Demon Progenitor Development Project

After hearing the recollections, Shugo felt that the original owner must have had some serious illness.

Although my wife sounded adorable when she was a child.

No matter how the original owner viewed it, Shuugo felt that he had ill intentions.

[They went a little overboard with their dedication!]

They even sleep cuddling together in winter!

[Hentai! He really is a pervert who likes young girls!]

【I'm not that kind of pervert!】

Muzan, whose memories have been somewhat embellished: ...

[Was Ningning always sick before? No wonder she doesn't feel safe.]

Hiiragi's resentment gradually dissipated.

[After five hundred years, not even having any friends, isn't that a bit too lonely?]

Muzan: Tactics successful!

【or……】

Successfully obtained by playing the victim

"Ningning, do you still want to keep squirrels?"

"In no mood!"

Muzan cut the railway with nails.

The time spent outsmarting that squirrel was fun, but would I do it again?

He didn't want to get himself into trouble.

Muzan thought to himself with a sour expression.

Hiiragi couldn't help but laugh when he thought about the embarrassing things he had said before.

Muzan recounted his past in detail. As the daylight gradually dimmed, the bright moonlight replaced the brilliant sunlight, and night fell.

Yesterday, the battle made Nara Castle tense, and many more samurai patrolled the streets at night.

Flower Street seems to remain unchanged.

The place was still brightly lit and bustling with activity, filled with the scent of women's cosmetics and the allure of their soft breasts and arms.

Even though so many people died last night, this erotic brothel is still open for business.

A woman wearing a tattered kimono walks down the street.

She's about to go on a performance.

I need to find inspiration quickly.

The woman looked at the men coming and going on the street like a seasoned butcher, her eyes scrutinizing the lively, wriggling pork.

This street is very close to Flower Street.

Countless men linger here every day.

Those who had just finished their pleasures often chose to pass by here. They were either full of satisfaction or unsteady on their feet, but without exception, they all became the object of women's gazes.

Her husband used to be like that too.

The woman gripped the dagger hidden in her sleeve.

She found the dagger on the body of a samurai she had killed; it was very useful and sharp.

As her gaze swept around, the woman spotted a familiar figure.

It was the same customer who had brought his wife to the teahouse earlier.

Let's choose him!

With that thought in mind, the woman began to quietly approach the other person.

Next comes the classic assassin skill – backstab.

The woman who thrust with all her might missed her target.

In the blink of an eye, the dagger was taken away.

The snow-white-clad man was playing with a short knife.

The woman's pupils contracted.

"It's you, the one who plays the pipa. We have no grudge against each other, right? Why are you trying to kill me?"

Hiiragi looked at the woman with a puzzled expression.

I just came out to buy some gifts, but what's with all the best kimono shops and accessory shops being located in the geisha district?

Hiiragi scratched his head.

I'll probably have to explain when I get back.

"Hiragago." A faint voice rang out.

"Ningning, I just wanted to buy you a gift. The best shops are all near the red-light district! I'm not here to find prostitutes!"

Hiiragi explained in rapid succession.

A stunning woman in black with red patterns walked from the end of the street, exuding a noble and elegant air that made the other woman feel inferior.

Muzan raised an eyebrow, glanced at the rustic woman in front of him who looked no different from a beggar, and looked at the current situation with disdain.

Is this woman trying to kill Hiiragi?

Muzan recognized the woman, recalling what he had seen and heard at the teahouse.

Thoughts flowed freely.

A slender arm extends, and suddenly grown sharp nails pierce the woman's arm.

“Perfect timing, the ghost in this city is dead, you can be the replacement.”

"That's what Muzan said with ill intent."

A newborn demon will soon be killed by the Demon Slayer Corps, right?

In particular, a Pillar died here.

The woman screamed shrilly, as if she had a gout attack.

Hiiragi's lips twitched.

"Let's go first, samurai will come."

"Which type do you prefer? Jewelry around Nara Castle tends to be mostly gold and silver..."

The voices around me gradually faded away.

The rapid pounding of his heart sounded like muffled thunder.

Muscle fibers, the entire skeleton, and all internal organs are undergoing changes.

The screams gradually subsided.

The samurai who heard the screams rushed over, hoping that nothing bad had happened.

Yesterday, a large number of his colleagues died.

Upon seeing the woman lying on the ground, the samurai breathed a sigh of relief and went forward to inquire about the situation.

"Hey! Woman, what's going on?"

The woman slowly got up from the ground and then raised her head.

"what!!!!"

The samurai's face twitched; he was completely terrified.

This woman looked extremely strange; she had only one large eye on her face, standing alone in the center of her face.

That eye, like a huge gemstone, was now darting around, as if trying to take in everything around it.

Although the woman herself realized that the view was too strange, she had no time to care about it at the moment.

A strong thirst and hunger surged through her like a tide, constantly assaulting her reason.

The feeling was like countless ants gnawing at her stomach, unbearable.

Finally, her appetite overwhelmed her reason, and the woman pounced on the samurai without thinking.

In an instant, the woman opened her blood-red maw and bit the samurai's neck.

Then came a chilling, teeth-grinding chewing sound: "Crunch, crunch..."

The voice seemed to come from the depths of hell, sending chills down one's spine upon hearing it.

Several days passed, and the brothel madam discovered that one of the samurai had not shown up for work on time, and she couldn't help but curse inwardly.

However, apart from the madam, it seemed that no one really cared where the missing samurai had gone.

After all, on this bustling street, there are always people coming and going, and people have long been used to it.

And right there on the riverbank of Flower Street, another skeleton was quietly discovered, buried deep in the riverbed.

As time passed, the skeleton gradually merged with the river water, becoming one of the many nameless souls beneath this land.

The culprit has already left.