Author's Note (Please Read Before the Chapter):
Hey everyone! I know I promised to upload three chapters per week, but unfortunately, my laptop crashed and won't be repaired until June 11th. That means I can only upload this single chapter for now. Honestly, even this wouldn't be here if I hadn't saved it on Inkstone through Webnovel—thank the heavens for that!
Starting next week, I'll be adjusting the upload schedule to one chapter every 3–4 days until things are fully back on track. Really sorry for the inconvenience, and thanks for your patience and support! 😔
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Recap:
After arriving in the world of Demon Slayer, Alex finds himself right in the middle of the tragic arc where Rengoku was destined to die. However, rewriting fate, Alex not only saves Rengoku but also defeats Upper Moon Three—Akaza.
With this major shift in events, the final battle looms closer than ever. Using this opportunity to draw Muzan out, Alex works alongside CARA and Tamayo, who successfully cure Nezuko—restoring her humanity.
Following a pivotal meeting with the Hashira and the Ubuyashiki family, a powerful alliance is now formed to take on Muzan and his demon army, setting the stage for the ultimate showdown..
{AN- PRESENT MEANS PRESENT TIME SO THE THING WHICH SAYS BEFORE ITS THE SCENE BEFORE THE PRESENT TIME}
UNKNOWN PLACE (1day before present)
ALEX'S POV
Three weeks had passed, and the world felt like it was holding its breath.
There was no sign of Muzan or any activity from the Upper Moons, their presence as absent as a shadow in a storm. The demons were unnaturally silent, a stillness that prickled the back of my neck like a warning whispered in the dark.
Meanwhile, every Hashira and Demon Slayer was deep in training—inside the System Space, a realm I'd opened to all members of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Their reactions had been… well, expected. Amazement. Disbelief. Curiosity. The System Space was a futuristic marvel, where sleek machines hummed through the air like dragonflies and landscapes stretched into digital dreams.
Holographic skies shifted above, now a starry cosmos, now a blazing sunset, the ground beneath a mosaic of glowing tiles or soft grass, depending on the training zone.
But what truly captivated them was the time dilation—two days in here equaled only one day outside, a quirk of physics that bent their minds like a sword under fire.
They were stunned, their jaws dropping like stones. Awestruck, their eyes wide as they realized the potential. Motivated, their resolve hardening like steel in a quench.
Everyone trained. Including me, sweat beading on my brow as I pushed my limits, the air thick with the metallic tang of effort.
I created multiple shadow clones to maintain my chakra control, each one a mirror of myself, moving in perfect sync as they saprred and train hashira. They took on every Hashira in battle—all at once, except Shinobu, who I'd trained personally, her violet eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and trust.
Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke had leaped into the fray too, brimming with courage, their Nichirin Blades glinting with determination. But one by one, they all went down.
Miserably.
Sanemi and Obanai, the Wind and Serpent Hashira—both too proud to bend to words—learned the hard way that fists do, in fact, speak louder.
Their scowls could've curdled milk, but I made sure they got the message before they fought me they had to defeat my clone first, my strikes precise enough to bruise their egos more than their bodies.
Sanemi's growl was practically feral, but there was a glint of respect in his eyes by the end.
But raw combat wasn't the only training, not in a place like this.
Inside the System Space, there was a Simulation Chamber—a hyper-advanced virtual environment that hummed with energy, its walls pulsing with faint blue light like a living heartbeat. Within it, users could engage in fights against virtual enemies.
Not just any enemies—fictional legends from anime, manhwa, comics, and movies, their forms so vivid they seemed to breathe. Every opponent was recreated perfectly, with their original powers and abilities, drawn from the deepest corners of my memory, their voices echoing with chilling accuracy.
How? Simple. The Enhancement Potion and Cara.
That potion gave me near-perfect photographic memory, letting Cara scan and extract every detail of what I'd ever read, seen, or heard—well, except for those men-will-be-men moments I kept locked away.
As the nanomachines did for Cheon Yeo-Woon, Cara accessed my entire memory database, a vault of stories and battles. And from that? The Simulation Chamber created enemies so lifelike, that they felt more real than the real world, their movements fluid, their taunts cutting.
Better yet, time inside the simulation was slowed four times more than the System Space itself. That meant eight days of simulation would pass in just one real-world day, a mind-bending advantage.
