Demon Slayer: Upper 0 seems to be a waste

Infinite city.

This is a territory that Rinko should already be very familiar with.

So vast, just like its name suggests, it is a city without boundaries or limits, a city that seems to have no end.

It's easy to lose your way here. The ever-expanding boundaries, the chaotic gravity, the seemingly similar buildings—it's like walking into a labyrinth of death. Behind every turn, behind every door you open, lies a ghost.

In Rinko's memory, this place was always very quiet. It wasn't that there was no sound at all, but the place was just too big, and the sound was always swallowed up by the boundless space. Even if it managed to travel far away, only the faintest sound remained.

Just like now, it's not quiet here; ghost hunters are everywhere, and ghosts are everywhere, but here, at this very moment, it's so quiet that not a single clear sound can be heard.

How many people will die tonight? This isn't something Rinko is curious about. After all, people always die, whether today or tomorrow, they'll die soon enough. With so many people, it's not a big deal if some die. Besides, the Demon Slayer Corps lives to kill demons. Even if they don't die tonight, they'll die on some other night, at the hands of some unknown demon. Leaving them alive is leaving behind a source of trouble, leaving behind danger.

These members of the Demon Slayer Corps all want to kill Muzan; they can't let him live. It didn't matter before, but things are different now.

Therefore, Rinko doesn't care how many of them die.

He was thinking about something else.

Muzan's orders were simple and clear: he wasn't told to leave, to go support anyone, or to find anyone. Instead, he was told to wait here until a demon swordsman found this place, and whoever came, he would kill.

There's no point in supporting demons who are already dead, and demons who are still alive don't need support. If they're dead, it means they're not capable enough. Only Muzan is the most important person; that's the order he received.

So who died?

Lin Guang thought.

Another question that arises is: who survived?

Muzan didn't have time to give him an accurate list, so he guessed it himself.

Nakime is still alive, otherwise the Infinity Castle wouldn't have been able to continue. Kokushibo probably won't die, because he's very powerful. Akaza probably won't die either, because he's also very powerful and has strong techniques. Although we wouldn't have much of an advantage against him, we probably won't die either.

Will Doma die? Doma is incredibly powerful, without a doubt. Even Akaza wouldn't have much of an advantage against Doma. But Rinko doesn't particularly like Doma; she doesn't hate him, but she doesn't like him. Because Doma always breaks his bones, always hurts him, and threatens to eat him. She doesn't like Doma.

Doma is very strong, stronger than Kaigaku, but Rinko likes Kaigaku. Kaigaku is like a stray cat he's seen before, standing there watching him, taking a long time before reaching out to pet him. Kaigaku will hiss and bare his teeth, but his claws won't land on his wrist, and his teeth won't come out either. His fur will stand on end, but he'll still allow him to pet him. Kaigaku will also lend him his Nichirin Blade to play with, the Nichirin Blade of a demon swordsman.

But someone has to die eventually. If she had a choice, Rin would prefer that it was Doma who died.

This sounds unfair, unfair to Doma.

But this world is inherently unfair.

There are too many unfair things.

Gyutaro and Daki were dying in the red-light district. One was stabbed and slashed, bleeding profusely, while the other was burned beyond recognition. Is this fair?

Sakonji spent so much time cultivating Makomo, and after one trial, that girl will never come back. Is that fair?

One farewell, then a return—and Muichiro lost his brother. Is that fair?

There is no such thing as fairness in this world.

Just like now, as he sits here, belatedly realizing that he has just walked a circle on the edge of death, crawled back, and found his way back, but too many people have failed to crawl back from that line.

Is this fair?

He knew it wasn't fair; he only secretly hoped that those things he cherished more could be preserved.

But Rinko is also very clear that in his life so far, there have been more unpleasant times than pleasant ones, and fate has always liked to play tricks on him more often.

He used to trust Tamayo so much, almost second only to Muzan, but Tamayo ultimately turned against him, drifting further and further away, until now, when she finally decided to kill them. She believed it was the best choice. Rinko can't say death is a bad choice, but Muzan didn't want to die, so the decision became terrible.

