Chapter 25: Muzan’s Worst Nightmare

Deep beneath the earth, hidden within the shifting maze created by Nakime's biwa, Muzan sat alone in a chamber bathed in crimson light. His fingers drummed slowly against the arm of his throne, his nails making a soft click-click-click sound that echoed through the silent hall.

A minute ago, Muzan had lost contact with over a hundred demons. Not killed in battle, not wounded — just gone, as if they had never existed.

It wasn't even a fight. It was a massacre.

For centuries, Muzan had faced strong Demon Slayers. He had battled Hashira wielding techniques that could bend reality itself. But this? This was something else.

This bald man — Saitama — didn't fit into any logic Muzan knew. No breathing technique, no nichirin sword, no blood demon art. Just sheer, raw, unfair power.

"…This is a joke," Muzan muttered, trying to convince himself. "It's a cosmic joke."

But deep down, in the darkest corner of his mind, Muzan knew — this was fear. The same fear that drove him to hide in the shadows, to kill anyone who knew his face, to wipe out even the tiniest threats before they could grow.

And this time, the threat was already fully grown.

Suddenly, Nakime's biwa chimed. The wall before him shifted, opening into a window that showed the bald man once again.

Saitama sat cross-legged, poking at the ashes of his ruined fish with a stick. His face held no malice, no pride, not even excitement. Just… mild disappointment.

"Man, I really wanted to eat that," Saitama mumbled.

Next to him, Tanjiro was still sitting in complete shock, sword limp in his hands. Zenitsu lay flat like a corpse, muttering something about "bald gods" and "meaningless training arcs." Inosuke had climbed halfway up a tree, unsure if he should fight Saitama or worship him.

Only Nezuko was truly unbothered, happily clapping her hands at the glowing stars in the sky, as if Saitama had personally punched the night into submission.

Muzan's eye twitched. This is the man who destroyed my army?

This ordinary-looking bald fool?!

"…No. I refuse." Muzan stood up, his towering presence filling the room. "I refuse to fear something so ridiculous."

With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the remaining Upper Moons — the ones too cowardly or too smart to have rushed in earlier. Gyokko, Hantengu, and a newly appointed Upper Moon who looked like a stitched-together mass of flesh and eyes.

"Listen carefully," Muzan said, his voice sharp and final. "You will find him. You will eliminate him. I don't care how many techniques you unleash or how many innocent towns you destroy in the process. This bald man… this Saitama… must not live to see the sunrise."

The demons bowed, though their faces were pale. They had seen the footage from Nakime's visions. None of them believed they could win.

But refusing Muzan was a quicker death.

---

Meanwhile, at the Camp

"Alright," Saitama stood up, dusting off his cape. "Guess I should go find a bathhouse or something. I smell like demon guts."

"Wait!" Tanjiro jumped to his feet. "Saitama-san, we still need your help! Muzan will definitely send stronger demons after you!"

"Stronger than those weaklings?" Saitama raised an eyebrow. "Doubt it."

Zenitsu grabbed his sleeve. "Please! I'm too young and beautiful to die!"

Inosuke hopped down from his tree. "I say we march straight to Muzan's hideout and make him pay for ruining our dinner!"

"Do you even know where Muzan's hideout is?" Tanjiro sighed.

"Nope! But I'll punch every tree until he shows up!" Inosuke declared proudly.

Saitama shrugged. "Eh, why not. Got nothing better to do. My apartment's back in City Z, so I'm kinda stuck here anyway."

Nezuko nodded enthusiastically, offering Saitama her tiny fist for a fist bump.

Saitama gently tapped his fist to hers.

"Team Bald and Bamboo Box Girl," he said with a small smile.

Tanjiro's shoulders slumped. "We're really bad at naming teams."

Suddenly, a horrific aura swept through the forest, chilling the air like a storm of death. The shadows twisted unnaturally, and from the darkness stepped Gyokko — his twisted, vase-covered body writhing with serpentine limbs.

Following him came Hantengu, his terrified old man form shaking violently… but behind him stood his clones, already in battle stances.

And then came the new guy, a stitched-together monstrosity with far too many arms and legs, his eyes stacked on top of each other like a tower of fear.

Zenitsu screamed. "WHY ARE THEY ALL HERE AT ONCE?!"

Tanjiro drew his sword, sweat forming on his brow. "Upper Moons… three of them at once…"

Inosuke cracked his knuckles. "Perfect! More heads for my collection!"

Saitama scratched his cheek. "So, who are these clowns?"

"They're… incredibly dangerous!" Tanjiro said. "Each one is a deadly Upper Moon! Even Hashira struggle to fight them!"

"Oh," Saitama said. "Okay."

Hantengu immediately started sobbing. "P-Please don't hurt meeeee!"

Saitama sighed. "I'm not gonna hurt some crying old dude."

Suddenly, Hantengu's clones rushed in — Sekido, Karaku, Urogi, and Aizetsu, each one radiating killing intent.

"Okay," Saitama corrected, rolling up his sleeve. "But I'll slap the annoying ones."

The battle — if you could call it that — lasted exactly eight seconds.

Saitama slapped Sekido. The lightning demon turned into mist.

He flicked Karaku's leaf fan back at him. The demon exploded.

Urogi tried to fly. Saitama casually yanked him down by the leg and used him to beat Aizetsu into the dirt. Both evaporated on impact.

Hantengu fainted from fear.

Gyokko tried to summon his water art. Saitama kicked him through three mountains.

The stitched-up new Upper Moon didn't even get to introduce himself before Saitama stared at him. The sheer pressure made him combust.

Zenitsu fainted. Inosuke just stared in awe.

Tanjiro slowly sheathed his sword, deciding it wasn't needed anymore.

"Alright," Saitama said. "Bathhouse time."

Nezuko clapped again.

---

Back at Muzan's Hideout

Nakime's biwa chimed. Muzan saw everything.

His hands shook.

His immortal hands shook.

"No…" Muzan whispered. "No. No. No. No. NO!"

The screen shattered into blood and shadows as Muzan's scream echoed through the fortress.

The bald man wasn't a threat.

He was a calamity.

---

End of Chapter 25