I, Kibutsuji Muzan, Does Not Want To Die (Patreon)

Chapter 9: Black

I created more demons—many, many more.

I sought out those with potential.

I turned bandits who crossed me into demons.

I saved dying humans by turning them into demons.

—And sometimes, I turned people simply because they were there.

And to every demon I created, I gave the same command: find the Blue Spider Lily.

With their growing numbers, I began to notice something—some demons possessed abilities akin to sorcery.

Each power was unique, varied like the colors of a kaleidoscope.

They used these abilities to aid in their search… and to devour humans.

I named these abilities Blood Demon Arts and ordered them to be honed.

What form the arts took depended on the demon itself, but perhaps… just maybe… one of them would develop a power that could turn demons back into humans.

—No, I was being too hopeful.

Something so convenient—so miraculous—could not exist.

"Tamayo… how is it?"

"Muzan-sama… I am sorry… I haven’t even found a clue…"

"I see… As I thought, we must find the Blue Spider Lily… Tamayo, if you need anything, say the word. I will see that you get it."

"In that case—!"

She turned to face me with sudden urgency, but when her eyes met mine, she froze.

Her face fell, clouded with sorrow.

"…No. Never mind."

With that, Tamayo returned to her research.

She had been about to say something—but in the end, she said nothing at all.

Tamayo always looked at me with that same sorrowful gaze.

I had changed.

I no longer hesitated to sacrifice humans.

I no longer cared about the lives I took.

And perhaps… Tamayo had given up on me long ago.

That was fine.

"Please, Tamayo… give Nakime a future filled with light…"

Just before stepping out of her lab, I made that desperate plea.

It did not matter what happened to me.

But Nakime… she must be saved.

She still slept, unaware of what had become of her.

I did not know how she would feel when she awoke.

And so, before that moment came—

She had to be saved.

"You're… a coward."

A quiet murmur reached my ears, and I turned to see Tamayo trembling.

Her small shoulders quivered.

But she did not look back at me.

. . . . . . . . . .

One night, despite the darkness, a demon perished.

"…What?"

There was no cry of agony. No final scream.

I did not understand why.

For now, I ordered the surrounding demons to stay alert and observe the situation.

Then, I learned the cause.

A human wielding a sword had beheaded the demon, reducing them to dust.

A demon slayer, perhaps.

How troublesome.

However, we demons do not normally die from something of that level.

—Whether or not a being that remains alive even after having its neck severed can truly be called a "living creature" is a question I'll leave aside for now.

In any case, just being cut by an ordinary sword shouldn’t kill us.

Yet, those demon slayers succeeded in killing demons in the dark of night...

When a demon would find a human in the darkness and attempt to attack, multiple humans, hidden until then, would ambush the demon.

They would sever the demon's arms and legs, and before it could regenerate, they would swiftly decapitate it.

—As infuriating as it is, it was an undeniably rational strategy.

A demon's strength far surpasses that of ordinary humans.

Moreover, some demons can even wield sorcery known as Blood Demon Arts.

The disparity is so great that it seems as though resistance from humans is entirely futile...

And yet... somehow, humans managed to defeat demons in their mortal flesh. Likely, the secret lies within their swords.

It's frustrating that this delays the search for the Blue Spider Lily, but I couldn't help but admire their efforts.

Considering their coordination, they are probably part of an organized group.

"I don't know who or where they are, but... well done."

I murmured words of praise for a group I had neither seen nor met.

At the time, however, I didn’t regard them as very significant.

I thought they would inevitably fade away with the passage of time, just like the ever-changing eras of this country.

—But, in the end, I was wrong.

Their determination... was carried on for hundreds of years.

Ah... how magnificent...

. . . . . . . . . .

"Muzan-sama— Nakime has woken up."

"What—? I’ll go there immediately!"

Tamayo, who I had entrusted with both her own research and the care of Nakime, had contacted me. I hurled aside the flame-haired man who had been attacking me.

The man was young, burning with purpose... likely a member of the demon slaying organization, carrying a peculiar sword designed to kill demons.

This man had slain many demons, filling me with both irritation and grudging admiration... Admiration for the fiery spirit that burned within him.

His passion was infused with a powerful resolve to protect innocent lives.

Moreover... the sword left in my hand, the one that man had wielded—its details intrigued me.

