haori patterned with butterfly wings. 

“Why are you killing these monkeys?” 

The girl spoke, her gaze sweeping over the monkey corpses, her eyes brimming with curiosity. 

This was her first time seeing a demon hunt anything other than humans, and despite her disgust, she wanted to know what this demon was up to. 

“Uh… because they attacked the village down the mountain. I’m doing a public service?” 

Riku’s back was sweating as he answered. That “school uniform” gave him a bad feeling of déjà vu. 

Every time he got that feeling, it meant trouble. And in his memory, Tanjiro Kamado wore something like this later on. 

A teenage girl, armed, standing calmly in the middle of the night surrounded by monkey corpses and a monster like him? No way she was just a “student.” 

Riku knew she was likely a Demon Slayer, a human who hunted creatures like him, just like the one Tanjiro had run into. 

“Pfft~” 

The girl covered her mouth, stifling a laugh, like she’d heard something hilarious. 

“Are you joking?” 

She squinted with amusement, but her hand was already on the hilt of her blade. 

“Wait! Let me explain! I’m not the kind of demon you think! I haven’t eaten anyone. I just turned into a demon two days ago. I can survive without eating people—look!” 

Seeing her hand on the blade, Riku’s words spilled out like a machine gun. Bro, I’m one of the good guys! 

As he spoke, he performed his “arm-biting show” again, chomping a chunk out of his forearm and swallowing it. 

“…” 

The Demon Slayer girl froze. At just 16, she’d seen her fair share, having killed plenty of demons. But this? She’d never seen anything like it. 

“You’re… pretty interesting.” 

That was Shinobu Kocho’s assessment of this demon’s wild antics. 

Then, without hesitation, she drew her blade and leaped from the branch. Her haori flared behind her in the moonlight, like a butterfly dancing toward the light. 

Chapter 8: Activate Traversal 

Thwack! 

Caught off guard, Riku didn’t even have time to react before the Demon Slayer girl’s blade pierced his neck. 

Her speed was unreal—beyond human, beyond even what Riku, an oni, could keep up with. One second he was opening his mouth to speak, the next, her blade was through his neck. He didn’t even have a chance to hit “Activate Traversal.” 

But a pierced neck? That wasn’t enough to kill him. For an oni like Riku, it barely counted as a scratch. 

The girl’s weapon wasn’t so much a katana as it was something like a Western rapier—long, thin, with a small barb at the tip. It was clearly designed for piercing, not slashing, and her attack style matched it perfectly. 

Having just danced with death, Riku was shaken. But he couldn’t help but wonder: this Demon Slayer girl was so skilled, how could she not know how to kill an oni? 

“You can’t kill an oni like that,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself. 

The moment the words left his mouth, Riku froze. That… didn’t sound like a taunt, did it? 

The Demon Slayer girl’s expression faltered, clearly thrown off by his comment. 

“You’re really interesting,” she said, a smile blooming on her face. She stood in front of him, tilting her head slightly, engaging him in conversation like it was no big deal. 

She was tiny—Riku guessed she was barely 1.5 meters tall, maybe less. Her frame was so delicate it looked like a breeze could knock her over, which probably explained her insane speed. Standing before Riku, who, with his horns, towered over two meters after becoming an oni, she looked even smaller. 

It was a bizarre scene: a petite girl facing a hulking hellish oni, yet the one in mortal danger was the oni. 

“Uh, I wouldn’t say I’m teaching you how to kill oni,” Riku said, pulling up his [Limit System] and switching to the [World Page]. He was ready to hit the traversal button and bolt at any moment. “I’ve never killed an oni myself. Honestly, I’ve only ever met two.” 

He realized now that this girl wasn’t clueless about killing oni—she was just toying with him. 

“Oh? Which two?” she asked, her smile unwavering. As Riku suspected, she wasn’t in a rush to finish him off. 

“One’s the Oni King who turned me into this. The other’s a little girl who sticks by her brother and doesn’t eat people,” Riku said slowly, watching her closely. Her smile was visibly fake, and the disgust for oni in her purple eyes was impossible to hide. 

