"Whew... that was amazing!"
Ryuji admired the still-quivering peaks before him, giving Mai an appreciative thumbs-up. But Mai was in no state to respond—her mind was a buzzing mess, utterly incapable of forming coherent thoughts.
Now that his desires had been temporarily sated, Ryuji entered that brief, enlightened state known as "Post-Nut Clarity." And with it came a flicker of guilt as he took in the mess he'd made of Mai's face covered with his cum.
Even his conscience dared to peek out and it immediately scolded him.
Damn... I haven't even taken her on a proper date, and I've already used her backdoor and her legendary cleavage...
If not for his lingering restraint or perhaps just fastidiousness—he refused to let her lips touch his dick before their first kiss, he wouldn't have spared her mouth either.
Not that oral without cooperation was enjoyable anyway. Without tongue play, the only option was thrusting deep into the throat—a surefire way to trigger someone's gag reflex.
Definitely not a good experience.
He had originally just planned to tease Mai's lips for some extra psychological stimulation—he never intended to test whether his dick could withstand a collision with her teeth!
Sure, with his dragonfire and Life Return abilities, he probably could reattach it if things went south… but the psychological trauma would be irreversible!
And let's be real—Life Return wasn't some miracle cure. If it were, the One Piece world wouldn't be full of amputees and people with grotesque body modifications!
And let's be real: Life Return wasn't omnipotent. If it were, the One Piece world wouldn't have so many amputees and grotesquely deformed people.
Even with his dragonfire's life-force manipulation and Life Return's nerve/vessel control, reattachment was a gamble. One misaligned blood vessel, one misfired nerve connection—game over.
And even if successful? The mental scars would linger.
"Sorry, sorry! Got a little carried away there. And, uh… made a mess of your face."
He quickly grabbed tissues from his bag, wiping the sticky evidence off Mai's skin. Only when the last traces vanished from her neck and cheeks did she finally snap out of her daze.
"YOU—"
She snatched the tissues from his hands, furiously scrubbing the remnants off her chest—before suddenly launching a vicious kick straight at his groin!
Ryuji dodged on instinct, but her sneak attack was too fast. Even with his reflexes, her foot connected with his inner thigh, sending him crashing to the floor.
"—COMPLETE BASTARD!!"
But in doing so, she revealed something far more compromising.
The force of her kick had ripped her pants wide open, exposing the plain white cotton panties beneath—now thoroughly soaked and clinging obscenely to her skin. The damp fabric left nothing to the imagination, even imprinting a telltale wet spot on the tatami beneath her.
Ryuji's dick, which had barely begun to soften, immediately sprang back to full attention.
By the time Mai scrambled up—one arm clutching her torn top, the other yanking at her ruined pants—she was met with the sight of his renewed enthusiasm.
For a moment, Mai didn't know whether she should be angry or helpless.
"You—you utter pervert!"
She raised her foot again, aiming to stomp his insolent length into submission—
—only for him to roll upright and catch her ankle mid-strike. In one fluid motion, he pulled her into a forced split, her body slamming against his as her drenched entrance came to rest directly atop his throbbing erection.
The heat. The hardness. The way her trembling folds just barely brushed against him—
"AHH!! I'LL KILL YOU!"
Instinctively, Mai reached for the fans hidden in her cleavage—only for her fingers to brush against the sticky remnants Ryuji had left behind. The realization made her freeze for a split second before she became more angry
"YOU—!"
She swung a fist at his chest, but he caught her wrist effortlessly, his expression turning deadly serious.
"If you keep hitting me, you will lose your virginity today."
His tone left no room for doubt—and as if to emphasize his point, his dick between them pulsed, growing even harder against her.
Mai's breath hitched.
The friction of his growing length against her soaked panties sent unwelcome sparks through her body. Worse, the fabric had begun to shift from the movement, the subtle drag against her sensitive skin making her thighs tremble.
A terrifying realization dawned on her:
If this fight continues... he will follow through on his threat.
"Y-You damn bastard! Let me go! And pull your damn pants up!"
She yanked her wrist free, and Ryuji released her leg without resistance.
