In a luxurious room shrouded in an oppressive, absolute darkness, a voice, cold and sharp as obsidian, cut through the silence.
"I seem to recall giving a clear and simple order. No demon, including the Upper Ranks, was to act without my express permission. Are the two of you choosing to ignore me?"
A crushing, invisible pressure slammed down on the room.
Two figures, previously standing in the shadows, buckled and were forced to their knees with a sickening crunch of bone.
One of them was Maito who's quivered under the strain.
Bloodshot veins bulged across his golden-pupiled eyes, and the fangs in his clenched jaw creaked under the immense force.
He looked less like a fearsome predator and more like a tortured animal, every fiber of his being straining against the invisible weight.
The soft, deliberate sound of footsteps echoed on the marble floor.
Maito, unable to lift his head, could only watch as a pair of immaculate, high-end leather boots approached.
The tip of one boot came to a stop just inches from his face.
"What is that look in your eyes?" the cold voice mused.
"Hate? If it weren't for the fact that you still possess some minor abilities, I would have fused your worthless flesh and blood with what was left of Shokyu long ago."
Crash!
The leather boot lifted and then stomped down with ferocious, casual force.
Half of Maito's head exploded in a shower of blood and gore.
The damage, of course, was nothing.
The flesh and blood on his shattered skull writhed and squirmed, reforming in the blink of an eye.
This time, however, the defiance in his eyes was gone, replaced by a blank, expressionless subservience.
He silently lowered his restored head.
"I trust you now truly understand. You may leave. And remember… find the traitor, Tamayo."
Maito and Lee who's kneeling beside him like a statue bowed in unison, their voices mechanical and hollow.
"As you command… Lord Muzan."
They rose to their feet stiffly, like puppets on strings.
Without a single unnecessary movement or glance at each other, they backed away silently and vanished from the suffocating room.
The heavy, carved wooden door swung shut, sealing the pressure within.
The progenitor of demons, Muzan Kibutsuji, clad in a high-end, patterned suit, turned and walked to the study's large window.
Outside, the dazzling nightscape of a bustling metropolis glittered, a carpet of a thousand lights.
But to him, this glorious monument of human civilization was nothing more than a dull, insignificant anthill, and its lights reflected as such in his scarlet, slitted pupils.
"Heh… humans," he snorted with a disgust that was absolute.
At that moment, the shadows in the corner of the room rippled like water.
A new figure emerged, dressed in a neat suit and gold-rimmed glasses.
He had gray skin and the unassuming appearance of a common demon.
No one would ever guess that this creature was one of the twelve Kizuki, the terrifyingly powerful Upper Rank Six, Kamaro.
With a perfect, humble smile plastered on his face, he bowed a full ninety degrees to Muzan.
"Lord Muzan," Kamaro voice was as smooth and pleasant as a well-trained butler's.
"According to your wishes, the plan proceeds flawlessly. The seeds we so carefully selected have taken deep root amongst the human elite. Panic, greed, their pathetic desire for power… these wonderful nutrients are nourishing our garden. Currently, over a third of their key government and military positions are held by our… friends. With but a single command from you, humanity's proud weapons of steel and gunpowder can be turned against the last remnants of the Demon Slayer Corps. You will control this entire nation."
His tone was laced with pride and temptation.
He lifted his head slightly, his eyes flashing with shrewd calculation from behind his glasses, waiting for his master's praise… or perhaps, his approval to proceed.
He was met with a dead, chilling silence.
Muzan slowly turned, his crimson pupils falling on Kamaro like a pair of searchlights.
There was no praise in his gaze, only a pure, unadulterated disgust, as if he were looking at a piece of filth.
The perfect smile on Kamaro face froze.
The next second, Muzan was in front of him.
He moved so fast it was as if he'd teleported.
Kamaro had no time to react before a pale, slender hand, imbued with a destructive power that could unravel a demon's very being, clamped around his neck.
"Ugh…!"
The force of the grip sent his glasses flying.
He was lifted off his feet, the feeling of his neck bones shattering and the inability to breathe hitting him all at once.
"Kamaro," Muzan's voice was an icy whisper, filled with a contempt that cut deeper than any blade.
"You seem… far too obsessed with the games these lowly ants play."
Kamaro's eyes were wide with terror.
His crushed throat could only produce a hoarse, gurgling sound as he tried in vain to defend himself.
"Control humanity?" Muzan's lips curled into a cruel, mocking sneer.
"These insects, with their fragile toys of steel and gunpowder, they have limited lifespans and their thoughts as filthy as maggots… are they worthy of my control?"
Bang!
He slammed Kamaro's body onto the floor like a broken sack of trash.
The impact cracked the expensive marble, but Kamaro, despite his grievous injuries, scrambled to his knees in trembling fear.
Muzan looked down at him, his expression one of utter condescension.
"Remember your identity, Kamaro. The only value in your existence is to use the fear and stupidity of these ants to clear obstacles for me. Create chaos. Find what I want. That is all."
He slowly walked forward, the cold tip of his shoe lifting Kamaro chin, forcing the demon to look into his scarlet eyes.
"Do not ever suggest that I should condescend to rule over these insects. They are not worthy. Do you understand?"
Kamaro could only tremble and squeeze out a broken whisper.
"I understand… Lord Muzan… I… overstepped… I will remember…"
Muzan coldly withdrew his foot as if he had touched something unclean.
He turned back to the window, his voice returning to its superior indifference.
"Continue your mission. Use your… human methods. Find Tamayo, and find the girl who conquered the sun. How you use the ants is your own affair, so long as the result satisfies me. Now, leave."
"Yes… yes… I will take my leave…" Kamaro struggled to his feet and crawled back toward the shadows, his posture the very definition of humility.
But just as his figure was about to merge completely with the darkness, the look of terror on his lowered face vanished, replaced by a cold, deep, and utterly calculating sneer.