“Really? Could you tell me what the Oni King looks like?” she asked, her expression unchanged, still smiling brightly. 

Riku’s heart sank. She clearly wasn’t buying it. His words didn’t spark any interest—instead, she seemed to think he was lying. Non-human-eating oni? Two of them? It sounded absurd, especially since the very idea of an oni that didn’t eat humans was hard to believe. 

“The Oni King… he’s got sickly pale skin, blood-red eyes, and he’s a handsome young guy, medium height, dressed in Western clothes,” Riku said, describing Kibutsuji Muzan. 

But he could tell she didn’t believe a word. 

“Wow, that’s great,” she said, sheathing her blade and clapping her hands as if praising him. Her expression was so obviously fake, her tone devoid of emotion. 

Riku was confused. What was wrong with what he’d said? 

“You’re the first oni I’ve met who’s given me info about the Oni King,” she said. 

Riku’s face fell. Oh no. Now he got it. 

Normal oni probably couldn’t spill details about Kibutsuji Muzan without his control stopping them. Demon Slayers would’ve known about him otherwise. But Riku wasn’t a normal oni—he’d broken free of Muzan’s control, so he could talk. It made perfect sense. 

The problem was, this girl wouldn’t see it that way. She wouldn’t think he was special—she’d just assume he was lying to her face. 

It was a classic case of mismatched information. She was missing the key piece: that he’d escaped Muzan’s control. 

“So, how’d you do it?” she asked, her smile growing even faker. She was convinced he was lying. Of course, she’d never expected an oni to tell the truth. In her experience, oni would say anything to survive. They were monsters who’d even eat their own families, finding them tastier and more “nutritious.” 

“Wait, I think there’s a misunderstanding here…” Riku said, tensing up. Tanjiro had met a Demon Slayer who wanted to kill Nezuko on sight but managed to turn them into an ally. So why couldn’t Riku, who was actually having a conversation with this one, get through to her? 

He didn’t realize just how deep this girl’s hatred for oni ran. Even Nezuko had barely been accepted by her. Tamayo and Yushiro, who’d also escaped Muzan’s control and helped the Demon Slayers, were still despised by her. If Tanjiro and Nezuko had met this girl instead of Tomioka Giyu, Nezuko would probably be dead already. 

“I was hoping we could get along, but you lied to me. Such a shame,” she said, clapping her hands again. Her smile didn’t waver, but her eyes grew colder. “Liars get punished, you know.” 

“Damn it!” Riku cursed, and without hesitation, he hit “Activate Traversal.” 

This Demon Slayer had no intention of talking things out from the start. And honestly, that made sense. Humans and oni were natural enemies—expecting peaceful chats was naive. How did Tanjiro pull it off? Was his protagonist halo that strong? 

Whoosh! 

Kochou Shinobu drew her blade in a flash, passing through where Riku had just been. 

“Huh? What happened?” she muttered, feeling her blade hit nothing but air. She turned to look—Riku was gone, vanished into thin air. 

“Blood Demon Art?” Shinobu said, instantly on guard. But the oni’s presence was completely gone. He’d escaped. 

“Well, I messed that up,” she said, her smile finally fading, replaced by a hint of frustration. This was a first for her. 

“Should’ve used more poison on that first strike,” she mused. 

Of course, she knew how to kill oni. Piercing was her method—her custom blade injected wisteria poison into an oni’s body. Wisteria was a unique plant, its sap deadly to oni but harmless to humans. 

“Let’s check around. He might not have gone far,” Shinobu said, refusing to give up. She began searching the area for traces of Riku. 

On her first strike, she’d only used a tiny amount of unrefined poison, not enough to kill or even harm an oni much. She’d found Riku amusing—among all the oni she’d faced, his way of “struggling to survive” was the most creative. The guy was literally eating himself. 

“Now that I think about it, creative struggling does work. He actually got away,” Shinobu said, weaving through the forest until dawn. Still, she found no trace of him. 

