Chapter 172: Council
Infinity Castle.
Brilliantly lit.
Muzan sat in his high-backed chair, his face grim. Behind him, eight whips writhed slowly, like eight impatient serpents.
Whether out of distrust or simple caution, he hadn’t intended to withdraw them even upon arriving at the Infinity Castle.
And before him lay a floor littered with the remains of destroyed experiments.
Clearly, a fit of impotent rage had just taken place here.
Gyokko and Nakime didn’t dare so much as breathe behind him.
"Vampires, blue spider lily, Marcus, Ubuyashiki..."
Muzan had held the same posture for a long while, without moving an inch. His head was in chaos: his five brains were an utter mess.
At last he spoke.
"Nakime. Summon the rest of the Upper Ranks."
The biwa sounded in response.
Gyokko lifted his head and asked cautiously, "Muzan-sama... do you intend to...?"
"A meeting."
The sound of the biwa flowed melodiously. As the most practical tool of all, Nakime didn’t keep Muzan waiting even a minute: several doors opened, one after another, above the platform.
The first to appear was Upper Rank Four, Hantengu.
He came rolling out of a wooden door that had materialized from nowhere and curled into a ball, like a frightened mouse, trembling against the floor.
"M-Muzan-sama... you summoned this humble subordinate...?"
His voice was weak and trembling, and his murky eyes darted from side to side without rest until they found a broken board to hide behind.
Muzan looked at him without a word.
The second door opened, and Doma appeared. Atop his platinum-blond hair rested a smear of dark blood, almost like a hat. His seven-colored irises curved, and from the corner of his lips hung an amused smile.
"Oh, my, it’s been a long time, Muzan-sama."
Muzan paid him no mind whatsoever, and Doma didn’t seem to care. He walked over to one side with a smile and, once on his feet, his eyes immediately shot out to scan the room, searching for anyone willing to chat with him.
The last door opened.
Upper Rank One, Kokushibo.
He wore a haori of black and purple patterns, and his long hair was gathered into a high ponytail that fell down his back.
The six strange pupils on his face gave off a golden, dark gleam, over sclerae as red as blood.
His steps were firm, the distance between each one exact.
He advanced until he stood before the seat, stopped, and inclined his head slightly.
"Muzan-sama."
Muzan waved a hand in greeting. In silence, Kokushibo withdrew to one side, sat down calmly, and closed his eyes.
"We’re all here now... let’s begin."
"Everyone?"
Doma, who had been looking around with a smile, was stunned and hastened to correct him, "Muzan-sama, hasn’t Akaza arrived yet?"
Muzan lifted his head. On that face so refined it hardly seemed a man’s, absolute malice could be read.
His dark circles were pronounced and his lips were pressed tight, as if he were barely restraining something.
But he bore it.
He couldn’t lose his temper in front of his subordinates! Or at least... he couldn’t let them notice.
"Not just Akaza. Gyutaro won’t be able to come either."
And the moment he uttered those words, there was an instant of absolute silence.
Nakime played dead, Gyokko played deaf, Hantengu wouldn’t stop trembling, and Kokushibo slowly opened his eyes.
Only Doma...
"What? Muzan-sama... what do you mean Akaza won’t come? Has he died? Did the humans kill him?"
Doma rested his fan against his chin, his face flooded with "pity."
"Ah~... what a shame. And here I was thinking of going to chat with him for a while."
"Shut up."
Muzan cut him off coldly, and Doma obeyed at once. He blinked cheerfully as he covered his smile with his fan.
"If they’d died, at least they’d have saved me the trouble," Muzan continued. "But those two... they’ve betrayed me!"
"Betrayed?" Kokushibo murmured. "How is that possible?"
At this point, Muzan had no intention of hiding it any longer.
"See for yourselves."
His eyes lit up with a crimson light.
The bodies of the three Upper Ranks shuddered at the same time.
It was the bond of blood; Muzan was forcibly instilling his own memories into them.
The surprise attack!
The decapitation!
The rebirth!
The vampires!
Akaza!
Daki and Gyutaro!
The blue spider lily!
The scene closed in on the ruins of Yoshiwara.