The cons? It wouldn't improve physical strength—only mental discipline, battle experience, strategy, and enlightenment, sharpening the mind like a blade on a whetstone. The body still had to train separately to integrate the newfound skills.
That's how I progressed my sword mastery one step ahead of Yoriichi; with my body already strong, I just needed the battle experience to hone my skills and reflexes, each clash in the chamber etching precision into my nerves.
Some Hashira, driven by their own regrets or sense of weakness, fought their chosen nemeses over and over again, their faces set with grim determination.
Tengen—the Sound Hashira—picked Upper Moon 6 Gyutaro, his flamboyant strikes flashing like lightning as he battled until his movements became second nature, his headband glinting with sweat.
Shinobu, on the other hand… chose Upper Moon 2, her eyes burning with cold fury, a fire that could've burned hell itself.
Every swing. Every dodge. Every loss. She recorded it all, her movements growing sharper, her poison-laced resolve unyielding. Again and again, she faced Doma, her sister's killer, in that digital hell, each defeat fueling her fire.
In just two weeks of real-time, they gained the experience of nearly three months, their techniques honed to a razor's edge. Their minds were clearer, their senses sharper, like predators stalking the night.
And their determination? Unshakable, a fortress of will that no demon could breach.
Watching Shinobu so hellbent on avenging her sister, her petite frame trembling with resolve, I knew I couldn't let her walk that path without help.
I accessed the System Space armory, its walls lined with glowing panels, and brought out one of the four custom suits stored inside, its surface sleek and black, pulsing with faint violet runes.
It was more powerful than the Black Panther suit—far beyond it, in both design (customized with sleek, lightweight alloys) and potential, capable of enhancing strength, speed, and durability to superhuman levels.
IMAGE AS NORMAL
IMAGE AS CUSTOMIZED BY SHINOBU
But it came with a catch: once registered, it could only be worn by a single individual. One user. One suit. No second chances.
I gave it to her—for her safety, my heart thudding as I handed it over, knowing it could mean the difference between life and death.
She initially thought I didn't have faith in her—that I doubted her ability to defeat Upper Moon Two. But she misunderstood. It's not that I didn't believe in her; it's that I knew she could do it. Her progress against Dōma has been nothing short of remarkable.
The only complication is Inosuke and Kanao. They both want to fight Dōma as well. Inosuke… it's personal for him. Shinobu reminds him of his mother, though he doesn't realize it fully.
As for Kanao, she hasn't voiced it aloud, but I can tell—she wants to be part of this battle too.
After a bit of emotional melodrama—me telling her why I had given it to her—I made it clear. It's not just about the goal. You have to think about the people beside you. If you lose them... even your sister wouldn't be able to forgive you.
With those words, she finally accepted the gift I gave her.
Even red-haired anime girls didn't get this angry. But damn… she looked too cute when she did. Just imagine a 10/10, 5'3" shawty fuming like a kettle, arms crossed, cheeks puffed up, and violet eyes daring the world to challenge her. Hehehe… adorable, like a kitten with a vendetta.
Now? Now I could finally say it: We're ready.
Ready for the final battle against Muzan Kibutsuji, the air crackling with the promise of war.
Sure, with the Green Lantern Ring, I can solo Muzan and his entire demon army, its emerald glow bending to my will.
Honestly, I could even pull it off without the ring… but in that scenario, I can't guarantee there wouldn't be any collateral damage. But what's the point of that?
This is their karma, their story, their fight. I can give them the tools—suits, drones, training. I can give them power. But walking the path of a warrior? That's on them.
And I know—no matter what I say—they'll stand and fight beside me, their blades gleaming with defiance. That's who they are, forged in blood and honor.
Later, as Shinobu and I walked hand-in-hand through a garden bursting with flowers—colors as vivid as the morning sun, their petals swaying in the breeze like a painter's dream—we finally allowed ourselves a rare moment of peace.
The air was sweet with jasmine and honeysuckle, the ground soft with clover. Our relationship had bloomed too, from shy glances and awkward silences to something more… real, a warmth that settled deep in my chest.
We were officially dating now 11 days passed, and every touch of her hand sent a spark through me, like a fire kindled in the dark.
Though I had to admit—Cara didn't take it well. Jealousy flickered across her voice interface more than once, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.
So, naturally, I confessed to her too. Told her the truth—my feelings for her, raw and unfiltered. The result? She glitched. Straight up Hinata-style short-circuit, her systems overloading like a computer fed too much love poetry.
