Chapter 33: Whispers in the Dark

Deep within a forgotten castle hidden in eternal night, the air was thick with tension. Inside the eerie halls of Infinity Castle, the Upper Moons had gathered — a rare event that only occurred when Muzan Kibutsuji himself had something important to say.

But today, Muzan had not yet appeared. Instead, the demons whispered amongst themselves, each one puzzled and unsettled by the same rumor.

"Have you heard?" Upper Moon Six, Gyutaro, leaned against the wall, his sickles resting casually in his hands. "A new Demon Slayer… bald as an egg… punches demons out of existence."

His sister, Daki, scoffed. "Bald? Who cares? Probably some weakling monk."

"No," Akaza spoke up, eyes narrowing. "I heard the same thing from a Lower Moon before they were… erased. Not killed. Not decapitated. Erased. Like they never existed at all."

"That's ridiculous." Doma, Upper Moon Two, smiled with his usual unsettling cheerfulness. "Even if the Slayer Corps had some new weapon, they can't bypass Muzan-sama's gift. Our regeneration is absolute."

"Except this guy doesn't use a weapon," Kokushibo's deep voice silenced the room. The most powerful Upper Moon stood with his arms crossed, his six eyes filled with something rare — caution. "He uses his fists. No Nichirin Blade, no Breathing Technique, just… raw power."

"Impossible." Doma's smile twitched. "No human could do that. Not even Yoriichi could fight without his blade."

"And yet," Akaza muttered, "here we are, talking about him."

The air grew colder as Muzan's presence filled the room. The demons immediately knelt, all chatter ceasing.

"I do not pay you to gossip like foolish children," Muzan's voice was soft, but each word carried the weight of death. "What is this nonsense about a bald Slayer?"

Kokushibo spoke first. "It seems to be true, Muzan-sama. Reports from our informants within the Slayer Corps indicate that a man with no sword, no training, and no breathing techniques has been wiping out demons with his bare hands."

Muzan's crimson eyes narrowed, glowing with dangerous curiosity. "What kind of human possesses such absurd power?"

No one had an answer.

"Is it a new Breathing Style?" Muzan asked.

"No," Akaza shook his head. "It's not Breathing. It's just… punching."

Muzan's expression twisted with irritation. "How can mere punches erase my demons from existence?"

Gyokko, Upper Moon Five, wriggled nervously. "Perhaps it's some forbidden martial art?"

"It's not martial arts," Kokushibo said firmly. "This power… it's something else entirely."

Muzan's patience thinned. "I want him found. Now. Send out every Lower Moon remaining. If they fail, the Upper Moons will move. I will not tolerate this… anomaly threatening my perfect world."

The demons bowed deeply, but unease hung heavy in the air. Even the most arrogant of them — Doma — felt something cold crawl down his spine.

Because the one thing demons feared most was the unknown. And this bald man… was a walking mystery.

**

Meanwhile, at the Slayer Corps estate, Saitama slurped his soup loudly, sitting among the Hashira like it was just another Tuesday.

"Is this tofu? It's pretty good," Saitama mumbled through a mouthful.

Tengen stared at him like he was an alien. "You're eating like you didn't just break all of our traditions and make half the Hashira cry today."

"Eh?" Saitama blinked. "You guys are too serious. I'm just here to punch stuff."

"That's the problem," Shinobu sighed. "You're too simple."

"But it works," Saitama shrugged.

Tanjiro smiled weakly. "He does have a point. Simple… but effective."

As the sun set behind the mountains, neither Saitama nor the Hashira realized that across the land, shadows were moving — and Muzan's army was already coming for him.

The demons wanted answers.

They would get only fists.

---

End of Chapter 33