Demon Progenitor Development Project

It was late summer or early autumn when Muzan arrived at his new home. His face was flushed, and he huddled listlessly in his blankets, feeling weak all over and dizzy.

Lying flat on his back in his bedding, feeling the intense heat coursing through his body, Muzan stared at the ceiling, his gaze fixed on the different wood grain patterns on the beams, repeatedly recalling the joyful memories of that day they played together.

When are you coming?

I promised to play with him.

They clearly said we could meet them here.

I want candy, I want to play games.

Don't get sick.

delirious with fever, Muzan hid under the covers, tossing and turning in agony.

Muzan turned his body to look at the servants walking around. His vision was dim. It was daytime, and the light was just right. There were no candles lit in the bedchamber. Muzan lay in the shadows that gave people a sense of lethargy. The light and shadow seemed to be a dividing line, separating the two kinds of people.

Whispers reached my ears through the sound of the wind.

The noise around me gradually quieted down.

"This young master fell ill as soon as he arrived." The voice was full of complaints.

[You really cause trouble for others]

"I've heard that the young master is in poor health, and he's actually this weak." His tone was full of worry and frustration.

I thought it would be a good place, but if I die there, wouldn't all my efforts have been wasted?

The little child blinked, not understanding, and pulled his head back under the covers.

Block out all sounds.

I am bored.

I feel so lonely.

Adults are all liars.

Being sick is so uncomfortable.

Why me? Not anyone else.

The young children, whose minds have not yet been distorted, let out cries of resentment from within.

The boy, who was in a daze, had been asleep for an unknown amount of time.

It wasn't until a warm hand touched her forehead that she was startled awake.

"Ning Ning."

Shugo called softly as he finished his work.

Muzan let out a heavy nasal sound, hiding under the covers and refusing to come out. After a while, a curse came from under the covers.

"big liar."

Shugo Fujiwara: ? ? ?

When did I lie to you?

"I just finished work and came to see you. I'm so tired after organizing documents all day."

"The people I work with are all slow-paced. It's because they're so slow that I came back late."

After shifting the blame onto his colleague, Shugo coaxed him softly.

"Here, I brought you something delicious."

The small hill twitched slightly.

The child, wearing only a white undershirt, slowly crawled out.

She plopped down in the blanket, her eyes red as if she had been crying.

I touched the child's forehead; the temperature had gone down.

Shugo breathed a sigh of relief. It would be ridiculous if the original character hadn't died, but instead had been raised to death by him.

It was dusk, the perfect time for dinner.

Several adorable kitten-shaped steamed buns were placed on a white porcelain plate.

The child just stared at the food without moving, and seemed unusually depressed.

It's like a hedgehog raising its quills to defend itself against enemies.

Shugo gained a new understanding of mood swings—he was so happy to play with him last time, but this time he was so resistant to him.

"Although I don't know where I lied to you, at least let me know what mistake I made."

Shugo was practically ready to surrender.

The child, dressed in a cherry blossom pink kimono, rattled off her accusations, speaking so fast that she couldn't stop coughing.

Shugo imitated how he patted the child's back in the TV drama.

The coughing gradually subsided, and only then did Shugo speak.

"First of all, it's not that I'm lying to you; I never promised you any of those things."

Honestly, the child's accusations are completely unreasonable.

However, being unreasonable is a child's privilege, not his. He's not going to take the blame for other people's perfunctory remarks.

"Secondly, if you want me to play with you, you'll have to ask for it yourself. You can't get up to play right now, can you?"

He held the child in his arms and rubbed him like a cat, completely ignoring the child's wide-eyed astonishment.

Hiiragi felt elated; who could possibly get their hands on the progenitor of demons in his juvenile form?

Realizing what was happening, Muzan reached out his small hand and pushed against Shugo's chest.

I won't let you hug me!

Bad guy!

big liar!

The touch on his face was fleeting, leaving Muzan stunned.

Shugo kissed the cute doll in his arms and got a silly-looking Muzan in return.

Looking at the other person's smiling face, Muzan felt a mix of indescribable emotions churning inside him. Even though he had been kissed before, Muzan was still not used to it. This was the first time he had been so close to someone else. Even his father had never hugged him, let alone kissed him.

He likes me more than anyone I've ever met.

Sensing the intense affection, Muzan secretly looked up at the other person, and all the thorns that had sprung up on his body softened, no longer resisting them.

Shugo likes Muzan Kibutsuji's face, but he also knows how tiring it would be to get along with the progenitor of demons.

A young child without the violent personality of the progenitor of future demons can naturally express affection.

People are afraid of fierce tigers, but not of tiger cubs that look like kittens.

This is the same principle.

However, in Ren Guang's eyes, this level of intimacy was simply too much in today's world. Ren Guang's lips twitched as he watched the whole thing.

In ordinary aristocratic families, a few words of concern and care for their children on a daily basis is already considered quite attentive. The expression of emotions in East Asian culture has always been reserved, so such hugging and embracing is hardly proper.

If word got out, there would surely be gossip. Ren Guang, who stood aside with his eyes straight ahead, was glad that he had driven the other servants out.

After petting the child's fur for a while, Shugo coaxed the child into eating obediently.

Muzan slowly picked up an orange cat bun, took a bite, his eyes lit up, and his baby teeth unconsciously increased the speed at which he crushed the bun.

The bun skin is quite soft, dyed with persimmon juice, and its shape is also adorable.

Delicious and beautiful.

This was the result of his efforts over the past few years. Looking at the picture of the Demon King eating a steamed bun, Shugo couldn't help but feel proud.

In Heian-kyo, he could tolerate skipping a meal, since he used to sleep in and skip breakfast anyway, but he couldn't stand eating poorly.

Shugo forcefully directed the chef to try making all sorts of delicious food, greatly enriching the recipes and providing a feast for the people around him.

Fujiwara no Kita genie, his mouth greasy from eating: (chewing) What kind of garbage did we eat before? The meat ban? To hell with it!

After finishing his meal, Shugo inquired about Muzan's current educational progress.

Countless people complain that the boss is brainless, a beautiful but clueless idiot who has failed to rule such a small island nation for a thousand years.

Shugo got the answer, but hasn't started yet.

Speechless and choked.

Three years old is the age when ordinary nobles begin their education, while some are forced to start as early as two and a half.

That's how the original owner was.

Muzan is now three years old.

Hiiragi sighed.

We need to arrange a course for the progenitor of demons.

Seeing Muzan enjoying his meal, Shugo secretly made up his mind.

Even if you're a ghost, you should study hard and improve every day. I'll arrange a good course for you and engrave the four words "gratitude" into your mind.

Shugo looked at Muzan with an incredibly loving smile.

Muzan sneezed. Huh! Is he still not better? Why do I feel a little cold?