Chapter 312: Shinobu: Be My Adopted Daughter, Gunilla
Memories surged forth.
Back before she had joined the Organization, before she became a Claymore—
she had been nothing more than a terrified girl, used by a Yoma as a toy for torment and disguise.
Her mind and body were ravaged, traumatized beyond repair.
Until she was saved by a Claymore named Teresa.
The Organization ranked its warriors from No.1 to No.47 based on strength.
Teresa had been No.1 of her generation—the strongest Claymore.
So powerful that she never had to release her Yoma power no matter how fearsome the monster.
She always wore a calm smile. They called her Teresa of the Faint Smile.
She was even considered by the Organization to be the strongest Claymore of all time.
She should have been a loyal servant to the Organization—
But for Gunilla's sake, she killed a band of raiders who pillaged a village and tried to kill her, violating the Organization's ironclad laws.
She was branded a traitor.
Until this very moment,
Gunilla had never understood why Teresa, who had done nothing wrong, had to die.
The raiders were the villains.
They looted, murdered, kidnapped her. They deserved justice.
Yet the Organization ignored all that—
branding Teresa, the one who had protected the innocent and never done evil, as a traitor worthy of death.
Shinobu's words just now—
they were a hammer shattering that confusion inside her chest.
"We never learned those survival techniques… because the Organization always treated us as tools."
Gunilla's expression was blank as she spoke.
Each Claymore had demon flesh fused into her body.
If they overused that power, they would fall into "Awakening"—
transforming into the very monsters they fought.
They were assigned numbers.
Their weapons contained a hidden "black letter"—a death notice.
When a Claymore felt herself losing control, she would send the letter to another to be slain.
It was suicide by protocol.
Self-destruction like a broken weapon.
They were never trained to survive
because they weren't meant to. They weren't treated as human.
They weren't even treated as demons—just cold, disposable swords.
Once broken, they were discarded. New ones were forged quickly.
Rip.
Gunilla tore open her white bodysuit,
revealing a grotesque wound stretching from her chest down her torso, as if her body had been cut in half.
It was stitched together with crude black thread.
Through the seams, one could vaguely see her internal organs pulsing
and a mass of putrid, demonic flesh.
"This is our power against Yoma."
Gunilla didn't flinch as she exposed herself.
She continued without emotion:
"The Organization stuffs demon flesh into our bodies. Those who survive become Claymores."
"This cut? It'll never heal. Because of the Yoma flesh."
"The Yoma flesh constantly erodes our human will.
The more we use that power, the closer we are to losing ourselves."
"Until, one day, we become what we were trained to kill."
A flicker of sorrow appeared in her eyes.
"Most Claymores don't even make it that far. They die fighting.
Either killed by a Yoma, or by their own sisters."
Shinobu was stunned.
She had suspected something like this,
but hearing it from Gunilla's mouth still shook her.
What followed was fury.
Though her face remained smiling, her voice was ice cold.
"Someone who disregards life so completely… dares call himself a leader?"
Compared to Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the Claymore leader looked utterly monstrous.
Every member of the Demon Slayer Corps
had joined out of personal tragedy—family lost to demons, hatred in their hearts, and a will to fight.
And most of them were still children.
If Ubuyashiki had wanted to,
he could have molded them into numb killing tools, like Gunilla. It would've saved resources.
But he didn't.
He was willing to drain centuries of his clan's wealth
to protect those children's safety.
The contrast was night and day.
Suddenly, Shinobu asked,
"If that's the case… Gunilla, would you like to join the Demon Slayer Corps?"
It was a bold move.
Not an order from her master—just something she decided after hearing Gunilla's story.
"Betray the Organization?"
Gunilla's expression changed. She glanced around nervously.
Seeing no black-clad enforcers, she relaxed slightly.
Her voice lowered, conflicted.
"If a Claymore betrays the Organization, they send a single-digit warrior to execute them."
"I'm not worthy of joining you. In my world, I'm the lowest-ranked Claymore…"
She looked downcast.
Single-digit Claymores were terrifying.
She didn't want to drag Shinobu—or her seemingly perfect organization—into that kind of danger.
"Gunilla."
Shinobu stood on tiptoe and gently patted the blonde warrior's head—
a comical mismatch of height.
"Don't underestimate the Demon Slayer Corps.
Our master and even the Stone Hashira have grown unimaginably strong thanks to the Reincarnation Game."
"And you don't have to betray the Organization."
"This will just be our little secret. I'll report to Master and send you a Kasugai Crow.
If anything ever happens, you'll always be able to reach us."
Her eyes were filled with warmth.
Though neither of them was very old,
as Shinobu looked at Gunilla, she felt like she was seeing Kanao—and even herself.
Back then,
Kanao had been just like this—blank, broken, unable to cry or feel pain.
She and her sister saved that girl.
When her sister was killed by an Upper Moon,
she must have worn the same expression Gunilla did now—longing for salvation… and revenge.
Spiritual resonance is a strange thing.
Some people spend a lifetime together and never feel it.
Others meet once and share a connection as deep as blood.
Shinobu, carrying on her sister's legacy,
felt like she understood exactly what her sister had once felt.
If her sister were still here,
she'd support this decision too, wouldn't she?
"Shinobu… Onee-san…"
At some point, Gunilla's tears were falling freely.
Her voice was hoarse.
"Gunilla… sweet girl. From now on, you're not alone."
Shinobu gently embraced the trembling warrior.
After a while—
She began teaching Gunilla the basic Breathing Technique of the Demon Slayer Corps.
"This method will improve your body.
Even without using your demon powers, you'll become stronger."
"Until I find a proper way to suppress that Yoma corruption—
don't use your powers unless it's a life-or-death situation. Got it?"
She tousled Gunilla's hair.
Always standing on her toes, her legs were starting to ache.
She looked up at the tall girl enviously.
Even without demon flesh,
someone of Gunilla's build would gain incredible strength from breathing techniques.
Gunilla wiped her tears and nodded firmly.
"I'll train hard, Shinobu-onee-san."
She had made her decision.
Not just to avenge Teresa—
But to protect Shinobu.
To never let such tragedy happen again.
For that, she needed the strength to cut down all monsters.
And as her resolve solidified—
A faint glow appeared,
condensing into a black Game Invitation scroll that landed on the tavern counter.
It radiated an inexplicable allure.
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