Soul!
Upper Rank Five had thought this young man was merely accepting his fate, acting carefree because his life was slipping away... He never expected such arrogance to run so deep.
In this world, there were plenty of people who relied on their status and power to do whatever they pleased.
Their so-called "worth" only fueled the ugliness hidden within their hearts.
"You only care about flesh... Evaluating value based on status and meat, I doubt you've ever truly encountered a soul before, have you?"
Oboro asked.
Before the demon could answer, a blade thin as a streak of light flashed toward Oboro's neck.
It aimed to sever his head cleanly.
The heavy cleaver used for butchering danced in the demon's hand as light as a feather. Even cutting through the air, it made absolutely no sound.
However, the strike missed.
The man before him seemed to stumble or lose his balance, leaning backward at the last possible second, dodging the attack in an almost supernatural manner.
The handkerchief stained with blood fell to the floor. Oboro slowly raised his head, his eyes turning cold and sharp.
He looked at the demon, who stared back in shock.
In that instant, the demon's arm had extended unnaturally... a Blood Demon Art.
"Huh?"
Upper Rank Five was stunned. Before entering, this man could barely walk. How could he possibly react to an attack like this?
Beneath his black haori, he wore samurai attire, but it was clearly for show, meant to signify status. His physical capabilities should have been far below average.
With such a frail body, logic dictated he shouldn't be capable of such speed and reflexes.
"Can't you see it?"
Suddenly, Oboro smiled gently and raised a single finger. "It is the soul..."
"My soul."
Empty nonsense.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Instantly, Upper Rank Five attacked again. His right arm shot out like a viper, the blade striking wildly. The small room was instantly filled with countless silver streaks of light, all converging on Oboro.
But... no matter how fast or sharp the blades were.
They couldn't touch him.
Moving only with his feet, Oboro weaved through the gaps and changing angles of the attack like a ghost.
"It's Breathing..."
The demon realized. The breathing technique was altering his body's capabilities.
"You are from the Demon Slayer Corps?!"
Upper Rank Five shouted in alarm, pulling back his weapon.
But it didn't fit. Demon Slayers wore distinct uniforms.
And most importantly, they carried Nichirin Swords.
Right now, Oboro was empty-handed. Without a sword, even a Pillar was not considered a threat.
His body was sickly, meaning his physical stats were garbage, but that didn't mean his skills were gone... Low stats meant the damage output might be low, but it wasn't zero. As long as the techniques existed within this world's system, their effects remained.
In other words, at least in terms of skill, Oboro was still at the pinnacle, undiminished.
His experiences and growth in the other world were deeply rooted within his soul.
His unparalleled soul—his willpower—granted him senses far sharper than normal.
Even if his crippled body couldn't sustain movement normally, the breathing techniques allowed him to temporarily break his 'limits'. The only problem was that once he used this overtaxed breathing, he had to end it quickly and become a demon as soon as possible.
Otherwise... when the effect wore off, he would die for real.
His body would completely give out...
"Hmm?"
Just as the battle inside reached a stalemate.
Sounds of commotion erupted from outside.
Shouts and the sounds of villagers being thrown aside.
Someone was coming.
Two powerful auras...
They were from the Demon Slayer Corps!
Oboro's ears twitched slightly. Upper Rank Five also glanced toward the door and windows.
When he looked back at Oboro, his eyes were filled with ferocity... He was now certain this man was a Demon Slayer, and judging by his skill level...
"Is he a Pillar..."
Upper Rank Five muttered to himself, then ripped off the outer robe he was wearing.
At first glance, it seemed like an apron to keep blood off, but in reality, it was used to hide part of his true form.
As the robe fell away, Oboro saw it—on the demon's massive belly, there was a huge human face. A line of lips stretched horizontally across his waist. The skin split open, revealing a maw filled with sharp teeth and dripping with viscous saliva.
"Three Pillars... how lucky am I... I didn't come looking for you, yet you walk right into death."
Upper Rank Five showed no panic, only excitement.
As the inhuman mouth on his stomach opened wide, another Blood Demon Art activated. A powerful suction force pulled all the blood and remains in the room inside. The room became chaotic.
Lamps were extinguished, plunging the room into darkness.
