[Notice… Your follower "Gyōmei Himejima" has grown significantly stronger… grateful to you, Faith Power +10]
[Notice… Your follower "Rengoku Kyojuro" has grown significantly stronger… grateful to you, Faith Power +8]
[Notice… Your follower "Tomioka Giyu" has grown significantly stronger… grateful to you, Faith Power +11]
[Notice… Your follower "Iguro Obanai… Uzui Tengen… Kanroji Mitsuri… Tokito Muichiro… Shinazugawa Sanemi… Ubuyashiki Kagaya..."]
…as well as several pending followers—Ubuyashiki's children, Kyojuro's younger brother, Kanao from the Butterfly Estate—waiting to be promoted…
Roy stepped into the Demon Slayer world and looked up. The sun was perfect. Spring was giving way to early summer; birds sang, flowers bloomed. He smiled.
Returning here felt completely different now—some nostalgia, some memories, but more than anything… ease and clarity.
At one moment, he raised a hand to the sky.
"Gah-oh~" A Kasugai crow swooped down, dropped a black feather, and let a letter fall onto the back of his hand.
It was from Ubuyashiki.
"After a long parting, I pray Rōichirō-sama remains well.
In gratitude for your guidance and teaching, I, Kagaya, with my wife, daughters, and son, once again pay our respects.
I dare report: Upper Two is dead. The world is bright; demons are nearly eradicated. Only Upper One and the Demon King, Kibutsuji Muzan, remain at large.
Thus, I have discussed matters with the Hashira and will convene a Hashira meeting this month to plan the final hunt. If Rōichirō-sama has time, we humbly beg you to grace us with your presence. I and the Hashira will welcome you with the utmost sincerity and joy.
I cannot say all I wish in this hurried letter. Ubuyashiki Kagaya, with my wife, children, and the Hashira, respectfully submit."
"Pff—" A small flame rose from Roy's fingertip and burned the letter to ash. He smiled lightly at the crow.
"Go back and tell your master: I understand."
"I won't attend the meeting."
"When I've killed the Demon King, we'll meet again."
Roy released the crow. It shot skyward.
He looked up and watched it shrink into the clouds, then stroked his sword as he walked, thoughts spreading like a roc's wings across the heavens.
"So it's April already…"
At April, rain falls and travelers lose their souls.
But Demon Slayer's April had no rain—only clear skies and blazing sun, leaving demons no path upward, no path downward—only one road:
Soul-cutting.
Roy narrowed his eyes. His body immediately "lightened," dissolving into radiance. In a flash, then another flash, he vanished into the distance.
He hunted for demons along the way, trying to use their blood to trigger Targeted Tracking and locate the Infinity Castle.
But—
By the time he was nearly in Kyoto, it was exactly as Kagaya said: the newly empowered Demon Slayer Corps had carried out a ruthless purge. Demons were almost extinct.
He didn't run into a single one.
Was it his luck… or had the Corps simply been that thorough?
Either way, for ordinary people who wanted to live in peace, it was good news.
"Step… step…" Roy found a quiet alley and solidified into human form. Leaving the alley, he entered a bustling main street—crowds, shouting vendors, prosperity everywhere.
His flame-colored hair swayed faintly in the breeze as he walked, until he spotted a stall with a hanging curtain and a few low tables and stools—selling udon.
For a moment, he felt strangely dazed.
He recognized the owner at a glance.
The udon seller Tanjiro met in Kyoto in the original story—the one Tanjiro ended up eating two big bowls at, furious after running into Muzan.
"Want some noodles, kid?" The curtain fluttered, revealing a smiling young udon seller. "Just opened. Fresh broth—smells amazing."
Roy grinned. "If you're selling it that confidently, I'd better try it."
"Sure thing—sit, sit."
Roy sat at a low table. "Boss. Ten bowls."
"T—ten? How many?!" The owner's head shot out.
Roy held up ten fingers again. "Ten."
He slapped down silver coins. "Only more. Not less."
The owner stared for two seconds—then his eyes went wide at the money. He flicked his towel onto his shoulder and beamed.
"You got it~!"
He started working at full speed.
Roy sat quietly and watched him boil noodles, blanch vegetables, add char siu, half a soft-boiled egg, then splash a little soy sauce—smooth and practiced, all in one flow.
"Here you go—noodles up~!"
Roy took his chopsticks and tasted a bite. A little light, but the flavor was honest, and the seasoning was balanced. He praised without hesitation:
"Boss, your tonkotsu stock is done right."
The owner blinked—surprised Roy was a real eater. He brought another bowl, then casually dragged a stool over and sat across from Roy, chuckling.
"Low heat, slow simmer—four hours for that pot. Back in the day, I wouldn't have dared."
"Oh?" Roy slurped noodles. "Why not?"
"Because it's safe now." The owner wiped sweat with his towel and said bluntly, "Lately Kyoto's been way calmer. Used to be disappearances all the time—scary stuff. I didn't dare stay open too late. But recently… nobody's gone missing, so I've gotten bolder."
It was dusk after a full day on the road. The sun fell, the moon rose. Moonlight softened the city's brilliance into something almost dreamlike.
Roy ate and listened to the owner ramble, and a thought surfaced without warning:
Every peaceful, thriving world has people paying for it in silence.
Then, in the owner's stunned stare, Roy calmly demolished eleven bowls.
Only then did he rise, hand on his sword, and leave.
"Hey, kid—your money's too much!" The owner weighed the coins in his hand and hurriedly called after him.
Roy didn't stop. He just waved, back turned to the stall.
"Not too much. One share for you."
"One share for… peace."
Peace that the Demon Slayer Corps fought for in the shadows.
And yes—peace that now also included Roy.