“Fine, I’ll remember you,” she said, her expression darkening with annoyance. She mentally kicked herself. Letting an oni escape could mean countless human lives lost, and she vowed to be more careful next time. 

Chapter 9: Hello, Night City 

[Traversal Complete] 

[Current World: Cyberpunk 2077] 

Riku’s vision blurred, and the beautiful yet deadly Demon Slayer girl vanished. In her place was blinding neon light pollution, so intense he almost thought it was daytime. 

Blinking, Riku took a step back. Right in front of him was a glowing neon billboard featuring a scantily clad woman. 

“…” 

He quickly looked away, scanning his surroundings cautiously. He was in a narrow alley, and thankfully, no one else was around. 

“Phew~” 

The safe environment let Riku breathe a sigh of relief. He’d been reckless back there, not activating traversal right away. That brush with death wasn’t fun, and trying to negotiate with the Demon Slayer Corps as an oni was, unsurprisingly, a terrible idea. 

“But, silver lining—I’ve landed in a world I actually know.” 

Riku grinned. Even in the worst situations, he could find a bright side. 

Cyberpunk 2077. He’d played the game to completion, knew the story inside out. Compared to stumbling blindly through Kimetsu no Yaiba, this was a massive upgrade. 

Best of all? No Demon Slayers hunting oni here. This place was way safer! 

It might sound absurd, but this messed-up cyberpunk world was, for Riku, a lot less dangerous than the world of Kimetsu no Yaiba. 

“Now, what’s the timeline here?” he wondered. 

Riku stuck to the Traverser’s Essential Guide: in a new world, with a system already in hand, the first steps were to confirm time and place. 

The place was clear. The billboard had “Night City” written on it—the main stage of the story. Looking out, he spotted a towering building in the distance: Arasaka Tower, the tallest structure in Night City, visible from anywhere. 

No hesitation needed. Riku stepped out of the alley. In this city, he could afford to relax a bit. Looking like he did—with his oni horns and all—wasn’t even that shocking here. He could just pass it off as overdoing the hormone mods. 

Night City had a gang called the Animals, a group of oddballs in a world obsessed with cybernetic enhancements. While everyone else chased “flesh is weak, metal is king,” the Animals went the opposite way, aiming to perfect the human body. They embraced the wild, primal side of humanity, trying to blur the line between man and beast, creating a new kind of subspecies. 

Their look was anything but normal—spotted or striped skin, beast-like jaws, even self-growing muscle implants. Riku’s appearance? He could stand in the middle of Night City, and the Animals’ leader, Sasquatch, would probably give him a thumbs-up without a second thought. 

Boldly stepping out of the alley, Riku entered another one, then stopped. A human figure appeared ahead—a dirty, disheveled homeless man slumped against the wall, head down, possibly asleep. 

Riku frowned, a bit annoyed. Even this filthy guy smelled… appetizing. Like a mix of stench and savory meat. At that moment, Riku truly understood the phrase “stinks but smells good.” It was foul, sure, but that meaty aroma was real. 

He held his breath, planning to slip past the “ugly yet tasty” guy without trouble. 

“Got any food?” the homeless man suddenly rasped, lifting his head. His cybernetic eyes glowed red as he stared at Riku. 

“Sorry, don’t have any,” Riku replied, caught off guard but honest. He didn’t need food—his own body was his meal. 

“Heh, he says sorry,” the man muttered, lowering his head again, ignoring Riku. 

Riku turned to leave, catching the man’s faint mumbling. 

“…” 

He knew life at the bottom of this world was rough. People like this homeless guy—displaced, with nothing left—were everywhere. Cyberpunk, after all: high tech, low life. A dystopian mess where the elite enjoyed the perks of technology, and regular folks got crushed by the grind. 

Bang! 

A gunshot echoed through the dim alley. 

Riku’s face froze. Behind him, the homeless man stood up. 

“Sorry? What’s that gonna do? Can I eat it?!” the man spat, cursing as he rose, gripping a pistol. That shot had come from him. 

