I, the Sound Hashira, Burned Down the Red-Light District and Got a Vision!

"This guy! He actually set the place on fire!" Kyojuro Rengoku exclaimed, breaking into a cold sweat as realization dawned.

"I see," Giyu Tomioka said with a nod.

By starting a fire, unrelated civilians would be forced to flee. Though some residents of the red-light district would stay behind to extinguish the flames, the strategy would minimize casualties during the battle against the demons.

"He… He really just set the whole place ablaze…" Kanae Kocho was stunned speechless.

"Amitabha…" Gyomei Himejima muttered under his breath, chanting his prayers repeatedly.

"What are you all standing around for? If we wait any longer, the entertainment district will burn to the ground, and the demons might escape!" Sanemi Shinazugawa barked before charging at full speed toward Kyogoku House.

The entertainment district was vast, but it wouldn't take more than a few minutes to traverse it from one end to the other.

"Let's go!" Rengoku, the eldest among them, called out and quickly followed.

Giyu Tomioka, Gyomei Himejima, Obanai Iguro, Shinobu Kocho, and Kanae Kocho—seven Hashira-level demon slayers, including two who had obtained Visions and surpassed even Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the creator of the breathing techniques five centuries ago—abandoned all pretense of honor and rushed toward the weakest of the Upper Moons: Upper Rank Six.

"Put out the fire! Hurry, call the town magistrate! We must catch the arsonist!"

"Get water! Quickly!"

"You there, help us!"

"Protect the courtesans and escort them out!"

The district was engulfed in flames. Nearly every block had been deliberately set ablaze. Frantic calls for help filled the air as the fire spread. Oiran and geisha covered their heads and fled in panic, while their patrons, who had come seeking pleasure, descended into chaos and scattered in every direction.

"The shopkeepers here probably hate me enough to tear me apart," Tengen Uzui muttered as he watched the pandemonium unfold, his expression calm despite the chaos.

"Still, no matter how despicable the means, if it's used to save lives, it's a good deed. After all, protecting others doesn't depend on whether the methods are noble or underhanded," he mused.

It was just material damage. As long as people survived, they could rebuild. Everyone deserved the chance to live.

As he finished speaking and prepared to regroup with the others, a crisp sound came from near his feet.

Tengen looked down, stunned.

Lying there was a glass orb, encased in an ornate golden frame. The orb was a pale lavender hue, with a striking pattern resembling sound waves etched inside.

He bent down to pick it up. The moment it was in his hand, the orb emitted a soft, radiant glow.

"Heh… Hahaha! Even my flamboyant methods have earned the favor of the gods?" Tengen burst into laughter.

"What's meant to be mine is mine, and what isn't won't come no matter how much I ask for it!"

"The power of sound… It complements my breathing techniques perfectly. Thank you, Divine Lord, for this honor."

Stretching his arms toward the sky, Tengen grinned widely, his joy unrestrained.

Watching the live feed from Celestia, Noah smiled faintly.

"This Vision wasn't even distributed by me—it was automatically granted by the Human Realm Force system," he remarked.

The Human Realm Force system had begun to take root in the Demon Slayer world.

Tengen's thoughts and actions had played a decisive role in protecting humanity in this world, triggering the system's conditions for granting a Vision.

With half of the Demon Slayer world's authority now under his control, Noah could draw heavily on its rules to manufacture more Visions.

Kyogoku House

"What's going on, madam? Why is everyone putting out fires?"

Daki, dressed in the elaborate finery of an oiran, was sitting before a bronze mirror, reapplying her makeup. Her exquisite face was marred by an impatient scowl.

"Well, Warabihime, forget about your makeup for now! You need to evacuate outside. If you wait any longer, the fire will reach here!"

The madam, wringing her hands anxiously, was unnerved by Warabihime's eerily calm demeanor. Unlike other geisha, who were panic-stricken and fleeing for their lives, Warabihime appeared wholly unconcerned.

For a long time, the madam had harbored doubts about Warabihime. Her cruelty and coldness seemed utterly inhuman.

Over the years, Kyogoku House had thrived because of her, but at the same time, more than thirty young women had met tragic ends—some committing suicide, others fleeing, and most succumbing to Warabihime's abuse.

Her detached demeanor was inhuman, and now, faced with this enormous fire, her priority was not her own safety but her appearance.

She… she might not be human at all.

"Tch. If the fire's about to spread, then go and put it out! I'm the oiran1 here. My living quarters should be your top priority, don't you think, madam?" Warabihime's annoyed tone was matched by a sharp, sidelong glare.