—And perhaps, a man as straightforward as him... might be capable of stopping demons who have gone astray.

"I won’t take your life. As compensation for sparing you, I’ll be taking this sword."

"Ugh... wait!"

The man tried to stop me, but his face contorted in pain, and he fell to his knees.

It was only natural. Several of his ribs were likely broken.

There was no way he could move properly with that level of pain... and yet, I was certain that this man would still manage to push himself.

If that happened, letting him live would be meaningless.

Before he could recklessly act further, I quickly departed the scene.

. . . . . . . . . .

"To think, to think... that I would be spared by a demon...! How shameful!

I can’t even show my face to everyone! If there were a hole, I’d crawl into it!

But that demon... no, first, I must report to Ubuyashiki-sama! That takes pri—owww—!"

. . . . . . . . . .

When Nakime awoke, outwardly, she seemed the same as before.

Her hair had already regenerated, now a beautiful black that covered most of her face.

There didn’t appear to be any visible scars on her body, either.

"Nakime... I am sorry."

"...? Why are you apologizing, Muzan-sama?"

"No, I caused you pain..."

"Not at all. It was my fault for revealing myself.

There is no reason whatsoever for Muzan-sama to apologize."

Nakime smiled gently.

Ah... how pitiful of me, to be the one being comforted.

A glimpse of Nakime’s legs revealed that, though the wounds were healed, they were grotesquely misshapen...

She didn’t seem capable of walking properly.

"If it’s about my legs, please don’t worry."

Even so, Nakime’s steadfast smile only deepened my torment.

"Could you... fetch my biwa for me?"

"Ah... yes."

The biwa she had been holding tightly even in that place.

I thought all the strings had been broken... but it seemed Tamayo or someone else had replaced them. It now appeared in pristine condition.

When I handed it to her, she lightly plucked the strings with her fingers, making small adjustments.

I silently watched Nakime as she meticulously tuned the instrument.

Finally, her hands stopped, and the biwa began to play a magnificent melody.

Though I was no expert in music, the flawless sound captivated me immediately.

And then, suddenly, beside me, a sliding door appeared in midair.

"...What?"

With a creak, the door slid open. On the other side, Tamayo, apparently just as surprised by its sudden appearance, stared at us with wide eyes.

"Huh...? What? Weren’t you two in the other room...?"

Looking at the door that should have led to the room we were currently in, and then back at us, she blinked repeatedly in confusion.

—It connects spaces, does it?

This is Nakime’s Blood Demon Art... what an incredibly powerful ability.

—But more importantly,

"Tamayo, come over here. Let’s enjoy Nakime’s performance together."

Leaning out from the mysterious door, I extended a hand to her.

Though Tamayo was visibly bewildered, her ears caught the biwa’s melody, and her expression softened as she closed her eyes to listen.

“What a beautiful melody...”

As Tamayo began to lose herself in the music, I firmly took her hand and gently pulled her to sit beside me.

I too turned my attention fully to Nakime’s biwa performance.

The sound was beautiful, graceful... yet somehow tinged with sadness.

What resonated through the melody was her feelings for her late benefactor.

A song of gratitude from Nakime to Yugetsu, the man who had desperately tried to save her.

A requiem, wishing for nothing more than his peaceful rest.

“What a beautiful melody... simply wonderful. You’ve improved, Nakime...”

I offered genuine praise to Nakime, straight from the heart.

Everything about it was beautiful.

The music, the melody, and Nakime’s emotions... even the late Yugetsu, whose presence seemed to linger here, and Tamayo, who silently listened beside me without saying a word.

I... am blessed. I live surrounded by such beauty.

Nakime, her face blooming with a radiant smile, continued her performance.

This private concert, a gift from Nakime to the three of us, lasted late into the night.

I made a firm decision—to turn Nakime back into a human.

Listening to her performance had only strengthened my resolve.

Driven by this thought, I had personally begun searching for the Blue Spider Lily.

Thanks to Nakime’s Blood Demon Art, I could now instantly move to various locations, allowing me to expand the search even to the most remote and tranquil places.

Calling out to Tamayo and Nakime, I stepped through the sliding door and arrived at today’s search destination.

“Have a safe journey, Muzan-sama,” they said in unison.

As their voices overlapped, the door behind me slammed shut and quietly dissolved into the air.

“...I’m off,” I muttered softly, knowing my words wouldn’t reach them.