The entire training session had to be paused for three hours while she rebooted from the emotional overload, her voice stuttering apologies. Worth it, I thought, grinning at the memory.
As we walked further through the garden, the sunlight dappling through the leaves, we spotted Tanjiro and Zenitsu up ahead, looking incredibly nervous, their faces pale as if they'd seen a ghost.
Inosuke, meanwhile, just lay on the ground staring at the sky like he'd been blessed by cosmic truth, his boar mask tilted askew.
The moment they noticed us, Shinobu quickly let go of my hand, cheeks flushed with that familiar pink hue, her fingers brushing her haori nervously.
"Tanjiro, why aren't you training Sun Breathing with my clone? Didn't I tell you it'll vanish in four hours?" I asked, striding toward them, hands in pockets, my voice light but pointed.
Tanjiro looked up, bruises covering his entire face like some poor kid who forgot about the milk on the stove and got a sandal beating from his mom.
"A-Alex-san, I did train! I managed to last five minutes straight without getting hit by your clone's stick!" he said, his voice earnest despite the welts.
I tried not to laugh, my mouth twitching slightly. Not bad, kid, I thought, impressed by his grit.
Then Zenitsu stepped forward, bowing deeply with a level of respect that felt genuine,(because he heard about his master case) his yellow haori quivering slightly. I gave a nod back.
"So… what's going on? Why do you two look like you've seen a ghost? You trained. What's the issue?"
Zenitsu and Tanjiro exchanged nervous glances, their eyes darting like cornered prey, before Tanjiro spoke, his voice hesitant.
"It's Inosuke. He's saying… weird things. Deep things. And now we're worried he might have… brain damage or something…"
I tilted my head and looked over, my brow furrowing.
Inosuke was flat on his back, gazing at the sky as if the universe itself whispered secrets to him, his mask reflecting the clouds above. Then he murmured, almost poetically,
"What is the universe...? We are so small, yet so vast… Being alive gives us the opportunity to dive into everything…" He mumbled on like a monk on a peaceful cosmic trip, his voice soft and reverent.
I deadpanned. "Did he… take trial potions from the lab? I told you guys not to mess with anything in there," I said, my tone flat but laced with suspicion.
Zenitsu waved his hands frantically, his voice pitching higher.
"No! No, Alex-san! We didn't! But he did say he wanted to beat everyone. Even you. So… he snuck into the Simulation Chamber and challenged the strongest opponent. He set the time to two whole days of real-world time…"
My face went blank. I stared at Inosuke, then back at Zenitsu, then back again, my mind processing the sheer audacity.
"…You serious?" I asked, my voice low, almost disbelieving.
Zenitsu nodded, panicked, his hands flailing. "He's been in there for two real days. We don't know what happened in there, but… he hasn't been the same since."
I rubbed my temple and sighed, but deep down, I was impressed, a grudging respect stirring. Really, Inosuke?
Shinobu tilted her head, her braid swaying slightly. "Tier-1? How strong are we talking?" she asked, her voice curious but edged with concern.
I gave her a flat look. "Strong enough to blow this planet to bits with a single punch," I said, my tone matter-of-fact.
She blinked, her lips parting slightly. "…Oh."
Without another word, I tapped the watch on my wrist and issued a quick command, the device glowing faintly.
"Cara, we've got a case of psychological trauma. Inosuke... yeah, use the plasma memory reader. The situation is—" I paused,
glancing over at the wild boar boy who was smiling up at the sky like he'd just unlocked the secrets of the cosmos. "—very bad. Prep him. Make sure he's ready for the final fight."
A soft voice replied in my ear, smooth and sultry, with a hint of teasing. "Okay, baby."
A grin tugged at my lips at her casual tone, my heart lifting despite the chaos.
Then I turned around—Shinobu had just stepped beside me—and in one smooth motion, I scooped her up into a princess carry, her lightweight frame fitting perfectly in my arms.
Her eyes widened in shock, and her cheeks immediately flushed a bright, beautiful red, her breath catching.
The three boys stared at us with stunned expressions, their jaws practically on the grass, as I looked at them. "Cara will be here in a second. Tell her everything you just told me."
Then, still holding Shinobu, I leaned in and pressed a kiss against her soft cheek, the warmth of her skin like a spark against my lips. Her entire face lit up, flustered and pink, her eyes darting away shyly.
