Demon Slayer: Muzan, will you dance too?

Kiyokawa Izumi worries that he won't even be able to hold the Nichirin Blade steady if he doesn't grip it firmly with his calloused hands.

The blood-red Sharingan bloomed in the darkness, with three jet-black tomoe in a triangular shape, floating in the pupil, exuding both bewitching beauty and undeniable majesty.

In that instant, it was as if everything was laid bare before my eyes.

He can see everything clearly.

Left or right?

"No, it's right in the middle!"

Kiyokawa Izumi instantly realized that the second demon would rush straight at him and use its power, which was superior to that of humans, to fiercely pounce on him and knock him to the ground.

Compared to its remaining human form, it resembles a wild beast.

Slightly lower your body and lower your center of gravity.

ten meters,

Five meters,

The distance between the human and the ghost was rapidly closing, and they could even faintly smell that repulsive, fishy stench.

When their eyes met, the demon's movements froze for a moment, as if a sense of oppression emanated from the depths of its soul, causing its non-human heart to flutter slightly.

The blade, gleaming with a pale blue sheen, slashed downwards at an angle. It lacked a perfect arc and retained many unnecessary movements, yet it carried the resolute determination of the one wielding the blade.

But no matter what, my body has reached its limit.

The force was insufficient to sever the demon's neck; the Nichirin Blade was nearly knocked out of his hand by the impact, the blade stuck firmly in the demon's muscles.

The veins on his arms and neck were clearly visible, and the blood in his body flowed faster at this moment, with a large amount of oxygen being drawn into his abdomen.

"How could this be... No, this is impossible!"

The demon's neck twisted in a bizarre posture, and its scarlet pupils suddenly widened.

Will it die here?

Are you kidding me?

Kiyokawa Izumi was in no mood to say anything; at this moment, only one thought occupied her mind.

Not enough strength!

More!

Muscles are like a squeezed-out sponge, but if you squeeze them, you can always get some water out.

I could hear a buzzing sound in my ears, perhaps because I hadn't rested or eaten for too long, and my vision was starting to blur.

The wound was burning and painful, and even my throat felt a little uncomfortable.

The sharp blade moved slowly downwards, and one could even faintly hear the sound of it rubbing against bones.

"die!"

The fragile balance was broken, and the Nichirin Blade finally severed the demon's neck. Kiyokawa Izumi also fell forward due to inertia and lay on the ground for a long time, unable to get up.

My body is like an old machine, with warning signs popping up everywhere.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I didn't even know when the Nichirin Blade had slipped from my grasp.

This is bad, this is bad, this is bad!

A faint light appeared on the horizon, and the whole world seemed to quiet down. The prying eyes hidden in the shadows disappeared, and the undisguised malice slowly receded.

The third day arrived quietly.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the thick clouds, Kiyokawa Izumi, who had been relaxing, felt her eyelids become incredibly heavy and unknowingly fell asleep.

For evil spirits, sunlight is deadly.

Therefore, Kiyokawa Izumi doesn't need to worry about encountering any danger during the day.

If possible, he hopes that the next time he opens his eyes, he will be in his big bed at home.

……

After an unknown amount of time, Kiyokawa Izumi gradually regained consciousness.

He slowly opened his eyes, only to find his vision blurry and his hearing dulled. He instinctively tried to sit up, but his arms felt as heavy as lead.

My throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire, and I had a burning sensation in my chest and abdomen—in a game, that would be the two debuffs of hunger and fatigue.

"Or perhaps it's noon, or even the afternoon?"

A dull ache throbbed in his forehead, and Kiyokawa Izumi felt an urge to grab the hilt of a knife and smash it against his head.

To his despair, it had only been three days.

If he could, he really wanted to give up on this selection.

He lay there listlessly for what seemed like an eternity before finally managing to sit up with difficulty.

A quick glance at the wounds reveals they are all superficial injuries, and the bleeding has stopped.

But the current situation is very bad.

The original owner was just an ordinary person who overestimated his abilities and lacked self-awareness.

I didn't make any preparations for this selection.

There were about four or five rice balls in his arms, which had been squeezed and deformed during the previous battle.

How can you survive on just a few rice balls for seven days?

The wounds also need to be treated; I need to maintain my strength for the battle before nightfall.

Troublesome things kept happening one after another.

What made him feel most desperate was that there was a being called the Hand Demon in the selection process—a demon of that level that was far beyond his current ability to deal with.

Without breathing techniques and relying solely on a nerfed version of the Sharingan, what could he possibly use to fight the Hand Demon?

To encounter it is to die!

I took a deep breath and felt a slight pain in my throat.

He struggled to his feet, holding onto the knife handle, and took a few slow steps to allow his body to adjust.

According to the original owner's memories, there was a small stream nearby, which was probably formed by rainwater accumulation.

Reaching the babbling brook, which was just a short distance away, Qingchuan Quan cupped the fairly clear water in her hands and gently splashed it on her not-so-dry face. The icy coolness instantly refreshed her and made her feel much more awake.

He picked up some leaves and twigs from nearby, then took out his tinderbox from his pocket, tore off a small wad of tinder, and repeatedly scraped it against the flint and iron. Sparks flew, and the wad of tinder was quickly ignited, emitting a faint white smoke.

Kiyokawa Izumi gently blew, hoping to amplify the spark.

After starting the fire, he tore off a piece of cloth from the corner of his clothes and used the clear stream water to wash the larger leaves, strips of cloth, and stones.

Larger leaves can be used as containers to hold water, but they certainly won't burn directly on the fire; you can only heat them by putting in scorching hot stones.

Kiyokawa Izumi frantically operated the equipment, then suddenly recalled the scene when Kanao participated in the selection—the protagonist Tanjiro was in a sorry state, while the little girl only had a slightly dirty hem of her clothes.

At the time, I didn't think much of it, but now that I think about it, I can't help but admire that person from the bottom of my heart.

Despite the pain, I used a clean cloth soaked in hot water to wipe the wound again and again.

Then came drinking water and eating.

Save every minute and second to adjust your state.

As darkness fell and the mountain wind grew colder, Qingchuan Quan, sitting by the fire, felt a strange sense of being watched from all sides, which made him uneasy.

"Wait a little longer..."

He expressionlessly picked up a strip of cloth that had been drying by the fire and clumsily bandaged his wound.

The low murmurs were as if the speaker were talking to a demon in the shadows.

"Meat! It smells like meat!"

"I was here first! Get out of my way!"

The two unrestrained arguments weighed heavily on Kiyokawa Izumi's mind.