Chapter 12: Fishing
Akira stretched out his hand toward the young man below and said coldly, "Blood Demon Art: Blood Crows of Suppression!"
Countless blood-red crows surged forth from Akira's palm, crashing down like a violent tide. The swarm completely engulfed the young man, who was too stunned and paralyzed to resist. When the crows finally dispersed, only two bleached bones remained where the man once stood—picked clean.
The exhilarating surge of power from devouring flesh and blood coursed through Akira's veins. He looked down at his palm, a smirk tugging at his lips.
This power… it was intoxicating.
He was no longer the dying man he once was. Now, he was something else—something more. A demon under the command of Muzan Kibutsuji.
On the day he met Muzan, Akira was turned into a demon. From that moment, his body began to change. Strangely, the fusion of a crow during the transformation had altered his Blood Demon Art, giving it a unique crow-based form.
But Akira didn't care about these changes. All that mattered was that he was no longer fated to die.
He now had time—time to do whatever he wanted.
He smiled darkly. "Miraijura… you're next."
---
Akira strolled alone through a bustling street filled with people.
Clad in a cloak as dark as midnight, he blended into the shadows. No one paid him any attention, unaware that an evil demon walked quietly among them.
Aimlessly wandering, Akira eventually found himself in front of a sushi restaurant. His steps halted as if enchanted. His gaze fixated on the interior, lost in a daze.
The restaurant owner, a young girl, noticed him staring and mistook his hesitation for poverty.
She stepped outside with a small plate of sushi and offered it with a gentle smile. "Would you like to try some? It's okay if you don't have any money."
Her kindness snapped Akira from his trance. His dull eyes softened, and he whispered a quiet "Thank you" before stepping inside.
He chose a quiet corner and had just sat down when two more people entered the restaurant.
They wore the iconic uniforms of the Demon Slayer Corps.
The pair took the seats next to Akira, ordered sushi, and chatted loudly while eating, completely unaware that a demon sat mere feet away.
Akira remained silent, listening.
"Two people went missing in Senlin Mountain recently," one said.
"I heard. That means the demon we're after is probably dangerous," the other replied.
"My master is on the way. We're just here to investigate for the next two days. If we can find any clues, that'll be enough."
"Has Lord Naruhira arrived?"
"He'll be here in two days."
The two finished eating, paid their bill, and left the restaurant.
Akira stood as well. After politely thanking the girl for the meal, he quietly followed them.
When the girl came to clean the table, she noticed the untouched sushi. Just as she began to worry the food wasn't to Akira's liking, she spotted a few folded bills left beneath the plate—the exact amount for the meal.
---
Outside, the two Demon Slayers walked ahead while Akira followed several dozen meters behind, maintaining a steady distance.
They soon turned onto an empty street—quiet and deserted compared to the one before.
Suddenly, the two Demon Slayers stopped.
"I noticed you as soon as you entered the restaurant," one said, turning to face Akira with calm, cold eyes. "But there were too many people around then to make a move."
"You were bold to follow us," the other added. "But this saves us the trouble of worrying about civilian casualties."
Both drew their Nichirin Blades.
This had been a trap from the start—a well-executed plan to lure Akira in. The bait had been taken, and now the time for games was over.
"I see," Akira said flatly. "It seems the Demon Slayer Corps has produced quite a few talented children lately."
"No more talk!"
With no further warning, the two lunged at Akira.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
"Wind Breathing, First Form: Dust Whirlwind Slash!"
Lightning and wind exploded on either side of Akira. He raised his palms to block, but they were immediately severed. Forced to retreat, Akira barely dodged the next blow. But his attackers stuck to him like glue.
These weren't ordinary Demon Slayers. One was the stepson of the Sound Hashira, and the other was equally formidable. They had honed their instincts through countless battles against demons, which was how they'd sensed Akira the moment he entered the restaurant.
They often operated as a team, and many demons had perished by their hands. Bold and confident, they had risked drawing Akira out even though the Sound Hashira would arrive in two days.
Their gamble paid off.
Although Akira was stronger than any demon they'd faced before, after two hours of intense battle, the Wind user finally decapitated Akira—though he lost an arm in the process.
As Akira's body collapsed, the two warriors exhaled in relief.
They were both completely spent. If they hadn't won, they would've died next.
"Xiaoyong, how's your arm?" the Sound Hashira's disciple asked with guilt. "It's my fault. If not for me—"
"It's fine," Xiaoyong replied, forcing a weak smile. "Killing that demon was worth it."
But before they could celebrate, a chilling presence crept up behind them.
"Magnificent."
The voice froze them.
They turned slowly, dreading what they might see.
Akira stood behind them, fully restored, not a scratch on him.
"What a beautiful battle," he said, his tone eerily calm. "Especially you, little one who lost your arm."
Then he turned to the Sound Hashira's disciple.
"As for you… just like your master. Both as a swordsman and as a person… trash."