The force was so strong it cracked the wooden floorboards.
Oboro heard the sickening sound of chewing.
When the suction faded, the demon's belly had swollen to twice its size. Opening his mouth again, he spat out grotesque creatures made of stitched-together flesh. They vaguely resembled humans but were twisted abominations.
Some had four legs, others... had upper bodies made of seven or eight human heads fused together.
Meanwhile, Upper Rank Five picked up another item, his other weapon.
Besides the cleaver, there was the balance scale.
He spat out the creatures faster and faster, soon there were eight or nine of them, filling the room and limiting the space to move.
"The number of Pillars I've eaten... including you three, it will exceed twenty. Lord Muzan will be very pleased."
Upper Rank Five looked at Oboro like prey. "Your flesh is worth more than you think. Not worthless at all... in fact, I like it very much."
"I'll start with you."
He prepared to strike, intending to kill Oboro quickly first.
The flesh abominations in front of him also tensed to pounce.
"Sigh... I was hoping to play around a bit longer."
Oboro smiled. He pointed his fingers like a sword, his breathing becoming long and deep.
The villagers outside couldn't stop Pillars. If Upper Rank Five was killed before he finished, it would be troublesome.
Also, he noticed his combat instincts were still there... When he saw the demon's abilities, his mind didn't immediately think "Blood Demon Art".
Instead, it instinctively categorized them as Specialization, Transformation, and Emitter type Nen abilities.
To defeat an opponent like this, he couldn't drag it out.
A war of attrition would be too risky...
"You don't even have a sword, yet you dare..."
Looking at Oboro's stance, Upper Rank Five felt a sudden, inexplicable chill, but he forced a mocking laugh.
He was calm mainly because... Oboro had no weapon.
And the man wasn't even in a stance to draw a sword.
He was just standing there...
Breath of the Soul, Third Form: Hyakki Yagyō.
Oboro moved.
The muscles in his legs burst into a spray of blood, and the sound of cracking bones echoed, but it didn't slow his speed. In an instant, he appeared right in front of the demon.
Two fingers tapped lightly on Upper Rank Five's forehead, like a dragonfly skimming water.
As for the two flesh monsters in the way, they simply fell apart instantly.
As if torn apart by invisible brute force, fragile as paper.
Due to his low physical stats, even with breathing boosting him temporarily, there was a limit to what he could do.
The demon couldn't react in time, but he saw it clearly... This man had destroyed his creations with his bare hands!
And as he closed in, his fingers struck different points across his body, finally ending with that one tap on the forehead...
What was most terrifying was the pressure radiating from this human during the attack.
It felt as if the tiny room had suddenly been filled with countless vengeful spirits, clawing and biting at his body.
He had fought many Demon Slayers before, and he understood this pressure well.
Usually, this "killing intent" was created by the perfect coordination of sword skill, movement, and breathing.
If the angle of the blade was off, or the limbs didn't move in rhythm, the pressure would break.
Add to that the weight of the sword and the spirit of the swordsman—all three had to be in harmony to achieve this effect.
But now... this sickly man had no sword. He was fighting bare-handed. How could he possibly generate such "sword pressure"?
"It doesn't matter. He has no blade. Even if he hits me, my body can take it... As long as I protect my head, he is nothing." Thinking this, Upper Rank Five grinned mockingly at Oboro up close.
When did the Demon Slayer Corps start producing fools like this?!
His explosive power was terrifying indeed.
He wasn't the weak invalid he appeared to be; he had transformed from a lamb into a tiger in an instant.
Or maybe he was just buying time, waiting for the others outside to help?
Oboro's attack felt even lighter than he expected. It looked imposing, but the touch on his forehead was like being bitten by a mosquito.
Even the demon was stunned.
"You..."
He was about to laugh at Oboro's useless attempt when suddenly, his pupils constricted.
His eyes rolled back, and his consciousness vanished.
"Don't be impatient... This move is for control, not damage."
Oboro whispered just before the demon's mind went blank.
Immediately after, Oboro spat out blood and collapsed to his hands and knees.
Demon physiology was special. Techniques like pressure points or meridian strikes were usually weakened... their bodies automatically regenerate and realign themselves. They could usually shake off such control in less than a second.