Leaning in close to her ear, I whispered, "We've got the whole day today…"
And with that, I leaped into the trees, carrying her effortlessly, moving from branch to branch like a ninja with a stolen princess, the wind whistling past us.
Back at the field, Cara arrived moments later, descending from a portal along with her sleek Spade Rescue Unit—a group of elite robotic medics, swift and precise, their metallic bodies glinting under the sun, controlled directly by the Spade AI Core.
She landed with a graceful spin, her coat fluttering like a raven's wings as her sharp eyes scanned the scene.
Tanjiro sat slumped on the ground, battered and breathless, barely able to speak. So her eyes shifted to Zenitsu instead, her expression a mix of professionalism and exasperation.
"What happened?" she asked, already pulling up diagnostic data on her wrist holo, the screen flickering with streams of code.
Zenitsu looked ready to cry from sheer stress, his voice trembling. "H-He challenged the Tier-1 list... for two full days in real-time."
Cara blinked "…Really?"
Zenitsu nodded quickly, his hands wringing. "Really."
Cara let out a sigh, rubbing her temple with a gloved hand. "Alright. Spade—take him to the trauma ward for full neural diagnostics," she commanded, her voice crisp.
"Affirmative," replied one of the Spade Units, its voice cool and mechanical, its optic sensors glowing red.
Two of them approached Inosuke—who was still muttering things like "What is the essence of being... does the wind cry out to the stars...?" as if he'd met God and God gave him a riddle instead of answers.
They gently lifted him onto a levitating stretcher, its anti-gravity hum soft in the air, and began transporting him through a swirling portal, the edges glowing with blue light.
Cara looked at Zenitsu, then at Tanjiro, and sighed again, her voice tinged with amusement. "Honestly, I told Alex this kind of thing would happen... but did he listen? Nooo..." She muttered something under her breath, her tone both fond and annoyed. Like a wife complaining to his husband.
BACK TO ALEX'S SIDEALEX'S POV
I was still carrying Shinobu in my arms, effortlessly leaping from branch to branch, the forest a blur of green and gold around us. Her head rested against my shoulder, her slender frame relaxed—content, her warmth seeping into me like sunlight.
She wasn't just enjoying the ride. She was basking in something deeper—the warmth of the love I'd shown her. I hadn't just helped with her training, strategies, or techniques. I'd given her something more—strength.
The means to avenge her sister, a gift of power wrapped in care, in the form of the body suit that bonded only to her.
She turned her gaze up to me, her violet eyes gleaming softly in the moonlight, like twin stars in a velvet sky.
Then, gently, she shifted—resting her head against my chest, close enough to hear the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, her breath warm against my collar.
And then she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, carrying more weight than the question itself. "What is love to you, Alex?"
I glanced down, surprised—but not entirely caught off-guard, my heart skipping like a stone across water. Her eyes peeked up at me, quietly hopeful, waiting for an answer, her fingers tightening slightly on my sleeve.
I didn't speak immediately. I took a breath, eyes on hers, the world fading to just us.
Then, softly—honestly—I spoke. "Love for me…" I said, brushing my nose gently against hers, feeling her warmth, "is something that transcends material needs and expectations. It's pure. Unconditional. Selfless."
Her cheeks flushed the faintest shade of pink, as if my answer surpass her expectations. I could feel the warmth rising off her skin as she whispered back, "I love you, Alex."
My feet froze mid-stride. I landed silently on the next branch, still holding her, the world pausing around us.
For a second, everything stopped—the wind, the forest, even my heartbeat, the air thick with the weight of her words.
I looked into her eyes, barely inches away, their violet depths pulling me in like a tide. Her lips parted, her breath soft and warm, a quiet invitation.
I leaned in closer, our foreheads touching now, the world narrowing to just her. "I love you too, Shinobu," I said, my voice low, raw with truth.
And in that quiet moment, high above the forest floor, nothing else mattered. Not war. Just us. Just love.
The forest was quiet, its stillness a rare gift, like the world had stopped just for us. Shinobu remained in my arms, her breath brushing against my skin, warm and steady. Her arms slowly wrapped around my neck as I stood atop the tree branch.
"Alex," she whispered again, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of my jaw, her touch featherlight but electric. "I've never felt this… safe before. Not since… her."
I didn't need her to say the name. Her sister's memory was etched into every part of her, every drive she had to fight, survive, and grow stronger.
