"How dare you get distracted?!" A maple-red light flared from the Nichirin blade in Yuichiro's hand.
Seeing that this creature still had the audacity to watch his master's transformation while in the middle of a fight, Yuichiro's rage boiled over.
'I don't know what's happened to Master, or why he's suddenly taken that form,' he thought, his resolve hardening.
'But he is my master.'
'He must have his reasons.'
'That's all that matters!'
"Breath of Maple, Third Form: Autumn's First Leaf!"
At the same instant, Muichiro attacked, his blade became a blur.
The movements of his Mist Breathing were so fast they left no afterimage, his sword arriving at Kamaro's neck a fraction of a second before his brother's.
"Oh, what two impatient children," Kamaro grinned, finally making his move.
"Blood Demon Art: Pseudo-Darkness."
His body seemed to ripple and distort.
From his chest and back, two gray, shadowy, humanoid figures suddenly erupted.
The blades flashed.
Breath of Water, First Form: Water Surface Slash!
Breath of Wind, Second Form: Purifying Wind Claws!
Gray energy slashes met their attack.
A gray wind claw parried Muichiro's blade, while a gray water slash deflected Yuichiro's.
What?!
The Tokito brothers' eyes widened in unison.
Kamaro had used breathing techniques against them? No, that wasn't right.
The forms were perfect, but the feel of them was… wrong.
Looking closer, they saw the two writhing gray shadows attached to Kamaro's body, each holding a black, knife-like weapon.
Those shadows… they were the ones who had launched the attacks.
The look of pure shock on their faces was clearly to Kamaro's liking.
It is well known that the Upper Moon Six is the weakest of the lot, isn't it? he thought mockingly.
The Demon Slayers think so.
The other Upper Moons think so.
It is such a useful reputation.
"Hmm, as much as I dislike fighting, I suppose I should take today's mission seriously," Kamaro purred, a teasing glint in his eye.
"After all, one must respect the requests of that adult."
Without another word, he rushed toward the still-stunned Yuichiro.
Snap!
Casually tossing aside a severed head, its eyes still wide with terror, the demonized Shinichi bared his fangs at the other screaming humans.
The magnificent ballroom had become a true hell on earth.
The air was thick with the coppery stench of blood, making it hard to breathe.
Broken limbs were strewn across the fine carpets, mingling with spilled wine and shattered crystal.
Painful groans, devastating cries, and desperate pleas for mercy filled the air.
Shinichi stood at the center of the carnage like a devil born from a pool of blood.
The scarlet demonic energy swirling around him had not yet subsided, and blood dripped from his fangs and claws, hitting the floor with a heart-stopping tick, tick, tick.
At his feet lay more than a dozen mangled corpses and even more wounded, wailing in agony.
It looked like a massacre, but in truth, he had been surgically precise.
He hadn't killed indiscriminately.
He had used methods of extreme, terrifying cruelty to break the will of his very specific targets.
From the beginning, his targets had been clear: the military hardliners and cabinet fanatics who, in his "memories" and from information Ryukawa Chinatsu had let slip, were the greatest obstacles to the Moriki Group's efforts to support the Demon Slayer Corps.
Just then—
"Shinichi!"
An anxious, disbelieving cry came from the second-floor balcony.
It was Chinatsu.
She had been freed by Sabito, who now stood beside her.
She gripped the railing, her face deathly pale as she stared down at the hellscape below, at the familiar yet monstrously alien figure of Shinichi.
'Oh, it seems my little spell has been broken,' Kamaro thought, as he pressed his attack on Yuichiro.
'Congratulations, Miss Ryukawa Chinatsu. You are free.'
Beside her, Sabito also took in the bloody scene, his normally calm expression shattering.
Even for a Hashira, the sight of his comrade, radiating a demonic aura and standing amidst such butchery, was a shock that struck him to the core.
"Shinichi-san! What are you doing?!" Satsuki's voice was filled with confusion.
"Please, calm down! We have Miss Chinatsu, she's safe! Our target is the demon! Don't let your anger consume you!"
Hearing his friend's plea, Shinichi slowly turned his head, his single scarlet eye fixing on Sabito and the pale-faced Chinatsu.
The moment their eyes met, Chinatsu's heart stopped.
Shinichi's eye… it wasn't the wild, out-of-control gaze she had expected.
Deep within the crimson inferno, there was a shocking, lucid clarity.
And something else… a silent, meaningful question.
In that instant, a series of images flashed through her mind.
A conversation from not long ago, just after the Hashira Training began.
She had been venting to Shinichi in private, complaining about her struggles to gain influence with the government.
"...those stubborn old men in the military are impossible! Especially Yamamoto and Nakagawa in the Army Department. All they can think about is some insane expansionist plan, the 'East Asia Co-Prosperity 21.' They obstruct every proposal we make…"
"…And the Finance Minister's man, Councillor Hashimoto, is a greedy, short-sighted fool. He only cares about lining his own pockets…"
"…And General Fujita, the head of National Security, is so paranoid about any group without a military background that he's blocking the Moriki Group at every turn…"
At the time, she was just complaining.
She never expected him to act on it.
But now… her eyes suddenly swept across the dead and dying on the floor below.
The lieutenant general with the exploded head… that was General Yamamoto.
The cabinet official clutching the stump of his severed arm… that was Councillor Hashimoto.
The old man with a gaping hole in his chest, barely breathing… that was General Fujita.
And the others, the ones who were severely injured… nearly all of them were the men who had stood in her way.
"Shinichi…" she breathed, a horrifying, unbelievable realization dawning on her.
"You…"
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