Since the Meiji era, the Yoshiwara red-light district has been a symbol of Japan's nightlife, a glittering world of pleasure that thrived through the Taisho period. It was a place where dreams were sold, where countless courtesans became legends, and where Japan's modern entertainment industry was born.
As night fell, the district transformed. Lanterns cast a warm glow over streets teeming with people. Modern cars and rickshaws navigated the bustling crowds, creating a lively scene of constant motion. The air was filled with music, laughter, and the scent of perfume. To the men who flocked here, it was a paradise on earth, a place where any desire could be fulfilled for a price. The only limits were the strength of a man's body and the depth of his wallet.
But as the saying goes, behind glamour, there is always filth. The prosperity of Yoshiwara was built on a foundation of sorrow and human trafficking. Young women were sold into this life, their youth and beauty consumed by the endless desires of their clients. It was a beautiful cage, but a cage nonetheless.
And tonight, something far more sinister lurked within it. Unknown to the revelers below, two of the Twelve Kizuki, Daki and Gyutaro, watched from the highest pavilion in the district. They had seen this same scene countless times, first as desperate humans and now as powerful demons. The view was the same, but their perspective had changed entirely.
"Our master has ordered us to hide the Japanese Crown Prince and his brothers here," Gyutaro hissed, his hunched figure barely visible in the dark. "This entire district will be the battlefield where we finally eliminate the Hashira."
"They're just Hashira," Daki scoffed, her voice filled with disdain. "It's not like we haven't killed them before." In life, they had been tormented by the people of this district. In death, they had become its cruel masters.
"This time is different," Gyutaro said, his eyes glowing with a deep intensity. "The entire district is surrounded by thousands of newly turned demons. There are even legions of them armed with the firearms of the soldiers they've devoured. Our master's goal isn't just to destroy Ubuyashiki and the Demon Slayer Corps. He wants to become the king of all Japan."
"Yes," Daki agreed, gently stroking the sash around her waist, which writhed like a living creature. "And all we have to do is obey our master's every command."
"Tonight will not be a peaceful one," Gyutaro murmured, his gaze falling upon the crowds below, seeing ghosts of his past and present in their faces.
At that same moment, the remaining six Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps gathered for a final briefing. There was little strategy to discuss. This was a mission they could not refuse, an order forced upon them by the Japanese Imperial Family. No matter what it took, they had to rescue the Crown Prince and his brothers.
They all knew it was a trap. Even with their newly awakened Demon Slayer Marks, they understood that facing Muzan Kibutsuji and the Twelve Kizuki would be an incredibly difficult fight. The entire situation felt chillingly similar to the Mugen Train incident, with Muzan once again forcing them onto the defensive.
The Stone Hashira, Gyomei Himejima, looked at the five other slayers. "Everyone, in the eyes of the other powers in Japan, the Demon Slayer Corps is already a dying force. We must not only complete this mission but also do everything we can to survive."
He knew that hoping to kill Muzan in this battle was almost impossible. The Muzan they once knew was cunning and cruel, but also cowardly and predictable. The demon they faced now was completely different. This new Muzan was a brilliant strategist with a tiger's ambition, a decisive killer who was both forceful and domineering. Facing him felt like facing a vengeful god.
"Understood!" the Hashira answered in unison.
"Very well," Gyomei said, his voice firm. "Let us depart!"
In an instant, six figures vanished, speeding toward the glowing lights of the Yoshiwara district.
Back at the Ubuyashiki estate, Kagaya listened to the report that the Hashira had departed. He let out a long sigh, his blind eyes filled with worry.
"Compared to the old Muzan, this new one is not only more methodical, but his calculations are astonishing. He excels at psychological warfare," he said quietly to his wife, Amane.
"Amane, what I fear most is that this battle in Yoshiwara is not his true plan. What if it's merely a feint? A distraction to lure our strongest fighters away while his real objective is... us?"
The air in the room grew heavy with silence. Amane's purple eyes remained calm, but she knew his fears were justified. Even with the head of the Shrine Maiden clan now involved, they all felt a deep sense of urgency. The old Muzan would have simply hidden in the shadows, waiting for them to die from his curse or old age.
But this new Muzan was dangerously unpredictable. His every move was a mystery, his true intentions impossible to guess. No one knew what he was truly planning. But one thing was certain: they could not afford to simply sit and wait for death to find them.
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