I understood that grief, that fire, that hollow ache only love could soften, its weight a shadow I'd seen in her eyes too many times.
So I held her tighter, one arm under her legs, the other around her back, her warmth grounding me. "You don't have to carry it alone anymore," I murmured into her hair, my voice soft but firm.
"Not your grief. Not your vengeance. Not your pain. I'm here now."
Her fingers curled into the fabric at my collar, and she pulled herself even closer, her breath hitching. The scent of wisteria clung faintly to her hair, blending with the cool evening air, a reminder of the world we fought for.
"Then show me," she breathed, her lips grazing my ear, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "Let me feel what love means to you, not in words… but in presence."
I blinked, my heart thudding, her words sinking deep. She wasn't asking for a distraction, wasn't seeking fleeting passion. This was trust, vulnerability, her choosing me—not just as a fighter or friend, but as someone worthy of her love.
Without a word, I leaped down from the branches, finding a quiet clearing nestled deep within the trees, the grass soft underfoot. I gently set her down, but she didn't let go, her hands lingering on my arms.
She cupped my face with both hands, rising on her toes, her eyes locked on mine. I leaned down the rest of the way, and our lips met—soft, searching, unhurried, a kiss that felt like a promise. The world faded—the wind, the leaves, the bloodshed of our world. None of it mattered in that moment.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, a quiet urgency in her touch. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer, and for the first time, I felt her melt into me—not just physically, but emotionally, her walls softening.
"You make me want to believe again…" she whispered as our foreheads rested together, her breath warm against my lips, "that something good still exists in this world."
I smiled gently, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on her cheek. "You're the proof of that, my love," I said, my voice soft but certain.
We didn't need to rush. So we stayed like that, wrapped in one another, heartbeats aligned, under a sky full of stars, the forest whispering its quiet approval.
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The first light of morning crept through the trees, painting the clearing in hues of gold and rose. I opened my eyes to find her still in my arms, sleeping peacefully, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, her face serene in a way I rarely saw.
I brushed a gentle kiss against her forehead, careful not to wake her. She stirred faintly, mumbling my name in her sleep, her voice a soft melody.
My hand found hers, our fingers intertwining.
(some would say demons will attack suddenly bothers they are surrounded by wisteria trees)
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UBAYASHIKI ESTATE –10 days before present
Third Person POV
The room was quiet—serene in a way only the Ubuyashiki Estate could provide, wrapped in the soft rustle of wind-blown shoji doors and the scent of cedar and faint incense lingering in the air, warm and grounding.
The tatami mats gleamed softly under the morning light filtering through paper screens, casting delicate patterns on the walls. Only two people were present, their presence a quiet anchor in the stillness.
Alex sat across from Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the head of the Demon Slayer Corps, his frail form draped in a simple kimono, his sunken eyes bright with a clarity that belied his illness.
No guards. No Hashira. No interruptions. Just the leader and the anomaly who had changed everything, their silhouettes framed against the open courtyard where Sakura petals drifted like soft pink snow.
Their eyes met in silence, a mutual understanding passing between them, heavy with unspoken gratitude and resolve.
Kagaya looked more at ease than ever before, the fatigue that once weighed down his every breath now lighter, his shoulders less hunched.
The decay that had steadily consumed his body had halted—no, reversed, his skin bearing a faint flush of life again, the constant pain that had gnawed at him lessened to a dull ache. Thanks to Alex.
Not just for the healing potion—a shimmering vial that alone had extended Kagaya's life from a final year to potentially another decade with his family, his children's laughter a distant melody—but also for something far deeper, a miracle few could comprehend.
A hidden, almost impossible procedure, one that defied the laws of nature.
Alex had used his DNA manipulation ability to extract the demonic taint that had cursed the Ubuyashiki bloodline for centuries—a result of Muzan himself once being a distant ancestor, his corruption woven into their very genes.
Those cursed fragments had rooted themselves so deeply into their genetics that even the family's healers, with their ancient knowledge, believed it was irreversible, a sentence of suffering passed down through generations.
But Alex made it possible, his tech or ability bent fate itself. Without demanding a thing in return.
Kagaya gave a faint smile, serene and warm, his voice soft but resonant. "I can never thank you enough, Alex. You asked for nothing, yet gave so much. Not only to my family… but to every child who serves under the Demon Slayer Corps, their lives brighter for your presence."