And then, I left the area.

Though Nakime waking up was a joyous development, there had been no real progress in our current situation.

Those I had turned into demons seemed to revel in their newfound power, indulging in consuming humans and creating more demons.

While they made some pretense of searching for the Blue Spider Lily as I had ordered, the only method available was a painstaking, exhaustive search, and thus the progress was agonizingly slow.

Meanwhile, the demon-slaying organization... They continued to successfully kill demons.

I had entrusted Tamayo with analyzing the sword I had acquired the other day.

We had already determined that it was made of some special type of metal.

Their tactics made full use of the group’s strength and coordination, turning each battle into a true hunt.

We demons possess immense physical strength and the unique advantage of our Blood Demon Arts.

Because of this, in the first encounter, we often manage to turn the tables on our opponents.

However, if they survive that encounter or if someone observes the battle, our advantage quickly crumbles.

By repeating these battles two, three times in groups, they systematically hunt us down, killing one demon at a time with certainty.

It is so human... wonderfully, infuriatingly human.

The death of those of my kin to whom I have shared my blood is always conveyed to me.

The pain, the fear, the despair... all of it.

Death is painful, sorrowful... its terror is beyond description.

And yet, I take pride in those kin who struggle until their very last moments.

That is why... to honor their sacrifices... I must find the Blue Spider Lily at all costs.

. . . . . . . . . .

As I endured the pain and walked through the dark night, it happened.

"Hey there, mister."

A soft light illuminated my face.

Looking toward the source of the light, I saw the simple figure of a woman emerging from the darkness.

“The sun has already set,” said the woman—no, perhaps she was young enough to be called a girl—with a warm, gentle smile. Holding up her light, she extended her hand to me.

“It’s dangerous to walk on the roads at night. There’s a house nearby. You should stay over.”

“I... no, I...”

Before I could even let suspicion show on my face, confusion overwhelmed me.

A lone woman approaching a man wandering through the dark night, no less inviting him to stay at her home?

Does this woman not realize the danger she could be putting herself in...?

“Don’t worry about it, no need to be shy! You should also have dinner while you’re here!”

Before I could protest further, the woman grabbed my hand and began pulling me insistently.

Her jet-black eyes, gleaming like obsidian in the lamplight, stared straight into mine.

What a stubborn girl... Yet, she was clearly fragile. If I resisted, I might end up hurting her.

—Fine. I’ll give up on tonight’s search.

I let out a quiet sigh, a small, resigned smile forming on my lips as I allowed myself to be led to the nearby shabby house.

“I’m back, Yoriichi! This man was wandering around at night without even carrying a light. I thought I’d feed him.”

Then, turning back toward me, she continued.

“By the way, what did you say your name was again?”

“...I am Muzan.”

"Ah, Muzan-dono, is it? Well, make yourself comfortable wherever you like!"

With that, the woman spoke cheerfully, still wearing her bright smile, as she turned her back to me.

Inside the house stood a single man, quietly composed.

The man, distinguished by the flame-like mark on his forehead, gazed at me with calm, serene eyes.

—What an extraordinary presence this man had.

"—Pleased to meet you. I am Yoriichi. That woman is my wife, Uta.

Muzan-dono, it’s a small house, but please, make yourself at home."

And so, this was how I first met Yoriichi and Uta, a husband and wife.

. . . . . . . . . .

From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I knew he wasn’t human.

From the moment I first saw him, I sensed the burdens he carried.

From the moment I first encountered him…

I believed I was born to defeat him.

But the way he followed Uta with a wry smile, the way he carefully matched her pace, was unmistakably human.

The man who introduced himself as Muzan seemed far more human than I could ever hope to be.

Even at a glance, it was clear he was severely exhausted.

Uta, kind as she was, likely couldn’t bring herself to abandon him in such a state.

I didn’t know what had happened to him, nor could I guess.

But it was evident that, despite his own lack of strength, he was mindful of us.

Though it was clear he had no room to think about others, Muzan still showed care and consideration.

I thought he must be a kind man.

I will never forget the sight of him gratefully accepting the plain porridge Uta offered, smiling softly as he thanked her.

I will never forget the single tear that rolled down his cheek as he tasted her simple meal.

That was my first encounter with Kibutsuji Muzan, the leader of the demons.

It was also the first time my wife and I met a friend—our first friend—Muzan.