Demon Progenitor Development Project

Ren Guang's heart sank. After analyzing the situation, he felt even more desperate.

So, does this mean the young master can only be with that scoundrel Yueyan?

It's impossible to expect Muzan to supply blood every day while the young master is distancing himself from him!

Having worked for Muzan for many years, Jin Guang knew Muzan's character all too well.

Bullying the weak and fearing the strong, cowardly as a mouse, greedy and arrogant...

Selflessness? Exploiting others is the norm.

Upon reaching this conclusion, Ren Guang was filled with immense grief and indignation.

Waaaaah! He's such a fine young master, it's so tragic that he's paired with that scoundrel Yueyan!

Ren Guang swallowed the blood that was gushing out of his throat like a water pump once again.

He's not unworthy at all; he and Shuuga are the perfect match!

Muzan thought to himself with a sense of unease.

Hiiragi looked at Jinko, who had paused in his speech, with suspicion, feeling that something was off about this ghost.

Despite his frustration, Renguang recounted the changes in power and the list of assets in recent years, emphasizing that these were Shugo's assets.

Hiiragi looked at Jinko with a completely bewildered expression.

So, I—no, the original owner of this body—was this rich? Did they own a mine?!

Shugo was initially worried about whether he was living off a woman.

Now there's no need to worry.

This meeting turned into a property inventory meeting.

Shugo spent a long time taking over the businesses and intelligence network left behind by the original owner.

This is how we came into contact with outside intelligence.

Previously, his wife had been clinging to him, preventing Shugo from leaving the house.

The outside world is currently rife with conflict and turmoil, making it extremely unsafe.

Shugo decided to stay home for the time being and focus on mastering the Blood Demon Art his wife had mentioned.

As soon as Ren Guang finished reporting the matter, his wife kicked him out of the house, her face clearly showing that she couldn't wait to get rid of him from their world together.

His wife then threw herself into his arms and kissed him sweetly.

Having such a clingy and jealous wife, Shugo is experiencing both pain and joy.

His wife even said righteously that it was to help him awaken the Blood Demon Art as soon as possible.

When a beautiful woman throws herself into your arms, Shugo is completely unable to resist. He becomes so infatuated with her beauty that he cannot extricate himself.

*

Shugo and Muzan had cultivated a good relationship for many years, and he finally felt bored staying at home and wanted to go out for a stroll.

To his surprise, his wife agreed.

Muzan was indeed bored and wanted to go out for a walk.

Since he hasn't yet obtained Nakime, the secretary who controls the Infinity Castle, Muzan has built his home deep in the mountains to prevent human disturbance.

But somehow, a village appeared at the foot of the mountain.

Shugo looked at the small village with some surprise and great interest.

"There's a small village here!"

"Shall we go take a look?"

Muzan squinted at the small village. This village didn't exist before, and the demons who often went out to buy supplies hadn't reported it to him.

They really need to be taught a lesson!

The Ghost King sneered inwardly, and although he disagreed, he still agreed.

The Ghost King's procession was naturally quite grand.

The whip cracked, making a clattering sound, and several horse-drawn carriages, kicking up clouds of dust, arrived at the village entrance.

A middle-aged man with a tense face emerged from a house at the village entrance. He walked with a limp, and his face was cracked like ravines, rough and unbearable like the bark of an old tree that had weathered many years.

The man heard the sound of horses' hooves.

He recognized the voice; it was so familiar that it sent shivers down his spine.

Horses are very valuable resources.

Commoners like him could only meet those noble warriors and aristocratic gentlemen.

In the past, samurai lords on horseback came to their village to collect taxes. Even though they resisted desperately, all their grain was taken away. He was beaten and his leg was broken. That year, his elderly parents starved to death, as did his two older brothers. In the end, only he survived.

Have those nobles found this place again?

Moreover, the lame middle-aged man glanced at the sky where the moon hung high in the air.

Why would a nobleman come to this remote mountain forest in the middle of the night?

The middle-aged man looked at the convoy with extreme worry and a hint of hatred, then revealed a humble and obsequious smile as he stepped forward to welcome the outsiders.

Two noblemen, a young man and a woman dressed in fine silks and satins, stepped out of the carriage. They appeared to be a married couple.

After cautiously inquiring about the situation, the man breathed a sigh of relief.

We're not here to collect taxes.

I was just passing by and took a short break.

The elderly village chief, summoned by the middle-aged man's son, also came out quickly, leaning on his cane, to deal with these distinguished guests.

Having lost all his memories, Shugo was curious about everything, but now he had lost interest.

The dirty civilians looked at him with fear, wariness, panic, unease, and disgust, but not with welcome.

Hiiragi felt a pang in his heart, realizing that he had come up with a bad idea.

The servant stepped forward to discuss the arrangements for spending the night with the village chief.

The village seemed to have been awakened, with several children and teenagers pointing and craning their necks at this group of people who were completely different from them.

Soon, Shugo and Muzan were settled in the village chief's house.

The village chief's house had mud walls, and the mud walls made of yellow mud and weeds gave off a strange smell. Mosquitoes swarmed around, as if they were having a party.

This is already the best room in the village.

Shugo's mysophobia kicked in.

"Forget it, let's go back to the carriage," Hiiragi said awkwardly.

Muzan deliberately taunted Shugo, "Didn't you say you wanted to come here?"

"I'm sorry, I was wrong, you were right." Shugo apologized decisively, obediently lowered his head, and unconsciously stroked his wife's hair.

Muzan was pleased.

The lame middle-aged man who had led people into the house and was still there had his head bowed, but his face was contorted.

He heard what Hiiragi said clearly.

His eye was cracked, and his fist was clenched.

It was as if he heard another vicious voice spitting out "filthy death" in disgust, and ordering the samurai to break his legs.

Hatred gnaws at the soul like a venomous snake.

The limping man, who was experiencing auditory hallucinations, quickly regained his senses and hurriedly excused himself in a humble voice.

Hiiragi and his companion eventually returned to the carriage to rest.

The carriages were originally intended for long-distance travel, so they were quite comfortable.

The location where it was parked was chosen to be a large, shady spot, which suits the ghost's aversion to light.

On the other side, the village chief's house was not lit.

The moonlight is bright tonight, draping the earth in a light veil.

The village chief puffed on his tobacco, surrounded by a circle of adult men.

The atmosphere was quite silent.

This village had long avoided war thanks to its terrain, and this was the first time outsiders had entered, which made the villagers uneasy.

"Village chief, what should we do?"

The middle-aged man with a limp asked anxiously.

"Are we just going to send those people out like that? Won't word get out that we're living here?"

Little people have the wisdom of little people.

These villagers were all refugees who had suffered greatly from war and had endured many hardships to settle here.

"Is there a problem with this?" a fool asked.

"If word gets out that we're living here, the tax collectors will come running. Do you think they'll let us off the hook?" someone sneered from the darkness.

The atmosphere suddenly became silent and heavy.

"There are very few samurai among that group," someone else said after a moment.

The village chief spoke, delivering the final verdict.

"Go and get ready."