A penniless, homeless drifter carrying a gun? In Night City, that was par for the course. 

The man approached Riku, confused. Why was this big guy still standing? The gun’s caliber was small, but he was certain he’d hit Riku square in the head. Brain matter had splattered. 

“Sigh…” Riku let out a long breath. He’d almost forgotten—this wasn’t some normal city. This was freaking Night City. 

“What the hell?! I hit you!” the man shouted, spooked by Riku’s sigh, half-convinced he was hearing things. 

That thought didn’t last. The hulking figure with a bullet hole in his head turned around. 

In the man’s terrified gaze, Riku shook his head sharply, flinging out the bullet lodged in his skull. The flesh inside had already healed. 

“Look, wouldn’t it have been easier to just let me pass? Why’d you have to go looking for trouble?” Riku asked, not really expecting an answer. 

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

“Die, you monster!” the man screamed, unloading his clip in a frantic burst. 

His magazine didn’t have much left, though. This guy was clearly running on fumes. 

Panting after emptying his gun, the man’s eyes lit up with surprise—the monster wasn’t moving anymore. 

Thwack! 

Riku’s claw shot out, piercing straight through the man’s throat. 

The man reached up, trying to save himself, but blood gushed down Riku’s claw. The glow in his cybernetic eyes faded. 

“Brains blown out didn’t kill me. You think a few more shots would?” Riku said, pulling out his claw and shaking off the blood before wiping it on the man’s clothes. 

His first time killing a human, and Riku felt… nothing. No nausea, no panic, no drama. Maybe because this guy was such a scumbag? No grudge, no reason, just a random sneak attack from behind? 

This wasn’t a Demon Slayer who knew he was an oni. The guy just wanted to kill him, probably to sell his body for cash. 

Killing him felt like squashing an ant. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from killing rats or monkeys before. 

“Well, there’s one difference,” Riku muttered, staring at the system prompt: [Ding! Experience +5.] 

Five points? That was four more than he’d expected. Where’d the extra come from? 

Chapter 10: The Wild Scavenger 

“Is it because of the gun? Does wielding a gun boost combat power by +5 or something?” 

Riku picked up the homeless guy’s pistol. It was a compact little thing, easy to hide on the body. As for the bullet caliber, well, Riku had already felt its impact firsthand. 

“Judging by the model, it’s kinda like Lexington from Militech. Tsk, this gun… if your aim’s not on point, you’re better off not using it.” 

Riku muttered, sharing his thoughts post-gunshot. In plain terms, the damage was pitiful—basically a squirt gun. Unless you hit a vital spot, it wasn’t doing much. 

“But even a low-key weapon like this bumps a homeless guy’s experience points up to 5? How the hell does this system decide experience values?” 

Riku couldn’t wrap his head around it, but he wasn’t in a rush. He’d have plenty of time to figure it out later. 

As he squeezed the bullet out of his body, he tucked the pistol into his clothes and glanced at the homeless guy’s corpse. 

If he could, Riku would’ve loved to change into something else. But even in his bloodstained, tattered rags, he wasn’t about to swap them for this guy’s clothes. 

No way. Even with dried blood all over his outfit, it still smelled better than the homeless guy’s gear. 

“Hm? Someone else coming?” 

Riku was about to leave when the scent of humans drifted into his nose again. 

Two figures shuffled into the alley, both looking rough around the edges, each carrying a black bag. One held a submachine gun, while the other had an assortment of surgical knives strapped to his body. 

Riku spotted them, and they definitely saw him—and the homeless guy’s corpse on the ground. 

“Ha, looks like we hit the jackpot today.” 

The two didn’t seem fazed by stumbling onto a murder scene. One of them even let out an excited whistle. 

“Hey, buddy, if you don’t want this guy, we’ll take him off your hands.” 

One of the two approached Riku, the one with the submachine gun, wearing a narrow-brimmed hat. He looked Eastern European. 

“What do you want with him?” 