A man in a teal haori stood tall beneath the moonlight, holding two long swords stained a burning red.
And then...
The image began to spin.
That man lunged forward and drew back again, his mouth open in a ghastly way, impossible for any human being.
The memory cut off right there. Muzan didn’t transmit what came after.
The Upper Ranks pulled free of the memories and fell silent. Hantengu was still curled up on the floor, trembling nonstop; Doma’s smile grew deeper; and Kokushibo’s six pupils bored into Muzan.
"Tell me what you think of this Demon Hashira, the vampire Marcus."
"Muzan-sama."
Kokushibo spoke up, his voice graver than usual.
"Judging by your memories, just before he decapitated you, this Marcus’s strength surged explosively."
Muzan stared at him.
"It’s not his normal state," Kokushibo went on. "It’s a kind of... enhancement. And that enhancement is connected to the environment of Yoshiwara."
"Y-Yoshiwara?" Hantengu murmured. "The nest of those women?"
Kokushibo didn’t look at him. "Muzan-sama, this Marcus’s Breathing style is called ’Breath of Desire.’"
Muzan frowned.
"Are you implying...?"
"Desire... lust..." Kokushibo enunciated each word. "...women..."
He narrowed his eyes.
"If I’m not mistaken, his Breathing consists of enhancing his strength through the scent of women. He also mentioned a sharpening of his sense of smell, so it can be taken for granted that the more feminine scents he perceives, the more powerful he becomes."
Hantengu said, trembling, "In Yoshiwara... there are thousands of women... If he stays there... how frightening... how it frightens me..."
"So that’s what it was~" Doma tilted his head, and his multicolored eyes glinted. "More women, more strength? Well, well... that really is a most interesting Breathing style~."
"I’d love to learn it~ I also want to build a church made up only of women~~"
"Speak of what matters."
Doma closed his mouth without protest, though the smile didn’t leave his face.
Gyokko poked his head out from behind, his hands fluttering restlessly over his body.
"Muzan-sama, this subordinate has a stratagem."
"Speak."
"Since he’s made Yoshiwara his base, we need only raze all of Yoshiwara."
Gyokko’s voice turned cruel.
"As long as you hold Marcus off and give us ten minutes, we won’t leave a single soul. Without those women, he’ll be nothing but useless."
Muzan’s mouth twitched.
Ten minutes?
If he couldn’t hold him off even ten seconds, how was he supposed to last ten minutes?
In that instant, his mind filled once again with the image of Marcus opening his enormous mouth to devour him.
Without realizing it, he leaned back, and the chair’s backrest creaked.
"...Think of something else."
"W-What if... we let them fight each other?" Hantengu spoke cautiously. "Marcus has become a demon, so the Demon Slayer Corps won’t sit idly by, not in any way. The Ubuyashiki bloodline detests demons more than anyone. Sooner or later, those two will break off relations."
Hantengu’s voice faded more and more, but his words came out faster and faster.
"We can wait for both of them to be badly wounded, and then... then..."
"And then take advantage of the situation?" Gyokko cut in with sinister mockery.
Hantengu shrank his neck and didn’t dare answer.
"The way I see it, what you’ve got is a fear of dying."
"I, I..."
"Enough."
Muzan spoke, eyeing Hantengu sidelong.
This coward had hit the nail right on the head with what he himself was thinking. Sit and wait for Marcus and the Demon Slayer Corps to break off relations, and while they bled each other dry, wait for the moment to act.
Without a doubt, the safest method of all.
Even so, he turned his gaze back to Kokushibo.
"And you? What do you have to say?"
Kokushibo was silent for a few seconds.
"A direct attack."
Muzan frowned. "Explain yourself."
"Marcus and his vampires are too dangerous." Kokushibo’s voice was profoundly grave. "We can’t let them keep growing. The more we put this off, the more variables will arise."
Seeing his idea backed, Gyokko’s eyes lit up.
"Muzan-sama! This subordinate volunteers to go! As long as you hold Marcus off, this subordinate—"
"I won’t go." Muzan was categorical.
Gyokko froze stiff.
"...?"
"I won’t go," Muzan repeated. "But you can."
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