The words made Alex shift slightly in place, his fingers brushing the back of his neck, a flush creeping up his face. Compliments like these always made him uncomfortable, like a spotlight he didn't know how to stand under.
"You don't have to thank me," he replied, avoiding Kagaya's gaze for a moment, his voice gruff but sincere. "I didn't do it for gratitude. I just… felt like it needed to be done."
There was a beat of silence, the air heavy with the weight of his words.
Then Kagaya chuckled softly, the sound like a gentle breeze. "Even so, you have my eternal gratitude." A pause—then his lips curled into a teasing smile, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"However… don't think I'll hand over Shinobu's hand in marriage so easily."
Alex choked on the tea he'd just taken a sip of, coughing violently, the porcelain cup clattering slightly on the low table.
"A-Ah…" he sputtered, his face reddening as he composed himself, his usual confidence crumbling under Kagaya's playful jab.
Of all the things he'd expected from this conversation, that was not one of them, the words hitting like a sneak attack.
It had only been two days since he and Shinobu had officially started dating, their bond still fresh,
a delicate thing blooming in the chaos. But Kagaya's words made one thing clear—he saw himself not just as the Corps leader… but as a father figure to all of them, his care extending beyond duty.
Alex straightened his back and bowed deeply—more as a man seeking approval than a warrior before his general, his posture earnest.
"I promise," he said sincerely, voice steady, his eyes meeting kagaya's with unwavering resolve,
"I will protect her with everything I have. No harm will ever come to her while I'm still breathing."
Kagaya's smile widened, eyes closing with soft contentment, the lines on his face softening.
"That's all I needed to hear," he said with a warm smile… before his tone shifted, subtly but noticeably, the softness fading, replaced by a quiet seriousness.
"Now… what do you think Muzan is planning?"
His gaze sharpened, a rare moment of steel beneath the usual calm, his hands folding in his lap.
"He and his demons have gone completely silent. No sightings. No attacks. Not even a whisper in the shadows. For more than a week now, there's been nothing. And silence, in his case… is far more dangerous than chaos," Kagaya said, his voice low, each word measured.
Alex didn't answer immediately. He set his teacup down with a soft clink, the sound sharp in the quiet, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, his mind racing through possibilities.
"I've been considering several possibilities," he finally said, leaning forward slightly, his voice calm but edged with caution. "But three of them are the most likely."
Kagaya nodded, silently urging him to continue, his expression attentive.
"all revolve around me," Alex continued, his tone steady. "The first: he causes chaos in a densely populated city. He'd aim to divide our forces—spread us thin—then use that chaos as a distraction to launch a surprise assault on the Demon Slayer Corps itself. Specifically, to get to Nezuko, her sunlight immunity his obsession."
Kagaya folded his hands, listening intently, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the scenario.
"Second?" he asked, his voice calm but probing.
"He targets our only natural protection," Alex said grimly, his jaw tightening. "The wisteria trees. Not directly with demons… but with humans."
Kagaya's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Humans? That… seems unlikely. There are always outliers who live in fear and might help demons but for an organized attack? The Corps is too large—too fortified—for scattered sympathizers to do real damage," he said, his tone thoughtful but skeptical.
Alex's gaze darkened, his voice low and deliberate. "You're right. That's what used to be true," he said.
"But Muzan never attacked the Corps directly before because it offered him nothing. He's a narcissist—self-obsessed, his ego high above the sky. Even when we killed Upper Moons, he didn't care enough to retaliate head-on. At most, h would have attack the Swordsmith Village or go after individual Hashira. But now…"
Alex paused, his jaw clenching, the weight of his words settling like a storm cloud.
"Now, he needs Nezuko. Desperately. She's no longer just an anomaly to him—she's a necessity. And Doma—Upper Moon Two—has a cult. Humans are loyal to him. Fanatics, brainwashed and devoted. That changes everything. With their help, coordinated sabotage of wisteria forests isn't far-fetched anymore."
Kagaya's calm expression deepened into thought, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, the incense smoke curling lazily around him. "Then… it's time we reinforce our outer defenses," he said, his voice firm, resolute. "Your assumptions are sound—and worth preparing for."
Alex nodded, his expression unwavering. "Already in motion," he replied. "My drones are patrolling the entire perimeter of the Corps headquarters andvillages near it—constantly. Any demonic or suspicious activity within ten kilometers will trigger an alert. I've also deployed them to key cities and villages."
