Chapter 204: Crossing the Line
"USELESS! YOU’RE ALL USELESS!"
Back in the Infinity Castle, Muzan’s enraged voice echoed everywhere. He paced back and forth with his hands behind his back, making no effort to hide his somber expression.
On the platform before him, the floor lay littered with shattered vials, and the Upper Ranks remained half-kneeling.
"The Blue Spider Lily... I’ve searched for over a thousand years without finding a trace. And how long has this Marcus been here? Yet he got his hands on it? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL GOOD FOR?!"
He swept the room with a ferocious glare that came to rest on Gyokko.
"And the Swordsmith Village? I told you to look into its whereabouts! WHERE IS THE INFORMATION?!"
Gyokko prostrated himself, rubbing his hands together uneasily.
"M-My Lord... I have a lead..."
"What I want is a confirmed location! Not intangible leads!"
At Muzan’s roar, Gyokko collapsed and began convulsing violently.
Muzan turned toward Douma.
"And you..."
Douma kept his head down, oblivious to his comrade’s fate.
"I ordered you to intercept the area around Asakusa and capture some Demon Slayers to sow discord between the Corps and Marcus, and to find their weaknesses." Muzan drew closer to him, his voice growing colder and colder. "And what did you do? You played around with them, dragged everything out until Marcus came to save them, and even got your head destroyed."
Douma unconsciously touched his neck.
Although the area had already regenerated, the sensation of his head exploding from a single punch lingered in his memory.
"WHAT ARE YOU ALL GOOD FOR?!"
The hall fell into complete silence.
And at some point, Kokushibou, who had remained quiet, opened his mouth.
"Muzan-sama, this actually isn’t entirely a bad thing."
"A good thing?" Muzan whirled around sharply. "You think being made fools of by Marcus is a good thing?"
Kokushibou didn’t avert his gaze; he raised his head, and his six eyes regarded Muzan calmly.
"At the very least, it proves the direction was correct. Marcus has people he cares about in the Demon Slayer Corps. When he saw us together, he fled immediately because he knows that, outside of Yoshiwara, the gap in strength between him and us is enormous. Yet even in that situation, he risked coming out to save them. That emotional need is his weakness—and with a weakness, he’s easier to handle."
Muzan fell silent.
He turned his back on them and began tapping on the table.
At that moment, Douma also raised his head. "Muzan-sama, even though he rescued them, I believe the goal of sowing doubt between Marcus and the Demon Slayer Corps can still be achieved."
Muzan shot him a sidelong glance.
"I understand human thinking and my own capabilities well," Douma explained with a faint smile. "My earlier battle wasn’t in vain. I fought them for three minutes; although I didn’t intend to kill them, my ice crystals severely damaged their lungs. For slayers who rely on breathing techniques, this is a fatal blow."
"Nonsense!" Muzan cut in, facing him with an icy voice.
"Even if they died while with Marcus, that would have nothing to do with him. What makes you think this would damage the relationship between him and the Demon Slayer Corps?"
"If they died, then of course it wouldn’t damage it," Douma smiled radiantly. "As long as Marcus makes it clear to the Demon Slayer Corps that it was us, there won’t be any problem. But if they stay alive... that’s another matter."
With a swift motion, he unfurled the single fan he had left, covering half of his face.
"My ice won’t necessarily end their lives, but I’m fully confident it will leave permanent damage to their lungs. Just a small amount inhaled is enough to rob them of any chance of further progress. And having inhaled it continuously for three minutes... that’s more than enough to leave them completely incapable of using breathing techniques."
Behind the fan, his eyes curved into crescent moons.
"Do you think a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, who has only just found the archenemy who murdered her family, would accept such an outcome?"
Muzan remained silent for a long moment.
He settled back into his chair, rested his fingers on the armrest, and the ferocity in his gaze diminished.
"Are you saying that, in order not to lose their strength, they’ll turn into Vampires?"
Douma didn’t answer; he simply kept smiling.
"But what’s the point of that?" Muzan frowned.
Kokushibou took up the thread again. "It means Marcus will cross the Demon Slayer Corps’ red line."
Muzan arched an eyebrow.
And after a few seconds, his eyes gained clarity.
To tell the truth, Muzan wasn’t very bright.
You could even say he was somewhat dim-witted, and above all, extremely cowardly.
With his abilities and a thousand years at his disposal, he could have turned this land into a world ruled by the night, where humans only trembled in fear during the day.
He had the capacity to become the king of the night, to make the people of the entire country obey his orders and submit to his command.
That way, he could have mobilized the resources of a whole nation to search for the Blue Spider Lily, appeared openly before people with complete ease instead of constantly changing outfits to hide, and annihilated the Ubuyashiki family, who had been opposing him for over a millennium.
Was it that he didn’t do it because he didn’t want to?
Of course not.
It was because he couldn’t pull it off. With such attributes and a thousand years of leeway, anyone with a bit of sense would have found it impossible to imagine how they could lose.
But as it happened, he was stubborn, dim-witted, and cowardly all at once, always considering that living hidden in the shadows was the safest path.
Nevertheless, despite being so obstinate that he’d let five brains rust away, after receiving a few pointers from his subordinates, he eventually grasped the situation.
"Marcus..." he murmured with his head lowered, "you’ve always been recruiting demons as subordinates, but you’ve never laid a hand on a single Hashira..."
"He has his reservations too."
This time Kokushibou stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
"That’s right! What holds up the Demon Slayer Corps has never been those mere swordsmen, but the Hashira. Whatever the reason, the moment he sets out to turn a Hashira into a Vampire, he’ll be crossing a line with the Corps."
"Once he extends his hands toward the Demon Slayer Corps and strips the Ubuyashiki of their branches, one will fall, then another, and then it’ll be three, four, five. After all, Vampires are a temptation they can’t resist. As much as Ubuyashiki can endure, he won’t sit idly by watching the strength he relies on to survive be corroded little by little by Marcus."
He raised his head and looked at Kokushibou.
"When that time comes, he’ll inevitably face the fiercest resistance from Ubuyashiki."
Kokushibou lowered his gaze. "Muzan-sama’s words are correct. In such a situation, in the end there will only be two outcomes: both sides come out battered... or they crumble apart."
Douma kept smiling.
"In the end... it’s something beneficial for you, Muzan-sama."
The corners of Muzan’s lips curled until he broke into laughter.
"Fufufu! That’s right!"
He stood up abruptly.
"Marcus relies on humans to wage war against us. If he really ends up breaking with Ubuyashiki and distances himself from Yoshiwara, which he depends on to survive, won’t he be left entirely at our mercy?!"
He clenched his fists, and a dazzling gleam radiated from his eyes.
"When that moment comes, just by capturing a single Vampire he can’t protect, I’ll be able to live freely under the sunlight! FUFUFU!"
The Upper Ranks bowed their heads in unison.
A hundred years had been enough time for them to understand his character perfectly.
Bad news wasn’t pleasant to hear; Muzan didn’t like listening to it, and speaking it meant death. Therefore, they learned to tell him only what he wanted to hear.
Those who didn’t learn had long since been eliminated.
However, while a brainless, cantankerous Muzan was easy to coddle, on Marcus’s side it wasn’t so simple to calm those two down.
When Tamayo entered the third-floor office with a frown, Marcus, seated behind the desk, let out a sigh.
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