"Lord Kazuji, you're drunk."
"No! I'm not drunk!! I can still drink! Why… Ayako, do you think I can't drink?"
Inside a room somewhere in the brothel, a girl named Ayako was serving a man with a shaved head—Kazuji.
He clutched a wine jug in his hand, his face flushed red, reeking of alcohol, and shouting incoherently in a drunken stupor.
Ayako had no choice but to pour him another drink. Then she said gently, "Then Mr. Kazuji, please drink a little less. You still have work tomorrow."
"Newspaper… that damn newspaper… They didn't bring in the good things from abroad, no—they brought in that… that way of treating people like livestock… No! I'm not going tomorrow! I'll just drink here… Come on, Ayako… drink with me… drink…"
Kazuji rambled on drunkenly, but in the end, he couldn't withstand the alcohol's effects.
With a heavy thud, he collapsed face-first onto the table.
Ayako quickly reached out to gather the plates and side dishes before he fell, preventing them from crashing to the floor.
Looking at Kazuji, now completely passed out, Ayako couldn't help but let out a sigh.
No—more accurately, it was a breath of relief.
"You're really lucky, Lord Kazuji. If you were any more sober… I'm afraid I wouldn't have a choice but to take you away..."
She whispered to the unconscious man.
Ayako was talking to herself—it was a habit of hers. She always did this when she was about to do something she didn't want to, or when she was nervous.
To calm her nerves.
Usually, no one ever heard her muttering, much less responded.
However, what frightened Ayako today was that a stranger's voice suddenly sounded behind her:
"Really? And where were you planning to take him?"
The voice belonged to a young man, sounding like a teenager.
!!!
Ayako turned her head sharply—and saw a boy standing behind her in wooden clogs, dressed in a dark green kimono, with the refined appearance of a scholar.
She had no idea how long he had been standing there. His red pupils gleamed brightly under the room's light.
What stood out most was the teardrop-shaped mole beneath his right eye, which gave him a distinct and striking charm. Ayako was momentarily stunned by his sudden appearance, but then something clicked in her mind.
She quickly snatched up a pair of scissors and pointed them at the boy in front of her.
"You… you… who are you?! How did you get in?!"
The boy ignored the scissors and slowly stepped forward, his eyes locked onto hers. The pressure radiating from him pinned Ayako in place—she couldn't even move.
"You haven't answered me yet. Where are you taking him?"
The boy placed his hands on his hips.
Ayako followed his movement and noticed the hilt of a sword partially hidden beneath his kimono.
A sword…?
He's carrying a sword? Is it real?
Ayako wasn't sure whether the weapon was real or not. After all, with the Sword Ban Order still in effect, no one dared to carry a blade openly in public.
And even if they did, most were bamboo practice swords or wooden replicas.
However, under the oppressive pressure radiating from the boy, Ayako began to believe that the sword he carried might actually be real.
"I... I..." Her voice trembled. Just thinking about it made her too scared to speak.
Then, in the blink of an eye, a flash of cold light streaked through the air.
Ayako hadn't even seen him move. One moment, everything was still—the next, his blade was out, pressed against her throat.
"I'll give you one last chance," the boy said coldly. "Where were you planning to take him? And… why are you helping demons? Answer me, and I might spare your life."
His voice was calm—unnervingly calm. So calm that it sent chills down Ayako's spine.
Wait… demons?
Did he just say demons?
"You… you're a Demon Slayer…"
At that moment, Ayako suddenly understood who he was.
The boy's red eyes flashed. His gaze locked onto hers, and his voice grew lower, more threatening:
"You know about Demon Slayers?"
Of course, Ayako knew about them.
The one she worked for—that demon—had killed several Demon Slayers already.
At first, they thought that encountering a Demon Slayer might mean a chance to escape from the demon's control, but...
"Quick… you have to go…!"
Ayako suddenly urged the boy, her voice sharp with panic. "Hurry! Leave before… before he notices anything. Go, now!"
"…"
Perhaps moved by Ayako's desperate warning, the young man gave her a long, thoughtful look before slowly retracting his blade, tucking the hilt back beneath the hem of his loose kimono.
Then he asked, "Were you coerced?"
"I… I can't say anything… It… it left something inside my body… I… I'm not allowed to talk about it… I…"
Ayako trembled violently.
She was terrified—afraid that whatever the demon had planted inside her would detonate, turning her into a pile of bloody pulp like those who had defied it before.
Seeing how frightened she was, the boy's voice softened noticeably.
The icy tone from earlier disappeared, and he spoke with gentle reassurance:
"You probably don't know this, but there's a massive gap in strength among Demon Slayers. For someone like me, ordinary demons are no threat at all."
It sounded like he was trying to comfort her while casually stating his own strength.
Ayako only shook her head.
Seeing this, the boy added, "Demons vary in power. Only the ones with numbers in their eyes make me even slightly wary. The demon controlling you… it doesn't have numbers in its eyes, does it?"
Numbers…?
After hearing that, Ayako began recalling carefully—and the fear on her face deepened.
"Yes… yes… it does… the number… it's there…!"
"!!!"
The boy's smile vanished instantly.
A sharp light flickered in his eyes, one Ayako couldn't understand.
He stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders firmly, asking in a grave tone:
"I know you can't tell me its information directly," the boy said calmly. "So I'll ask the questions. Just answer yes or no."
He looked her in the eyes.
"There are characters engraved in its eyes, right?"
Ayako nodded.
"Among those characters… is there the phrase 'Upper Rank'?"
She shook her head.
"Lower Rank?"
She nodded.
The boy let out a slow breath, then began asking steadily, his voice low and serious.
"Then the number in the other eye—is it One? Two? Three…"
The moment he said "Three," Ayako's entire body stiffened.
That reaction confirmed everything.
One of the Twelve Kizuki—Lower Rank Three.
…
He had just mentioned wanting to take down a member of the Twelve Kizuki, and now, he'd stumbled across one. Takeo wasn't sure if he was incredibly lucky… or if the Twelve Kizuki were just extremely unfortunate.
In truth, given Takeo's current Corps rank, the proper procedure upon discovering the presence of a Twelve Kizuki was not to engage immediately. He should've notified his Kasugai Crow to summon the nearest Hashira.
First, to avoid dying needlessly.
Second, to prevent alerting the demon and giving it time to escape once it realized the Corps was deploying a Hashira.
Heh~
But… that was what ordinary Demon Slayer Corps members were expected to do.
Based on his current strength, Takeo should be capable of killing a standard Lower Rank demon—something that Kyojuro had already confirmed.
Therefore, if Takeo wanted to become a Hashira as soon as possible, he had to personally slay the Twelve Kizuki member hiding here.
However, even with that determination, Takeo still contacted Kotaro midway and asked him to notify the nearest Hashira.
Just in case.
What if this Lower Rank demon turned out to be stronger than expected and Takeo couldn't defeat it on his own? In that case, a Hashira would need to finish the job to prevent the demon from escaping.
Compared to becoming a Hashira himself, ensuring the elimination of a Twelve Kizuki member was the highest priority.
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o(*￣▽￣*)ブRead 12 Advance chaps—P@treon: HornyFBI