He tapped on a screen-like projection that appeared beside him—courtesy of Cara, its edges glowing faintly blue. A fully detailed map of Japan lit up, filled with red, blue, and green pulses, each marking a different drone's position, patrol path, or detection zone, the data streams flickering like fireflies.
Kagaya leaned closer in fascination, his eyes tracing the glowing map, a glimmer of amusement and approval in his tone. "Ah… that birds without wings," he said, his voice warm. "They're remarkable."
Alex chuckled softly, a rare moment of levity. "They're not just for scouting anymore. Each drone is equipped with anti-personnel and anti-demon weaponry. They're also linked to the nearest squads of Demon Slayers—so they can direct backup and reroute defenses instantly."
Kagaya offered a slow nod, his expression one of quiet awe. "Then we truly are in a new era," he murmured, his voice soft but resonant. "One where the line between steel and spirit… begins to blur."
"There's… the last scenario," Alex said, his tone sharpening with gravity, his eyes narrowing. "One that's far more dangerous and difficult to counter."
(Alex is worried now because this conversation was taking place nine days before he had declared, "We're ready.")~AUTHOR NOTE
Kagaya's brows furrowed as he waited for the explanation, the air growing heavier.
"There's an unregistered Upper Moon working under Muzan," Alex continued, his voice low, deliberate.
"Her Blood Demon Art is related to space manipulation. She can manifest her abilities from within her own realm—without even being physically present in our world. She's the only one who can bypass the wisteria barriers surrounding the Corps headquarters."
Kagaya's expression darkened with concern, his hands tightening slightly. "That is… troubling," he admitted, the weight of the possibility sinking in.
"If she were to forcibly teleport all our Demon Slayers into her realm—one that's potentially crawling with Muzan's demons—it would be a slaughterhouse. We wouldn't stand a chance…"
Alex nodded grimly. He understood Kagaya's fears all too well, the nightmare scenario vivid in his mind.
The thought of a sudden biwa string twanging, only for every member of the Demon Slayer Corps to vanish into the Infinity Castle—while he was deliberately kept outside—was terrifying.
It would have dramatically increased the mortality rate, if not annihilate the Corps in one fell swoop, their blades useless against such odds.
"That's exactly why I've been training with the Hashira from day one," Alex said, this time with a reassuring smile, a spark of confidence in his eyes.
"I've marked every Demon Slayer in the Corps. If she does try to forcefully teleport them… I'll be able to follow them instantly."
Alex's smile widened as system panel appeared in front him which only he could see, the text glowing faintly in his vision.
[Minato Namikaze Template – 43% Assimilated]
[Space-Time Ninjutsu: Unlocked]
[Chakra Level: Elite Chūnin → Jōnin]
Kagaya slowly exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders, his frail frame relaxing.
"Then… I truly am relieved that you're here, Alex. I can't imagine how many of my children might've died… if we had to face Muzan without your presence," he said, his voice warm but heavy with gratitude.
Those words struck a chord in Alex, his chest tightening. He remembered the manga vividly—the brutal deaths, the valiant sacrifices, Hashira falling one after another in enemy-controlled environments, their blood staining the pages.
He'd admired their courage back then, a reader safe in his world. Now, he had the chance to make sure it didn't happen again, to rewrite their fate with his own hands.
Just as the two men sat in thoughtful silence, the peaceful atmosphere of the open courtyard was gently disturbed by the presence of a servant, who approached with steady steps, her kimono rustling softly.
"Oyakata-sama," the servant said with a bow, holding something delicately in both hands. "A letter has arrived—from the residence of the former Thunder Hashira."
Kagaya reached forward and accepted the letter with solemn grace, his fingers brushing the sealed parchment, his expression unreadable.
Alex tilted his head, his mind racing. Former Thunder Hashira? There was only one name that rang in his mind—Jigoro Kuwajima.
And that could only mean… the thing where his first direct disciple turned to the demon side, a betrayal that cut deeper than any blade.
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HIGHLIGHTS
SYSTEM SPACE – SIMULATION CHAMBER
THIRD PERSON POV
"Muhahahahahaha! Now that everyone's asleep after that insane training," Inosuke whispered to himself, eyes gleaming with wild ambition under his boar mask, the moonlight glinting off its tusks.
"I, the great Inosuke Hashibira, shall enter that white pressure cooker thing and fight the strongest enemies known to man! I will surpass everyone—even Alex!" His voice was a hushed growl, brimming with feral pride.