As her toned thighs snapped back together, he couldn't help but sigh in regret.
Damn it... I was too focused on her chest to properly appreciate those legs.
Mai's thighs were legendarily soft—and he'd just missed his chance to savor them.
What a waste.
Mai's thighs were divine to touch.
Not just because of their perfect shape, but because her years as a martial artist had sculpted them into a flawless balance of firm muscle and velvety softness.
If Mai's legs feel this good... what about Chun-Li? Cammy? Or any of those fighters who specialize in kicks?
Ryuji's imagination ran wild.
What could he say? He was that kind of man.
Still, the lingering clarity of his post-nut clarity kept him in check—for now. He obediently pulled his pants back up, and Mai, seeing his compliance, scoffed before rummaging through his bag for spare clothes.
Modern outfits were definitely safer. The Demon Slayer Corps' traditional wear might look elegant, but it was far too easy for Ryuji to exploit.
As she stormed off, Mai couldn't help but press a hand to her still-tingling chest. Her legs felt oddly weak, and an unfamiliar warmth lingered in her core, making her replay the sensations over and over in her mind.
Meanwhile, Ryuji studied the damp spot on the tatami with scientific interest.
"So it's true... women can climax just from nipple stimulation."
He nodded sagely.
Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just men who enjoyed breast play—women did too. In fact, proper stimulation of the nipples could lead to full-blown orgasms, thanks to an evolutionary mechanism designed to aid breastfeeding.
"It's all part of the biological mechanisms that aid breastfeeding," Ryuji mused to himself.
That's why stimulating a woman's nipples with more pressure during intimate moments often brought heightened pleasure—along with an inexplicable mix of embarrassment and comfort.
Simply the body's nursing instincts kicking in.
After all, lactation—much like childbirth—was an exhausting process with little immediate reward for the mother. Without some built-in incentive, many lifeforms would instinctively avoid it.
"What a shame."
Ryuji sighed, staring at the now-empty room.
Mai and Andy's bond had been nearly unbreakable—their mutual affection so strong that without Andy's abrupt misunderstanding and impulsive marriage, no amount of interference could have swayed Mai.
The real obstacle was his own stance. Mai clearly despised polygamy, while Ryuji had openly declared his harem ambitions. Had he pretended otherwise, Shinobu wouldn't have even entered the picture—Mai would've willingly thrown herself at him long ago.
Even if winning her over was taking its time, there was no doubt—so long as he could meet all of Mai's demands, she wouldn't complain much even if he started a harem in the King of Fighters world. At most, she'd have a few opinions about it.
And those "opinions" wouldn't be a problem as long as his strength—and his abilities in bed—were more than enough.
After all, every girl had her own personality, and many simply couldn't accept their lover having other women.
Even Erina, who accepted it the quickest, only did so because she knew he'd been through life-and-death struggles. She tolerated it because she couldn't satisfy him alone—and because she herself came from a powerful family, having seen every kind of scandal imaginable. Her threshold for acceptance was naturally high.
"Well, there's only one monster left now. It won't take much longer."
Ryuji opened the window to let in some fresh air, changed into fresh clothes, and slung the child-sized Nezuko over his shoulder before heading out.
He had absolutely no interest in Muzan—because that slippery bastard was just too sly.
There was no concrete evidence, but Ryuji was almost certain Muzan had already fled.
After all, that guy was exactly the sort to do something so shameless.
Ryuji didn't remember much about Demon Slayer, but he did recall very clearly that Muzan had been so terrified by Yoriichi Tsugikuni that he hid for centuries. When he later saw Tanjiro, he'd practically had a PTSD attack on the spot.
So Ryuji had no real hope that Muzan would still be in Japan.
Even Muzan's search for the Blue Spider Lily was ultimately about surviving better—not about conquering the world.
The demons infesting the land right now, on the other hand, behaved like pure invaders. Even if Muzan wanted to surrender, those creatures would never accept it.
Still… it wasn't impossible that things might turn out differently.
Ryuji began to think things over. The two demons he'd killed so far had very different tactics—one altered the ecosystem itself, making it impossible for native life to survive in the new environment. You could call it a calculated ecological invasion. The other had gone straight for environmental transformation, trying to remake the world into a place uninhabitable for anyone else.