Riku took a step back, letting the corpse lie between them, acting like he wanted to avoid trouble. 

“Ha, what do you think? Can’t you tell what we do for a living?” 

The other guy stepped closer, spinning a sharp surgical knife between his fingers with expert precision. He was dressed like a butcher. 

“Scavs,” Riku said. 

Of course he knew. In the dark alleys of Night City, you wouldn’t run into ghosts or urban legends, but you’d definitely cross paths with these organ-harvesting lowlifes. 

Calling them “organ harvesters” was honestly too narrow. These scumbags did way more than just carve out kidneys. 

“You got it! City scavengers, cleaning up cyberware, organs, you name it. Letting a fresh corpse like this rot here? That’s a damn waste. This guy’s a goldmine.” 

The scav grinned, revealing he only had one cybernetic eye—a weird one with a telescoping function that could extend outward. 

As he talked to Riku, that cyber-eye kept popping out and retracting, stealing the show. 

It reminded Riku of a phone he’d once owned with a pop-up front camera—popping out when needed, retracting when not.  

But the lifespan of those things was always an issue. Constantly extending and retracting? Bound to break eventually. 

“Click!” 

Sure enough, the scav’s cyber-eye gave out with a weird noise, getting stuck in the extended position. 

“…” 

Silence fell over Night City’s alley. The atmosphere turned awkward as hell. 

Riku pressed his lips together. He hadn’t been trained for this, but he knew when to laugh and when to keep a straight face. 

“Damn it, can your shitty eye stop screwing up when we’re working?” 

The submachine gun scav’s mouth twitched, clearly pissed at his partner. 

“Relax, it’s a small glitch. You don’t get how good this eye is. It’s not like that cheap crap you guys use.” 

The knife-wielding scav didn’t seem fazed by the malfunction. Ignoring it, he crouched to start carving up the homeless guy’s corpse. 

“Hold up.” 

Riku frowned, stepping in to stop the two scavs, who’d been talking like he wasn’t even there. 

“When did I say I was handing this corpse over to you?” 

Sure, the homeless guy wasn’t exactly a saint, but these scavs? They were the scum of the earth. 

Among the types of people Riku despised most, human traffickers and organ dealers were always near the top. 

And for these scavs, that was just another day at the office. It was their whole job description. 

“The hell? Since when did Animals start scavenging corpses? If you’re not giving him to us, what’s the point? You gonna eat him or something?” 

Riku’s words drew the submachine gun scav’s attention. Not that his gun barrel had ever left Riku’s direction. 

“…” 

What could he say? The scav wasn’t exactly wrong. For Riku, the corpse could technically be food. 

“Forget talking to him. I gotta harvest these organs quick.” 

The knife-wielding scav squinted, sizing Riku up. This Animal gang guy looked pretty jacked—his organs were probably top-notch. 

But too bad. The organs of muscle freaks like this, pumped full of hormones, testosterone, and maybe even spliced with random animal genes, weren’t worth much on the market. 

That’s why they hadn’t jumped Riku. The risk wasn’t worth the reward. 

Animals usually didn’t have much cyberware, their organs had no market, and their combat skills were no joke. Why bother messing with them? 

Plus, this Animal guy looked like bad news. He was modded to the point of barely looking human. 

Scavs worked in small crews, picking their fights carefully, preying on careless law-abiding citizens. 

Their MO was simple: ambush, kidnap, kill, harvest, and sell. If they could, they’d throw in a “braindance recording” for extra cash. It was a streamlined operation. 

Sometimes they’d take small-time gigs no one else wanted—petty robberies, brawls, or knocking someone out cold. 

But going head-to-head with corpos, NCPD, or big gangs? They didn’t have the skills or the guts for that. 

“Get the hell outta here. I’m in a good mood today and don’t feel like killing. Don’t make me shoot.” 

The submachine gun scav barked at Riku, firing two warning shots near his feet for emphasis. 

He was loud and aggressive, but it was all bluster. Deep down, he was scared. The textbook definition of all bark, no bite. 

(End of Chapter)