It was only effective because Oboro's stats were so low that the skill effect relied entirely on his soul's intimidation.
The feeling was similar to how demons feel in the presence of Muzan—their minds go blank, their bodies freeze, and they are paralyzed by fear.
And Oboro's soul pressure was far stronger than Muzan's.
The breathing effect ended. Blood trickled from Oboro's eyes, nose, and mouth. His vision blurred.
His legs were completely broken.
But such minor inconveniences meant nothing to him now.
Before the remaining monsters could approach, he crawled forward, picked up the cleaver that had fallen from the demon's hand, sliced open the skin of the demon's calf, and bit down hard.
The demon was in a state of total relaxation, completely defenseless.
Otherwise, ordinary weapons would barely scratch his skin.
Gulp. Gulp.
Oboro swallowed slowly.
There was no time to find anyone better. Upper Rank Five would have to do... The effect of his blood would certainly be far stronger than low-level demons.
Perhaps it was psychological, but the metallic, salty blood tasted sweet to him.
"He's in here!"
"There's someone inside!"
Suddenly, shouts came from outside.
The doors were smashed apart by a blade. Two figures burst in violently.
Their faces were filled with vigilance and rage.
But when the two Pillars saw the scene inside, they froze in shock.
They saw a man kneeling beside the demon's feet, seemingly... drinking its blood.
The sight was grotesque and unnatural. They could tell the man was human, not a demon. Yet the demon standing in the center was motionless like a statue, unconscious.
Swish!
One of them reacted instantly, swinging his blade to slice apart the remaining flesh monsters.
Then he reached out to grab the man, intending to pull him away to safety.
His priority was to save the civilian!
"Tenjuro!"
As Flame Pillar Rengoku Tenjuro reached down to pick up the man, a heavy voice came from his companion behind him.
"It's... Upper Rank."
Those simple words made Tenjuro jump back as if electrocuted, retreating to the doorway.
Only then did he see it clearly. On the massive body, the eyes were trembling, slowly regaining focus. Numbers appeared in the whites of the eyes.
Upper Rank Five!
It was actually... an Upper Rank!!
Tenjuro's mind reeled, unable to process what he was seeing.
They had come here never expecting to face an Upper Rank... let alone the Fifth!
Tenjuro snapped back to reality and tried to step forward again to save the man, but his friend held him back.
None of the current generation of Pillars had ever defeated an Upper Rank. Not even Lower Ranks were easy; many had died fighting them.
"His legs are broken, he's in bad shape, he can't move..."
Tenjuro looked at Water Pillar Kawai Ichiei. "We have to save him."
Compared to the passionate Flame Pillar, the Water Pillar, though young, was calm and composed. He analyzed the scene before him.
First, Upper Rank Five seemed... immobilized for some reason, but his consciousness was returning.
He was about to 'wake up', his eyes moving as if fighting against something.
Second, the man on the ground... what he was doing was bizarre.
And yet, he wasn't dead.
There were clear signs of a fierce battle having taken place just moments ago.
"He doesn't need our saving."
The Water Pillar said flatly.
There was a connection between this man and the Upper Rank.
Haaah...
At that moment, Oboro finally pulled away, exhaling a cloud of white mist.
He seemed completely unbothered by their sudden arrival.
Sensing the stares behind him, he pushed himself up with one arm and slowly turned his head... blood stained his lips, his eyes deep and dark.
To Tenjuro and Ichiei, his expression looked sinister and demonic.
"What a coincidence... you had to see me like this."
Oboro smiled calmly, seeing the complex looks in their eyes.
After drinking the Upper Rank's blood, his broken body felt as if molten iron had been poured into it. Even as he spoke, his appearance was already changing.
Veins bulged beneath his skin, muscles and tissue writhing and shifting. His senses expanded and distorted...
Muzan's cells were becoming incredibly active.
Not everyone could become a demon. Most died because they couldn't withstand the assimilation.
Transformation was a matter of chance.
Of course, for Oboro, it was effortless.
Because... the will contained within Muzan's genes had absolutely no hope of controlling him.
Tenjuro and Ichiei fell silent.
Seeing Oboro's words and his transformation, even if they were slow, they understood now. This was a path he had chosen for himself.
____________________
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