That strange starlight… Ryuji wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he suspected it was radiation. He'd originally planned to check it with a Geiger counter after returning, but once the golden light had passed, everything in the area had been restored to normal. Even the Geiger counter showed no reaction there, and naturally, neither did their bodies.
"So… these things really are a pain. Is the next one going to be an endless source of soldiers? Or something else entirely? Or maybe the worst kind—the type that directly alters the rules themselves?"
Ryuji frowned. The truth was, at this stage, the Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps were of absolutely no help to him. Even Mai, for all her skills, couldn't really contribute here.
None of them could withstand the enemy's attacks—a single area-of-effect strike would wipe them out.
In other words, if he wanted to preserve his own strength, the best option would be to leave all the Hashira behind. But that also meant that if he ran into real danger, there would be no one around to help him.
Which meant…
He glanced at Nezuko on his shoulder—and only then noticed he'd absentmindedly positioned her so her butt was right next to his face.
"When the hell did I develop this habit?"
Silently, he adjusted Nezuko so that her head was by his shoulder instead. She was in a child's body right now, and it would be far too easy for people to get the wrong idea.
Sure, this world didn't have any laws protecting children's rights, but Ryuji prided himself on having a moral compass and a sense of decency.
There was no way he'd do something that tasteless.
But just as he turned her around, he caught sight of a figure rushing toward him—it was none other than his future brother-in-law—no, wait, Nezuko's brother, Tanjiro.
"Nezuko!"
Spotting his sister in Ryuji's arms, Tanjiro shouted in delight and ran straight toward him.
Ryuji didn't hesitate—he grabbed Nezuko by the back of her collar, like picking up a kitten, and handed her over.
"Keep a closer eye on your sister. She wandered over to my place. Oh, and by the way, Tanjiro—"
Ryuji looked at Tanjiro with a rare seriousness.
Yes, he had fed Nezuko with his own life force—but there were still some things her brother needed to be told.
"Right now, Nezuko is… very hungry."
Tanjiro's expression instantly turned to horror. After all, Nezuko was a demon—if she was "very hungry," that could only mean…
"But don't worry," Ryuji continued. "I've already fed her with my life force—uh, you could think of it as life essence or something like that. After her next physical transformation, she won't feel hunger anymore."
He suddenly realized Tanjiro might not actually understand what "life force" was. Truth be told, Ryuji didn't really understand it himself—he could only manipulate it.
What exactly was it? He couldn't say. He only knew that once it was extracted, his cellular vitality dropped, even affecting his cells' lifespan. The only reason he dared to use it on Nezuko was because the Dragonfire could, to some extent, replenish it. Otherwise, there was no way he'd waste something so precious.
It was energy, yes—but it also carried strange, unexplainable abilities. Until he had the means to study it properly, he had decided not to think too hard about it.
But Tanjiro clearly misunderstood. He knew what life force was—but the idea that Ryuji could control it? That wasn't where his mind went.
Instead…
Tanjiro's nose twitched. And suddenly, on Nezuko's body, he caught a scent—one he'd only ever smelled from certain… questionable types of men, and from his own father after those nights with his mother, when both had been gasping for breath.
His face changed instantly.
Without even bothering to analyze the scent in detail, his eyes snapped to Ryuji.
"You… could it be—"
Ryuji had no idea what Tanjiro was thinking. He'd completely forgotten how absurdly sharp the boy's nose was. Seeing the shock on Tanjiro's face, he simply assumed the kid was astonished that he could manipulate life force.
"That's right," he said confidently. "It's exactly what you're thinking."
As it turned out, there are some moments when it's better not to act cool.
"Ryuji-sama! How could you?! Nezuko's in the body of a child right now!"
Tanjiro immediately yanked Nezuko behind him, tears streaming down his face, his hand flying to the hilt of his Nichirin Blade. He looked ready to fight to the death.
He respected Ryuji deeply—but never in his wildest dreams had he thought that the man he admired would do such a thing to Nezuko!