He puffed his chest with pride, his muscles flexing, then immediately glanced around cautiously, lowering his voice to a whisper, his mask tilting like a wary animal. "…But gotta keep it down. Can't let those weaklings wake up," he muttered, his eyes darting through the shadows of the System Space's training hall, its walls humming faintly with energy.
Tiptoeing like a sneaky raccoon raiding a kitchen, Inosuke made his way toward the tall, one of the cylindrical pods nestled deep within the Training Simulation Hall, its surface gleaming like polished obsidian.
The chamber door hissed open with a soft whoosh, a cloud of cool vapor spilling out, and without hesitation, he climbed inside. As the outer shell slid shut, the lights inside dimmed, casting him in eerie blue light as encrypted text flickered across his vision, glowing like fireflies.
{Analyzing…}
{User ID: Inosuke Hashibira – #12 Detected}
{Please Set Desired Challenge Tier}
"I wanna fight the strongest one!" he yelled without hesitation, jabbing at the air like he could punch the command into existence, his voice echoing in the confined space.
{Warning: Tier 1 opponents selected. Confirm?}
"Oi! You creepy voice-with-no-face thing—I said I wanna fight it!" he growled, unbothered by the ominous tone of the system's warning, his mask tilting defiantly.
Little did Inosuke know… somewhere in the digital matrix, the AI silently sent a prayer to his survival odds, its processors humming with concern.
{Setting Simulation…}
{User's Previous Training Regime Detected}
{Simulation Duration: 2 Days (Real World Time)}
{Automatic Nutrient Supply Activated – Every 5 Hours}
As the chamber hummed to life, a low vibration shaking the pod, Inosuke's consciousness faded, his vision blurring like ink in water. His mind sank into the simulation—his body relaxed, muscles slackening, but his spirit entered a digital realm now forming before him, vivid and unforgiving.
A vast barren wasteland stretched endlessly, the ground cracked like shattered glass, the air heavy with the scent of dust and ozone, the wind howling like a chorus of ghosts. He stood tall, his boar mask glinting under a blood-red sky, looking around with childlike wonder and raw excitement, his heart pounding with anticipation.
"I'll defeat the strongest and everyone will see!" he cackled, his voice echoing across the desolate plain, imagining the scene that would follow: Tanjiro and Zenitsu running behind him, their front teeth bucked out comically, chanting in sync,
"Aniki! Aniki! You're the strongest!" Even Nezuko bounced after them with a flag that read "KING INOSUKE!" in bold, waving it proudly.
Then, from the smoke, Alex emerged—kneeling before him, his haori billowing. "I always knew… Inosuke, King of the Mountain, would one day surpass even me," Alex said solemnly, his voice heavy with respect.
Inosuke grinned like a madman under his mask, his fantasy spiraling—until a calm, flat voice interrupted his daydream, cutting through like a blade.
"Ah. A boar monster?"
Inosuke turned toward the source of the voice—and his jaw dropped, his mask tilting in disbelief.
An adult young man with an incredibly plain face stood there nonchalantly. The wind ruffled his cape gently, but his expression didn't change, his eyes dull and unreadable.
"You… you're one of the strongest, hahahahahah?" Inosuke laughed, rolling around on the cracked ground, clutching his sides. Then he looked at the clothes the young man was wearing, his laughter turning to a cackle.
"What are you wearing? Did you fall into poop or somethin' kekeke...?" His voice was pure mockery,
his dual Nichirin Blades appearing in his hands, glowing with anticipation as his battle lust peaked, the air crackling around him.
The bald man twitched, a faint red # mark appearing on his head as he clenched his teeth ever so slightly, his calm facade cracking.
"Serious Series… Serious Punch,"
He said, his voice low.
BOOOOOOOOOM!
That was the only sound heard in the simulation for eight straight days, a cataclysmic roar that shook the digital wasteland, the ground splitting, the sky fracturing.
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Author's Note
So, how did you like the chapter? I had a blast weaving Alex and Shinobu's romance with the intense training and Inosuke's wild simulation misadventure! The mix of heartfelt moments, strategic planning, and Inosuke's cosmic breakdown was so fun to write. Please comment and share your reviews—tell me what you loved, what surprised you, or if you're Team Shinobu or Team Cara (or both, no judgment)! Your feedback fuels the story, so let's hear it!