Tamayo still couldn’t believe what she had witnessed.
First, three months ago, Mr. Hiru had suddenly shown up with Mr. Yoriichi, claiming he had conquered sunlight. He asked her to create a drug that could kill him before Mr. Yoriichi’s death. But after testing several potions, none had any effect. To her horror, Mr. Hiru even used one of them as a seasoning and ate it happily.
Then, two and a half months ago, Mr. Yoriichi visited her out of the blue for a private conversation. The following day, he handed her a small vial of Mr. Hiru’s blood—fully demonized—and then abruptly departed.
A month ago, Mr. Hiru noticed Yoriichi had yet to return and released an overwhelming wave of demonic energy. It was terrifying. Yet, after Tamayo risked her life to persuade him, he chose instead to fall into a deep sleep, waiting for Yoriichi’s return.
And then, the most shocking event of all—five days ago, Mr. Yoriichi ca back... as a demon.
As. A. Demon.
Tamayo was convinced she must be dreaming and promptly fainted on the spot.
However, thanks to her demonic constitution, she regained consciousness soon after.
When she opened her eyes, the white-haired swordsman was there, looking at her with quiet concern. Tamayo instinctively refused to face reality. She pretended not to know anything and started muttering prayers to the gods, feigning composure.
That fragile calm didn’t last long.
Now, as she sat before them—before two demons—Tamayo stared blankly, her mind reeling. For the first ti in centuries, she almost felt sympathy for Muzan Kibutsuji.
【Look at this, Muzan. What you chased for hundreds of years, they achieved effortlessly. Envious? Jealous? Furious? You should be!】
—Well, perhaps there was far more schadenfreude than sympathy in that thought.
Tamayo exhaled slowly several tis before finally facing the brothers again. “Mr. Yoriichi, Mr. Hiru... I’m afraid my abilities are insufficient to create a drug capable of killing either of you. Even just sitting here in front of you both, I can already feel an indescribable pressure—and that’s with you both suppressing your power.”
“Then just work on the human transformation drug instead,” Hiru said, slouching lazily in his seat. “Since my brother and I can walk in sunlight now anyway, we’ll wait until Muzan Kibutsuji lets his guard down, then we’ll strike him down. After that, we’ll turn back into humans and start a new life. Perfect plan, right?”
“Hiru-sensei, it’s not that I’m unwilling to help,” Tamayo sighed wearily, “but at present, I can’t even handle your blood. Unlike Mr. Yoriichi, who took an entire month to complete his transformation, I nearly lost myself to assimilation after a single drop of your fully demonized blood touched . I simply don’t possess that kind of strength.
Before I beca a demon, I was just a terminally ill physician—my body and spirit were never particularly strong. And after discovering that I had devoured my own husband and son, I grew utterly repulsed by the act of consuming humans. Other than being forced to by Muzan Kibutsuji, I’ve almost never fed on blood.
After Mr. Yoriichi gravely wounded Muzan, leaving him weak, I dedicated myself to purging every trace of his blood from my body to escape his control. In terms of sheer combat ability, I may actually be weaker than a newly turned demon.”
“Then let’s leave that aside for now,” Yoriichi said. “There are so details about becoming a demon I’d like to ask about.”
Tamayo sighed again, resigned. “Please go ahead, Mr. Yoriichi.”
“I rember you said that any human exposed to demon blood transforms almost instantly,” Yoriichi began, sitting upright, his tone calm yet puzzled. “So why did it take an entire month to turn? And after the transformation, I felt no discomfort whatsoever. On the contrary... I feel like I’ve adapted more easily to this body than before.”
“The transformation process has limits,” Tamayo explained. “To put it another way—demons can only quickly assimilate those who are weaker than themselves.
Mr. Yoriichi, you were already an extraordinarily strong swordsman. So when you beca a demon, your body likely rejuvenated to its peak condition, which explains the sense of ease. Honestly, if you hadn’t willingly accepted Mr. Hiru’s blood, I doubt he could have turned you at all.
Even now, I suspect Mr. Hiru cannot read your mories, correct?”
Hiru blinked. “Read mories? What are you talking about?”
“Ordinarily, a Primordial Demon should have complete control over the demons they create,” Tamayo said, frowning in distaste. “Muzan Kibutsuji controlled that way. That control was absolute—I couldn’t even take my own life under it.”
Hiru turned to Yoriichi, confused, trying to sense any connection—but only t his brother’s equally puzzled expression. He spread his hands helplessly. “I can’t sense a thing. Honestly, if I weren’t looking at him right now, I wouldn’t even know he was here.”
Tamayo nodded slightly. “Exactly. Because Mr. Hiru is far weaker than Mr. Yoriichi, he can’t dominate him the way Muzan controlled his subordinates.”
“Well, of course!” Hiru said proudly. “My brother’s the strongest swordsman alive, after all!” But then his expression turned thoughtful. “Miss Tamayo, demons can be hard by Nichirin Blades because they’re infused with the power of the sun, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Hiru glanced at Yoriichi. “Then my brother’s Crimson Blade—its power cos from mimicking the sun’s light too, doesn’t it?”
Yoriichi nodded.
“Then how co,” Hiru continued, brow furrowing, “even though I’ve overco sunlight, I still feel burned whenever I touch my brother’s Crimson Blade? I can tell that if he ever actually cut with it, I’d be injured—and if the wound were deep enough, I might even die.”
Tamayo’s gaze softened into sothing complex as she sighed quietly. “You may have overco sunlight, but you have not overco the sun itself.”
Hiru paused. “...That actually makes sense.”
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