"But…"

The madam froze, cold sweat trickling down her back. She recalled an old story she'd heard from an elderly woman at the teahouse when she was a child.

"No buts. Don't forget, madam, that this establishment has prospered only because of me." Warabihime's cold eyes pierced the madam like daggers.

"Y-yes… of course…" the madam stammered, nodding nervously.

The resemblance was uncanny—the cruel, cold-blooded oiran who tilted her head and glared when displeased. The madam remembered the story too vividly.

As she prepared to flee the room, heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. She turned to see a scar-covered man with a fierce expression and a long sword entering.

"W-who are you? W-what do you want? And… and why do you have a sword? Let's talk this out!"

The madam's voice trembled as she forced a sycophantic smile, trying to placate the stranger. It wasn't uncommon for disgruntled patrons to act out violently in the red-light district.

"You should leave. The woman behind you is a monster that eats people," Sanemi said, his eyes locked on Warabihime, whose expression was twisting unnaturally as the sashes on her body began to writhe like snakes.

"Ah!" The madam glanced at Warabihime's shadow on the wall, which had contorted into something monstrous. Screaming, she scrambled out of the room in terror.

"That sword… and that aura. You're a demon slayer," Warabihime sneered as her lavish attire unraveled into writhing, serpentine sashes. Her painted lips curled into a sharp smile, revealing pointed fangs.

Her left eye bore the kanji for Upper Rank, while her right eye showed the number Six.

"And not just any demon slayer—one of the Hashira, I presume."

"So, you've found me here. The fire… that was your doing, wasn't it?"

"The demon I'm after is your brother. You can step aside now," Sanemi growled. Without waiting for her response, he lunged forward.

Before Daki could react, her head, torso, arms, and legs were severed in a flurry of strikes, her dismembered body scattering across the room.

"Huh?"

Her severed head landed on the floor, her expression frozen in shock.

"Huh, what? If you're really an Upper Rank, get your pathetic excuse for a brother out here before I crush your head."

Sanemi planted his boot on Daki's head, grinding it halfway into the floorboards.

"How dare you… step on my sister's head…"

A rasping, grating voice echoed as Daki's severed torso swelled grotesquely. In mere moments, her scrawny brother emerged, fully formed.

In that instant, a crimson crescent moon gleamed menacingly before Sanemi's eyes.

Clang!

The crimson crescent of Gyutaro's attack, aimed to tear through Sanemi, shattered in a flash of blade light.

Vrrr!

Sanemi's Nichirin blade hummed with vibrations from the impact.

That strike had been incredibly powerful—had he not employed a deft deflection technique, the blade might have snapped.

Even with the knowledge of Gyutaro's abilities, it was clear that a single Hashira alone could not secure victory against an Upper Rank demon.

"Oh~ not bad," Gyutaro rasped, his skeletal frame exuding a menacing energy as he gripped his flesh-crafted scythes. His voice, raspy and grating, slipped between teeth as sharp as shark fangs. "That was a full-powered strike, and you blocked it. Impressive. You're a bit tougher than the other Hashira I've eaten."

"Brother! Wuuuuu!"

The dismembered head of Daki wailed beneath Sanemi's boot. "This horrible demon slayer chopped me into pieces and stomped on my head! Wuuuuu! He barged into my room and started wreaking havoc! Kill him, brother, kill him now!"

"Brother—Wuuuuu! So mean! I'm innocent! I was just sitting in my room, not doing anything bad!"

Gyutaro ground his teeth audibly, a chilling sound filling the room as he listened to his sister's cries.

"My poor sister, so mistreated…" he snarled, his serrated teeth flashing as his eyes narrowed. "She hasn't done a single wrong thing, and yet you invaded her room to torment her?"

He bent forward, his body taut like a predator ready to pounce. "She suffered so much at your hands. I'll collect the debt in full, slayer. When you die, make sure you count the price you've paid."

He crouched lower, preparing to attack. "Listen carefully—my name is—"

"Shut up! I don't care what your name is. Get out here already!" Sanemi roared. "Wind Breathing: Eighth Form - Primary Gale Slash!"

Not waiting for Gyutaro to finish, Sanemi unleashed his attack with full force. A ferocious whirlwind surrounded his Nichirin blade as he aimed for Gyutaro's torso.

"You fool!" Gyutaro sneered as his body hurtled through the air, smashing through a wall. Even as he was flung back, he flashed a mocking grin. "You didn't even aim for my neck. That's your big mistake."