He remembered how Ryuji had held her in his arms earlier, and it only confirmed his suspicion. After all, who else besides family would hold a demon like that?
In his mind, there was no explanation other than Ryuji having… those kinds of thoughts.
Images flashed in his head—Nezuko being force-fed something strange, her innocence violated. As her brother, he couldn't bear it!
Even knowing that attacking Ryuji meant certain death, Tanjiro was prepared to risk everything. This was his only family left. Even if it meant being shattered to pieces, he would demand an explanation!
"You could have just waited until Nezuko was restored before proposing marriage! Why would you do something like this? You're… you're—"
That was when Ryuji finally caught on.
In a burst of speed, he closed the distance, one hand pressing down on Tanjiro's blade, the other thumping the boy hard on the head.
Thud!
Tanjiro's head snapped forward from the impact. Ryuji's own knuckles stung like he'd just punched titanium, but there was no time to dwell on it. Shaking out his hand, he glared at Tanjiro in outrage.
"What the hell are you talking about?! How could I ever do something like that to such a small kid?! Don't insult my integrity and morals as a pervert!"
Tanjiro stared at him, rubbing his head in confusion, as Ryuji righteously declared:
"Even if I were to grope a flat-chested woman, I would never touch an eight-year-old! What's going on in your head?!"
There was a strange sense of justice in his tone—but something about the logic felt… off to Tanjiro.
Still, as he sniffed again, he caught another scent—this one clearly belonging to Mai. His mind cleared instantly. He realized he'd made a mistake.
Leaning down to sniff Nezuko more carefully, he found no trace of Ryuji's touch, no hint of lust—only the lingering scent of Ryuji's desire for Mai.
Relief washed over him, and without hesitation, he dropped into a full prostration before Ryuji.
"I—I'm sorry, Ryuji-sama! I misunderstood you!"
Ryuji, unused to people bowing to him like that, grabbed Tanjiro by the collar and hauled him up like a kitten, giving him a light shake.
"Good. As long as you understand," Ryuji said, looking at Tanjiro.
That was when he suddenly remembered something—Tanjiro supposedly knew the Sun Breathing technique.
Sure, Ryuji could just use his resurrection ability to bring back Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the first-generation Sun Breathing swordsman. But with Muzan's crippling PTSD toward Yoriichi, the moment Muzan saw him, the demon would almost certainly bolt rather than gather his forces for a showdown.
However… if Tanjiro himself mastered Sun Breathing, Muzan might actually show up to personally destroy both the technique and what's left of the Demon Slayer Corps.
The problem was, Tanjiro's body didn't seem perfectly suited for Sun Breathing, and he wasn't exactly a powerhouse yet.
Unless…
Ryuji's eyes narrowed. If he had Tanjiro train directly under Yoriichi, not only could the boy master Sun Breathing under the best possible guidance, but Yoriichi might also be able to improve upon his own technique after observing the other Breathing Styles that had developed over the centuries.
That could work.
"Hey, kid," Ryuji said, giving Tanjiro a shake. "Since you made a mistake, you'll need to properly apologize and take your punishment. How about this—you dance for me. Do that, and we'll call this matter settled."
Tanjiro scratched his head, looking surprised. "Dance? Uh… but I only know my family's traditional kagura dance…"
Exactly what I want, Ryuji thought.
"Then do the one you know. I'm not asking you to embarrass yourself—just to apologize. Come on, we're heading to the grove."
With that, he picked up Nezuko as well, carrying them both like kittens as he walked toward the outer edge of the Corps' camp.
Along the way, he kept his Observation Haki active—and quickly noticed a disturbing trend. Many Demon Slayers were dueling or outright trying to kill each other. And it wasn't just a handful—there were plenty of them.
Some were carrying out assassinations within the Corps' housing, but most had taken their fights into the forest.
Mitsuri, Shinobu, and several other Hashira were currently trying to stop the chaos.
It was obvious, even to Ryuji: the Corps' unity had shattered.
No wonder Tanjiro was so worried. The place was a mess. Releasing Nezuko now would be risky—not only because of the danger, but also because the sheer number of corpses might trigger her hunger.
"No wonder they're so desperate to have me lead the Corps," Ryuji muttered.
