Chapter 45: Muzan Steps Into the Light
Deep within the shadows of the Infinity Castle, Muzan Kibutsuji stood motionless. The silence was suffocating, the only sound being the crackling of his own volatile aura. His claws dug into his palm, black blood dripping onto the polished floor.
For centuries, he had held absolute power over demons and humans alike. His existence was untouchable.
Until now.
The image of Saitama—that plain, bald man with an unbothered expression—haunted Muzan's mind like a recurring nightmare. Upper Moons reduced to playthings. Techniques perfected over centuries, rendered useless by casual flicks of the finger.
"This world has grown… ridiculous," Muzan whispered, his voice venomous.
Behind him, Nakime hesitated to even breathe. "Shall I—"
Muzan's gaze alone silenced her. "No. I will deal with him myself."
---
The Hashira's Celebration (and Panic)
Meanwhile, back at the battlefield, the Hashira had set up a temporary camp. The destruction was massive, but the mood was surprisingly light.
Tengen was grilling meat over an open fire, humming a tune. "I never thought I'd live to see Upper Moons running away from us!"
Mitsuri was sitting beside Saitama, her eyes practically sparkling. "Saitama-san, you're so strong! Are you sure you're even human?"
Saitama shrugged, gnawing lazily on a skewer. "Pretty sure I am. But I guess I worked out too much or something."
Sanemi, arms crossed, still couldn't fully accept it. "There's no way just push-ups and running could do that."
Rengoku laughed heartily. "It doesn't matter how! What matters is that we have a new ally — one who could change the fate of the Demon Slayer Corps forever!"
Giyuu quietly sipped his tea. "It feels… too easy."
That comment silenced everyone. He wasn't wrong. Killing two Upper Moons back-to-back should've felt like a legendary victory. But somehow, with Saitama around, it felt like cheating.
And in the quiet of the night, that uneasy feeling only grew stronger.
---
A Presence Like No Other
Suddenly, the sky itself shuddered.
The air thickened, almost impossible to breathe. Trees groaned, bending unnaturally. A deep, pulsating pressure flooded the entire area.
Every Hashira immediately stood up, hands on their swords.
"This feeling…" Rengoku's smile vanished.
Sanemi gritted his teeth. "No way… this can't be…"
Emerging from the darkness, stepping directly into the moonlight, was Muzan Kibutsuji himself.
Unlike before, he wasn't hiding in shadows or sending others to do his work. This time, the Demon King had come personally.
He stood tall, his alabaster skin almost glowing. His crimson eyes swept across the battlefield, landing directly on Saitama.
"So… you are the bald nuisance," Muzan spoke calmly, but the power in his voice made even the ground tremble.
Saitama stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. "Oh, you're the boss guy, huh?"
The Hashira formed a protective line in front of Saitama, swords drawn.
"Stay back!" Rengoku roared. "We can't let Muzan near you!"
Saitama blinked. "Huh? Why not?"
"Because he's the source of all demons! The ultimate evil!" Mitsuri explained, panic in her voice.
Saitama scratched his head. "Oh. Cool."
Muzan stepped forward. Each footstep cracked the earth. "You… do not fear me?"
Saitama yawned. "Not really. You kinda look like a fancy magician."
Muzan's face twitched — the first crack in his perfect mask of control. "You think this is a joke?"
Saitama tilted his head. "I mean… kinda?"
The Hashira were frozen between awe and terror. Nobody had ever spoken to Muzan like that and lived.
---
The Battle Begins
Without warning, Muzan's arm stretched out like a whip, his claws aimed directly at Saitama's heart.
"Careful!" Mitsuri screamed.
THWACK.
Saitama caught the clawed arm mid-air with his bare hand.
"Whoa. Stretchy." Saitama gave it a gentle tug — and accidentally sent Muzan flying into a mountain like a ragdoll.
The Hashira: "…"
Muzan burst out of the rubble, no longer calm. His face twisted with hatred and disbelief. "You… how are you this strong?!"
Saitama shrugged. "Training."
Muzan's flesh twisted as hundreds of tendrils shot out, each sharper than blades. Blood Demon Art — Black Thorn Labyrinth.
The sky darkened further as the tendrils rained down like a storm.
Saitama sighed. "Serious Series: Serious Punch."
The air itself shattered as Saitama's punch vaporized every single tendril before they could even touch the ground. Muzan's eyes widened, sheer disbelief washing over him.
"This power… it shouldn't exist in this world," Muzan hissed.
Saitama stepped forward, cracking his neck. "I'm kinda bored again. Can we wrap this up?"
---
Muzan's True Form
Realizing that holding back was useless, Muzan's body began to mutate. Multiple heads, countless arms, wings, tails — a grotesque fusion of all demon forms he had ever created.
"I am the perfect being!" Muzan's voice echoed in a hundred different tones. "I am eternal! I cannot die!"
Saitama scratched his chin. "Man, you guys talk a lot."
He clenched his fist.
"Serious Series: Serious Consecutive Punches."
What followed could only be described as a massacre. Each punch shattered part of Muzan's form — heads exploding, limbs disintegrating — faster than Muzan could regenerate.
The Hashira could barely keep up with their eyes.
"Is… is this really happening?" Sanemi whispered.
Even Giyuu, usually calm, was visibly shaken. "This is beyond anything I ever imagined."
---
Muzan's Last Gamble
Shattered, broken, barely clinging to life, Muzan's form shrank back into a humanoid shape. His voice was a whisper. "If I die… all demons die with me."
Saitama scratched his head. "Yeah, okay."
"No! Wait!" Muzan screamed. "Do you understand what that means?! It means Nezuko—"
Saitama flicked him on the forehead.
Muzan exploded into dust.
The Hashira were left in stunned silence.
"What about Nezuko?" Saitama asked.
The others exchanged glances. "Actually… Nezuko's not really a demon anymore. So… she's fine?"
Saitama blinked. "Oh. That's convenient."
---
Aftermath
The sky cleared. The air lightened. The reign of demons ended in a single night.
Saitama stretched. "Alright. I'm heading home. My favorite show's on."
The Hashira stood, speechless, as Saitama casually walked off — the man who punched the Demon King out of existence like it was just another Tuesday.
---
End of Chapter 45