As he flew backward, his skeletal arms swung his bloody scythes toward Sanemi's exposed back.

But just as the scythe's edge neared, another Nichirin blade, this one with deep blue patterns, intercepted the attack.

"Hmm?" Gyutaro's pupils contracted in alarm.

BOOM!

In the next instant, his body smashed into another burning building across the street, the flaming structure collapsing atop him with a thunderous crash.

"You okay?" Giyu asked, landing gracefully beside Sanemi.

"Do I look like I'd have a problem with the weakest of the Upper Ranks?" Sanemi spat, his sharp gaze fixed on the burning wreckage.

"Two Hashira? There are two of you here?"

The rubble exploded outward, and Gyutaro emerged from the flames, his grotesque features illuminated by the fire's glow. His already grotesque visage twisted into an even more horrific snarl as he surveyed the scene.

"What…"

He froze, his predatory eyes darting around, taking in the figures surrounding him.

"Oh… such a pitiful Upper Rank demon. You've lived for centuries—how many people have you devoured? How much suffering have you caused? Amitabha," muttered Gyomei Himejima, his sightless white eyes filled with tears.

In his massive hands, he held a chained battle axe and a flail, their steel links clinking ominously as they swayed.

"Upper Rank demon... this is my first encounter. Their strength is truly terrifying."

Kyojuro slowly drew his Nichirin sword from its scabbard, his expression serious as he prepared for battle.

"Mm. Very strong. Feels stronger than me," Giyu remarked in his usual stoic tone, his hand steady on his weapon.

"Heh, it seems I've arrived at the perfect time," Tengen declared, patting the gleaming Vision affixed to his waist.

"What?! That's a Vision!" Obanai Iguro exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight.

"Hah? Sound Hashira! You actually have a Vision?" Sanemi turned sharply, staring at the ornament in disbelief.

"Amitabha... Alas, I cannot see it. How deeply sorrowful," Gyomei Himejima murmured as tears streamed down his blind eyes.

"…Congratulations, Lord Uzui," Kanae Kocho offered with a kind smile. "The gods must have recognized the beauty of your wish."

"A Vision, huh? That's something to admire, but I'm satisfied. My greatest wish has already been granted," Rengoku remarked warmly, a bright smile crossing his face. "Now, let's rid this world of these demons so we can return to our peaceful lives."

"That's the plan." Uzui laughed, his confidence on full display. "With all of us here, this fight won't take long."

"Yeah, we'll finish him off. No way he's getting away with all of us around," Sanemi growled.

Gyutaro's eyes darted around the group, his sharp teeth grinding together in visible frustration.

"One... two... three... four... five... six... seven! Seven Hashira?!" Gyutaro's voice grew increasingly frantic. "Why are there so many of you? Did you all plan this in advance?! What kind of ambush is this?!"

For the first time since becoming an Upper Rank demon, Gyutaro felt genuine panic clawing at him.

He had never faced more than two Hashira at once in the past. With Daki's assistance, they had always managed to overcome such battles.

But this was different. Seven Hashira? It was overwhelming. Even if he could handle several of them, he would have no chance of protecting his sister.

And he knew Daki couldn't survive a direct confrontation with one Hashira, let alone this many.

"I'll head to the underground tunnels to rescue the captured women. We can't risk her devouring them in desperation," Obanai Iguro declared, darting off toward Kyogoku House, disappearing in an instant.

"I'll restrain the girl to prevent her escape."

Kanae Kocho moved swiftly, launching a flurry of needles coated in wisteria poison toward Daki's dismembered body.

Thunk, thunk, thunk!

The sound of needles piercing the floor and flesh filled the air as Daki's fragmented body was pinned in place, her limbs rendered immobile.

"Ahhh! Damn you, slayer! What kind of poison is this?!" Daki screamed, her voice echoing through the burning wreckage. "My body won't regenerate!"

"Brother! What are you doing?! Kill them! Hurry and kill them all!"

"Don't touch my sister!"

Hearing Daki's cries, Gyutaro's fury exploded. He charged toward the nearest Hashira, his bloodied scythes gleaming with malice.

"Blood Demon Art: Rotating Circular Slashes - Flying Blood Sickles!"

Gyutaro's emaciated body trembled as veins bulged across his skin, and blood erupted from his flesh in violent torrents. The spray coalesced into countless crescent-shaped blades, thin and sharp as a razor's edge.

The attack covered a full 360 degrees, leaving no openings.

"Try to block this, Hashira!" Gyutaro roared, his voice echoing with desperation. "This will buy me the time I need to escape with my sister!"