The situation was bad. Kagaya might be facing an opponent he couldn't handle, but the rank-and-file didn't care about that—they only saw failure.
The original two or three hundred veteran members might have stayed loyal, but the newer recruits—former samurai, police, even soldiers—were different. In the wake of a breakdown, they'd look for a scapegoat. And when the man holding the Corps together was doing so only with the help of those two or three hundred veterans and the handful of mortal Hashira… well, the outcome wasn't hard to imagine.
The only way to keep the Corps from collapsing would be for someone overwhelmingly strong to step in—someone with no visible ties to the Ubuyashiki family, respected by the Hashira, and powerful enough to crush any dissent.
And under such a leader, the Corps might not just survive, but be rebuilt from the ground up.
Understanding this, Ryuji finally saw why Kagaya had pulled him into this mess in such a ruthless way—ruthless to himself, and to his own wife.
Shinobu and Mitsuri were already naturally aligned with Ryuji. But if they became the sole foundation for rebuilding the Corps, the Ubuyashiki family's survival couldn't be guaranteed.
Kagaya couldn't predict Ryuji's true intentions—whether he wanted to destroy Muzan or cooperate with him for the sake of power or even immortality.
For the Ubuyashiki family, Muzan's death was non-negotiable. But for others… if they could let go of their hatred, most would probably never encounter another demon again.
Muzan might be a coward, avoiding large-scale demon creation to prevent another Yoriichi from appearing, but he was cunning. He could expand his influence while letting demons fade into myth.
The problem wasn't his intelligence—only that he used it for the wrong cause.
And in this situation, if Ryuji ever sought power for himself, he would almost certainly join forces with Muzan Kibutsuji.
If that happened, the Ubuyashiki clan would be wiped out within no time. The shrine maiden family tied to them by marriage—the family of Amane Ubuyashiki—would share the same fate.
That was why, whether from practicality, sentiment, or a sense of duty, Kagaya felt that handing the Demon Slayer Corps over to Ryuji required one final safeguard—his own kin. Ideally, they would even form a family with Ryuji.
But his daughter was still far too young. And there were already Shinobu and Mitsuri. He knew those two Hashira would help Ryuji, but what about the rest?
Ryuji's strength eclipsed them all.
So—
There had to be someone he trusted completely, someone capable of uniting all the Hashira, to keep an eye on Ryuji.
That person could only be Amane Ubuyashiki.
Only if Amane became Ryuji's wife could the purity of the Corps be guaranteed. And only if his daughter married Ryuji could the Ubuyashiki bloodline continue without fear.
In that way—even if Ryuji killed his son to remove a potential rival—his daughter and wife could still revive the clan. After enough time had passed, the Corps could regain its integrity… or even be rebuilt entirely from the ground up.
It was, in short, the best plan a dying man could devise.
He knew well enough there was no chance Ryuji would extend his life to seventy or eighty. He didn't even wish for such longevity; the idea of clinging to life that long might even make Ryuji resent him. Similarly, sending Shinobu and Mitsuri to beg Ryuji on his behalf would sour their relationship and create rifts between them.
It wasn't sentiment that held him back—it was clear logic.
This was a leader who understood the situation with crystal clarity.
Ryuji let out a sigh. A sharp man, no doubt. And if he's offering me his wife and daughters, what can I really say?
In all of this scheming, the only one left to bear the moral weight would be Ryuji himself. Everything else was for the sake of this world, the mission, his own people, and the future of the Ubuyashiki family.
"All of this… is Muzan Kibutsuji's fault."
Even with this understanding, Ryuji had no intention of changing his mind. He wouldn't extend Kagaya's life. He could, but he simply had no interest.
Once, the thought had crossed his mind. But realizing exactly how Kagaya had calculated him made that idea vanish completely—along with any lingering hesitation toward Amane.
Still, what could he do? The man had already entrusted him with his family, his resources, his very legacy—even accepting the possibility of his own son's death at Ryuji's hands.
"Guess it's true… once you have strength, status, and wealth, women just come knocking."
He didn't brood over it. That was simply the truth—Kagaya was trading everything for the Corps' purity and his children's future.
