After arranging the plan to destroy the Swordsmith Village, Muzan's gaze turned to the other side.
"Doma."
"I'm here, does Muzan-sama have any instructions?" Doma waved his fan and looked up with a smile.
"Go and find out the background of that boy with the hanafuda earrings who has been active in the Demon Slayer Corps recently, and that black-haired swordsman who uses lightning."
In Muzan's mind, the young man in the black haori from Akaza's memory appeared. Although in his view, that was just a slightly faster mouse, since he could coordinate with the Flame Hashira to force back Akaza, it meant he was a potential trouble.
"Find them, then kill them. Bring their heads back to me."
Doma closed his golden fan, tapped it against his lips, and a glimmer of interest flashed in his eyes.
"A swordsman who uses lightning? Sounds like the meat would be quite tingly and delicious. No problem, Muzan-sama, I will personally chop him up and offer him to you."
Akaza, standing to the side, clenched his fists again upon hearing this.
That human was clearly his prey, he had sworn to crush him with Destructive Death when they met next time to wash away his shame.
But he dared not disobey Muzan's orders, so he could only suppress this killing intent deep in his heart.
Finally, Muzan looked at Kokushibo, who was standing at the highest point. "Kokushibo, you continue to search for the whereabouts of the blue spider lily. If you encounter any Hashira who have activated the Demon Slayer Mark, do not hold back."
Kokushibo lowered his head slightly, his six eyes devoid of ripples. "I will obey your command."
Everything was arranged properly.
Muzan turned around and walked away with long strides.
"A boring organization like the Demon Slayer Corps has been lingering on its last breath for long enough. This time, I will completely erase them from this world."
Ting—
Nakime plucked the biwa again.
The figures of the Upper Ranks gradually faded in the twisting space, each being teleported to various corners of the outside world.
The Infinity Castle returned to deathly silence once again.
Muzan walked along the corridor alone, his face gloomy.
As long as the Swordsmith Village was destroyed, the Demon Slayer Corps' weapon supply would be cut off. Then, by sending a combat force of Doma's level to hunt down the elite ones who stood out, even if the Demon Slayer Corps had the Demon Slayer Mark, it would be of no avail.
Human bodies had limits, while the Upper Ranks under his command were killing machines that would not tire.
"Just wait, Ubuyashiki... your ridiculous family will soon be extinct."
—
If the atmosphere in the Infinity Castle was an abyss so oppressive it made people suffocate, then the Butterfly Mansion in the early morning was a disaster site full of the hustle and bustle of daily life.
"It's gone! It's all gone again! Over 100 kilograms of rice were delivered just yesterday, why isn't there even a bottom layer left this morning?"
In the kitchen, Aoi was wearing an apron, holding a rice scoop bigger than her own head, and let out a desperate roar.
Three young nurses were hiding behind the doorframe, trembling.
On the long veranda of the courtyard, the culprit was sitting cross-legged in front of a low table, holding a bowl of white rice piled up like a small mountain, and picking up a piece of golden, crispy tempura.
Since acquiring the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, Yamada's Chakra levels had undergone a qualitative leap, but this had also caused his basal metabolic rate to reach an absurd level.
Just as that piece of tempura was about to be put into his mouth, a gust of wind struck from the side.
"Pig Assault! That fried shrimp is mine!"
Inosuke, wearing his boar mask, leaped down from the roof, holding a strainer he had found somewhere, tracing a tricky arc in mid-air, heading straight for the tempura on Yamada's chopsticks.
After several days of hellish special training, Inosuke's speed had increased significantly.
However, Yamada didn't even look at him. The wrist holding the chopsticks just casually drew a semicircle in mid-air.
Thwack!
The two bamboo chopsticks tapped onto the strainer. An irresistible force of leverage was transmitted through the strainer. Inosuke felt his hands go numb, lost his balance in mid-air, and went straight over Yamada's head, landing in the courtyard's koi pond, causing water to splash everywhere.
"It's early in the morning, stop trying to steal other people's breakfast. If you want to eat, go ask the kitchen yourself."
Yamada blew on the tempura, took a bite, and made a crisp crunching sound.
"That's too much! You're simply not human!"
Zenitsu, sitting at the other end of the veranda, bit into the rice ball in his hand, pointing at Yamada with teary eyes in accusation.
"Why do you eat more than a pig, yet you don't gain any weight? And every day you just sit here drinking tea and basking in the sun. Not only can you beat us to a pulp with a wave of your hand, but you also have beauties like Shinobu-san giving you special meals. This world is too unfair. May divine punishment strike down this winner in life."
"Zenitsu, don't say that about Yamada-san. He must be training in a way we don't understand."
Tanjiro had dark circles under his eyes and was still stuffing half a steamed bun into his mouth.
His current state was very strange. Even when eating and talking, his chest was rising and falling at a specific frequency, obviously having engraved "Total Concentration: Constant" into his bones.
Yamada swallowed the last mouthful of rice and put down his bowl and chopsticks.
He looked at Inosuke, who was struggling with the koi in the pond, then looked at the complaining Zenitsu, clapped his hands, and stood up.
"Since you're full and have nothing to do, let's do some post-meal digestion exercise."
Hearing this, the expression on Zenitsu's face froze instantly, and he didn't even notice the rice ball in his hand fall to the ground.
"Bo... Boss, the digestion exercise you're talking about, it couldn't be..."
Yamada walked over to the pine tree in the center of the courtyard, which was thick enough for three people to hug.
He put one hand in his pocket, looked up at the canopy more than ten meters high, and said in a flat tone, "As a swordsman, if you can't even utilize terrain perfectly, what will you do if you encounter a demon that can fly or climb walls? Just stare blankly from below?"
"But how could a person..."