The evening breeze cooled early-summer heat. The udon seller stared at the empty table—eleven empty bowls holding moonlight, holding prosperity.
After a long pause, he scratched his head.
"What a weird kid…"
He turned back to his stall to wash dishes—while Roy disappeared into the crowd and slipped into a darker alley.
Kyoto: arrived.
Udon seller: met.
Roy stopped at the end of the alley. A brick wall sealed the path ahead. He smiled gently.
"Yushirō—since you noticed me a while ago, why not come out and meet me?"
Night deepened. Away from the street, everything went silent.
Roy stood under moonlight, hand on his sword, smiling as he waited.
On the other side of the wall, a certain young man with teal bangs and that sharp, resentful air stood rigid, hands twisting together, eyes full of wariness—silent, waiting.
Roy tilted his head. "Did I misread?"
He turned to leave.
Only then did Yushirō loosen slightly—exhaling in relief.
But the instant he tried to move, his whole body locked up.
A hand had settled on his shoulder.
"Obscuring Eyes really is a good Blood Demon Art," Roy said, stepping out of moonlight behind him, his chin almost resting on Yushirō's shoulder. "But sometimes…"
"…what you see isn't necessarily real."
"Wouldn't you agree?"
"Kamado Rōichirō!" Yushirō's limbs went cold. He turned his neck stiffly. "H-how did you get in?!"
"It's not that I got in." Roy's voice turned amused. "It's that you trusted your eyes too much."
Blood-red crept into Roy's pupils. Three pitch-black tomoe climbed into place.
The moment Yushirō met that gaze, it felt like being sucked inward. His Obscuring Eyes shattered too—split open by a blade draw so sharp it turned his talisman into a strip of paper fluttering at the tip of Roy's sword.
Obscuring Eyes: a Blood Demon Art tied to line-of-sight limits, masking vision, confusing perception, forcing people to see what they shouldn't.
Key components: talismans and manufactured visual illusions—similar to genjutsu in nature.
In the original story, that Blood Demon Art was exactly what let Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and the Hashira invade the Infinity Castle under Kiriya's command and kill Dōma, Kokushibō, and ultimately Muzan.
But when it came to "illusions," there was a mountain no one could ignore:
The Sharingan.
Forget bug-level techniques like Infinite Tsukuyomi, Kotoamatsukami, or Izanagi—ordinary Sharingan genjutsu alone was already beyond what a specialist like Yūhi Kurenai could comfortably handle.
Let alone Yushirō.
Yushirō fell silent. Roy was right: he'd trusted his own eyes too much. In the past, nobody had ever broken his barrier this easily.
"So what do you want?" After a moment, Yushirō forced himself to calm down.
Tamayo-sama was inside the house behind him. He had to hold Roy here—buy Tamayo time to escape.
But obsessive love blinds.
Before Roy could answer, the villa door creaked open.
A woman in a deep-purple kimono stepped out—gentle features, warm gaze. The instant she appeared, she bowed deeply to Roy.
"Rōichirō-sama, I apologize for offending you. Please calm your anger. Come inside—let us speak."
"Tamayo-sama!" Yushirō jolted. Fangs showed—he half-shifted into a demon, and in sheer desperation he ripped his shoulder and arm free, blood pouring, roaring:
"I'll hold him! You run!"
He lunged, swinging his remaining fist at Roy.
Roy dodged, genuinely startled by that kind of decisiveness.
The severed arm hit the ground with a wet slap.
Yushirō planted himself in front of Tamayo, ferocious, trembling, glaring at Roy.
Roy stared at them. Respect, helplessness, and something complicated crossed his face.
Without a word, he beckoned—and tossed Yushirō's severed arm back to him.
"You know who I am," Roy said quietly. "You know my blade never lacks for demons."
Then he sheathed Eclipse, the talisman at the tip bursting into scraps on the wind, and looked at them calmly.
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be lying down right now—not standing."
Yushirō glared. "Who knows what you—"
"Yushirō." Tamayo's gentle voice cut him off. She stepped around him and bowed again.
"Rōichirō-sama, forgive him. He means no harm—he's only protecting me."
"I can see that." Roy's smile returned. "Love makes people stupid. Understandable."
Yushirō's face turned bright red. He wanted to argue, but something about it made him… oddly pleased. He just stiffened and glared harder, flustered and stubborn.
Tamayo exhaled—relieved. Rashness wasn't the problem. Rashness toward the wrong person was.
She opened the doorway, palm extended.
"Rōichirō-sama. Please."
Roy became moonlight—flash, flash, flash—and in an instant he was seated inside, as if he'd teleported past them entirely.
Tamayo and Yushirō exchanged a look.
Shock—pure shock.
If Roy had killing intent, neither of them believed they could escape.
What kind of close-range movement was that?
Did he think he was… light?
Yushirō's heart hammered.
"Thump. Thump. Thump."
Fear and excitement tangled together—along with a deep, irrational guilt.
Tamayo soothed him with a hand on his back. "Go inside. Reattach your arm."
She stepped in first, then served Roy hot tea with meticulous courtesy.
"Rōichirō-sama… please drink. And please… instruct us."
Tamayo couldn't imagine any reason Roy would come personally if it wasn't to kill—or to demand something.
"Tamayo-sama, you're too polite." Roy took a sip, then cut straight to it.
"I'm here for only two things."
He raised two fingers, smiling at both of them.
"What you can't do—I'll do."
"Who you can't kill—I'll kill."
"On one condition."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes bright.
"Lend me a sample of Muzan's blood—your blood. Just a little."
Demons were nearly extinct.
Good thing there were still two good demons left.
And both carried exactly what Roy needed.
His panel flickered open in his mind.
Targeted Tracking sat quietly in the skill list—ready to move.
~~~
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