The reason the Hand Demon held such deep hatred for Urokodaki Sakonji was because it had been imprisoned on Mt. Fujikasane because of him.
Not long after becoming a demon, the Hand Demon had been captured alive by Urokodaki and dragged to this mountain. Since then, it had been forced to serve as a deadly examiner for the Final Selection. Driven by resentment and bloodlust, the Hand Demon devoured countless aspiring demon slayers—many of them former disciples of Urokodaki himself.
Over the years, that hatred only grew. Feeding on dozens of demon slayers had made the Hand Demon powerful—perhaps the strongest demon still lurking on Mt. Fujikasane.
And now, it was enraged.
"Tonight, every demon will follow me. We'll find that brat and tear him apart! We'll slaughter this entire selection team!" the Hand Demon bellowed, eyes flashing with murderous glee.
"Long live Lord Hand Demon!"
"Long live Lord Hand Demon!"
"Long live Lord Hand Demon!"
The cheers echoed through the underground cavern, deep beneath the mountain—more than ten meters below the earth.
Elsewhere, Shin Arashi was quietly eating dried rations beneath a tree. He had no idea that his actions the previous night had enraged the demons of the mountain—or that he was now the target of a massive hunt.
For now, Shin simply waited for nightfall, resting and recovering before continuing the mission assigned by his system.
Meanwhile, Tanjiro pushed deeper into Mt. Fujikasane in search of Shin Arashi. But unknowingly, he was moving farther away from him. After defeating the demons the night before, Shin had stayed in a safe zone he had carved out and marked with water techniques. He hadn't gone deeper.
Tanjiro and Shin had completely missed each other.
"Tanjiro," Zenitsu whined, clearly exhausted, "do you think Senior Shin is avoiding us on purpose? We've been looking all day! What if we run into a demon out here?"
Tanjiro's expression was grim, and he didn't respond. The sun had already set, and Shin Arashi was still nowhere to be found. Doubt crept into Tanjiro's mind.
Was this a mistake?
Should I have stayed in the safe zone with the others?
What if something happens to us out here?
Then—his senses sharpened.
Tanjiro suddenly froze. "Something's coming," he said quietly, his voice filled with urgency.
Before he could explain further, Zenitsu threw his arms around Tanjiro in terror. "T-Tanjiro! Don't say creepy stuff like that!"
Tanjiro didn't react. He was focused—nose twitching, analyzing the scent. The stench of demons was thick in the air, and it was closing in fast.
But something was wrong.
The scent wasn't just from one demon—it was many.
"A group…?" Tanjiro muttered. Then his eyes widened.
"Everyone—run down the mountain! Now!" he shouted.
There was no time to explain. A deep instinct, honed through battle and survival, screamed at him to flee.
But just as the words left his mouth, several black shadows burst from the treetops, landing heavily in front of them. The path was blocked.
The demons had arrived.