At this moment, he sits here, taking a deep breath.

The surroundings remained quiet, with some faint, sporadic noises drifting from afar, indicating that someone was approaching, rushing over from a distance.

He thought, "Fate is always playing tricks on me."

He experienced so much, but also forgot so much; he lost too many precious memories.

Will you forgive him if you're tired?

Will he forgive him for forgetting him?

Will she be angry because he lost the wood carving?

Will Lei be angry because he left that night? If he were here, would everything be different? Would Lei have survived?

What about Daki? What about Gyutaro? Would they be angry? Would they forgive his mistakes? Would they forgive his foolishness, his naiveté, for finding the gyakko but failing to save them? If he had been more capable, stronger, and realized sooner that the world wasn't what he had always believed, if he had awakened earlier, wouldn't everything have been different?

Ultimately, if he had realized earlier that Nezuko was different from other demons, that she was unique, would everything have been different? Why didn't he realize it sooner?

They must have met before, back when the other was still human, so why didn't he notice anything amiss?

Is regaining memories a good thing? Is forgetting them a good thing? Would life be easier if I didn't remember any of it? But is forgetting everything really a good thing? Would it be good if I couldn't remember anything at all? Like before, seeing everything and feeling only familiarity, but remembering nothing at all, is that a good thing?

When there's still time, you forget everything; when you have the ability to make changes, you fail to recognize what you truly care about.

Is forgetting something good? It doesn't sound like it.

But is remembering something a good thing? All this pressure just weighs on us, and these questions that will never be answered are etched in our minds, pondered, and raised countless times, but they will never have a real answer.

Because these ghosts are already dead, all of them are dead.

Dead ghosts cannot provide answers.

Rinko felt that his life seemed to be full of missed opportunities. The memories he had lost made him miss out on too much. Yes, he was still moving forward. After losing the lessons of the past and the guidance of those memories, he stubbornly continued to move forward, gradually going further and further down the wrong path.

As a result, he missed some opportunities. He encountered the wrong people and the wrong things at the wrong time and in the wrong place, ultimately making a series of wrong decisions and getting these results, which did not satisfy him or make him happy.

It made everything turn out the worst possible way.

Forgetting means he'll keep making mistakes, but remembering means all of this will weigh on his shoulders.

Rinko couldn't figure out what exactly constituted "good." What was the definition of "good"? What did "good" mean to him, and what did it mean to others?

How is "good" defined?

Who can provide all the answers to his question?

"Clap."

The silence was broken by a sound, the first one, then a second, heavy footsteps, from far to near, one, then a second, someone was approaching, sporadic, the sound of wings was faint, someone was approaching, the crow was leading the way.

"somebody is coming."

He spoke softly, almost to himself.

"Kill them."

That's Muzan's voice.

The man saw, through his eyes, the shadows approaching from afar. A clear command.

"As ordered."

Rinko stood up from the ground and looked toward the source of the sound. As she got closer, the shadow gradually became clearer.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief. The structure of the Infinite City was complex, so he didn't need to deliberately hide anywhere. A window opened and closed again. As the crow's voice drew near and began to call, a shadow flashed by. The crow fell to the floor, leaving only a fleeting shadow.

Humans approached too late; before anyone could utter a sound, a shadow slashed past from beyond their sight. Before they could see clearly, their vision was plunged into darkness, their heads split open, their chests pierced, and blood splattered everywhere.

Rinko stood on the bloodstains, stepping over the pile of corpses on the ground.

Is it fair that a group of people are chasing after Muzan?

So, for humans, for these ordinary swordsmen, is it fair to face an Upper Moon?

Rinko raised her head, and footsteps echoed in the distance. The crow was dead, and the swordsman was dead, but this seemed to be a signal that more people were approaching.

This time, Muzan didn't need to emphasize it again. Rin knew what he should do and what he should do: kill anyone who got close and deal with all the threats before Muzan recovered.

The world is unfair, for everyone.

But what does fairness mean to him?

Something has to die.

to him.

He would rather the other being besides Muzan died.