This wasn't Ryuji forcing himself into the position. Kagaya had chosen him for his strength… and his appetites.
Any lingering guilt was gone.
"Shame about Kagaya, though. But being shoved into this role like some villain—it's disgusting. I was already willing to help the Corps a bit, for Shinobu and Mitsuri's sake, and out of respect for the slayers who've left me with a good impression. If I ran into Muzan, I'd kill him on sight. But to be calculated like this? Infuriating!"
Ryuji landed in an open clearing, deciding he'd have a serious talk with Kagaya later—though he doubted it was necessary. He'd realized something important.
His irritation wasn't just from being forced into it and treated like a villain—it was also because…
The image of Amane Ubuyashiki flashed in his mind.
"She's not nearly beautiful enough for me to break my own principles. Sure, I've thought about getting to know her… but her looks aren't enough to make me cross that line."
With that realization, he felt instantly lighter.
If there was no temptation, there was no trap.
He'd just explain things to Kagaya when the time came. No moral leash would be fastened to him—not even by a good man.
Because that would only get in the way of building the harmonious, dazzling harem he envisioned.
That thought made his fists clench.
If Kagaya weren't a sickly man—if one punch wouldn't leave him half-paralyzed and make Amane cling to him out of pity—Ryuji would have happily beaten him into a permanent injury.
Wait.
Come to think of it, the man was already half-paralyzed.
Feeling refreshed after untangling his thoughts, Ryuji tossed Tanjiro into the empty space. From his bag, he pulled out a small pouch of sunflower seeds, cracking them idly while gesturing for Tanjiro to begin his "performance."
Tanjiro could only sigh. Resisting Ryuji was impossible, and in truth, he didn't mind—he had been in the wrong.
The only problem was the embarrassment of dancing.
Still, he picked up a branch, inhaled in the pattern his father had taught him, and began moving through the steps of his family's sacred kagura.
Ryuji's observation haki was active the entire time, letting him see Tanjiro's breathing shift completely from the patterns he used in other styles.
And it was obvious—Tanjiro's body wasn't built for this technique. In fact, not even Water Breathing suited him.
Shinobu and Mitsuri's breathing techniques also placed strain on their bodies, but only slightly—and in their cases, their physical constitutions meshed well with their respective styles.Tanjiro, however, was different.
His body suffered from a host of problems brought on by his breathing method.
Ryuji had noticed that, in many situations, Tanjiro's breathing failed to deliver the intended effect. In fact, it often left him struggling—his movements becoming jerky whenever he tried to take in a deep breath, unable to follow through with a clean strike. It was the clearest sign that his body simply wasn't suited to the Sun Breathing style.
His physique was nothing like that of Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
And of course, that was to be expected. Yoriichi had undoubtedly been born into a prominent family. Even if his diet had been poor, it still would have been far better than what Tanjiro had growing up. Add to that the overwhelming gap in natural talent and physical aptitude, and the difference was like heaven and earth.
He quietly took note of all this as he observed Tanjiro's breathing technique—and then began to adjust his own breathing accordingly.
Although he had no need to adopt this style outright, there was still value in absorbing its essence and certain principles. His plan was to study more, refine what he could, then exchange insights with Yoriichi before finally hunting down the last demon to unlock Genius Mode, maximizing his overall gains.
He had not forgotten his true objective.
At some point, without even realizing it, his breathing pattern had shifted again. And just then, Nezuko—who had been standing nearby—seemed to sense something. Under Ryuji's astonished gaze, she began unconsciously mirroring his breathing rhythm.
Yes—without any conscious effort, Nezuko had started using the Sun Breathing technique.
And what's more…
She was far better at it than Tanjiro.
Not only that, but as Ryuji completed the Sun Breathing sequence, Nezuko also completed it—then, entirely without awareness, she subtly modified it into a form even Ryuji himself couldn't comprehend. Moments later, he felt her energy dip sharply, her body beginning to change once again.
It was obvious—she would need to hunt soon.
Indeed, after unconsciously mastering the Sun Breathing style, Nezuko had evolved yet again.
~~~~~~~~~~
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