The night was suffocatingly still.
Clutching the double-barreled shotgun tightly in his hands, Genya Shinazugawa moved forward step by step.
Before long, under the faint glow of the moon, he spotted a figure crouched ahead. The sound of chewing echoed softly through the darkness.
Even in the dim light, he could make out a human arm lying on the ground.
So this was what demons did… they devoured people like this—grotesque, unforgivable.
Genya said nothing. He simply tightened his grip on the shotgun and advanced silently.
Crack.
His foot snapped a twig by accident, the sharp sound breaking the silence.
The demon froze mid-meal and lifted its head. A pair of crimson eyes locked onto him.
"A demon slayer?" it rasped, its voice hoarse and cruel.
Genya's hands tightened around the shotgun.
This was his first hunt. There was fear—of course there was—but stronger still was the surge of anger rising in his chest as he watched the demon devour a human. The image dragged up memories he could never forget… of his own mother, once kind and loving, reduced to something just like this.
"You filthy thing…" he muttered through gritted teeth.
At first, the demon remained cautious. But soon it realized Genya was alone—and worse, that he didn't seem particularly strong.
"Food that walks right up to me?" The demon licked its lips, its crimson eyes gleaming with malice. "I wonder how you'll taste. I've never tried a demon slayer before… perhaps you'll be even more delicious."
With a low growl, it stomped the ground. The earth thudded beneath its feet as its grotesque body launched forward, closing the distance in an instant.
Genya raised the shotgun.
His heart was pounding. His hands trembled—just slightly—but he didn't move. He stood his ground, gripping the weapon tighter and tighter.
"Frozen in fear?"
Seeing that Genya still stood there like a fool, holding what looked like a harmless firewood stick even as the demon was about to reach him, a sneer appeared in the demon's crimson eyes.
At least draw the Nichirin Sword at your waist!
He really is paralyzed with fear.
With such cowardice, you dare to hunt demons?
A cruel smile curled the demon's lips. Its speed didn't change. In its mind, it was already imagining how it would devour this delicious meal before it.
The demon's figure drew closer.
Closer and closer.
That horrible face, still stained with fresh crimson blood at the corners of its mouth, became clearer under the moonlight with every passing second.
A flicker of fear rose in Genya's heart.
But almost immediately, he forced that fear deep down.
In that moment, a thought flashed through his mind: Will I die?
But then he clenched his teeth. From the moment he decided to walk the path of demon hunting, he had already prepared himself for death. What was there to be afraid of?
"I won't let him down… and I won't stop here. I'll go further. I'll stand beside my brother… and hunt demons together."
Murmuring silently to himself, the boy's gaze grew ever more resolute.
His hands on the shotgun grew steadier. His eyes watched quietly as the demon's figure advanced closer, its hideous face becoming clearer and clearer before him.
BANG—!
Just as the demon closed to within two or three meters, its horrifying form already lunging at him, Genya finally pulled the trigger. The bullets blasted out from both barrels in an instant.
The sudden gunshot startled even the attacking demon for a split second. Then it saw the terrifying bullets hurtling toward it. At such close range, there was almost no way to dodge.
The bullets struck the demon's head almost instantly. They tore through its flesh, pierced the bone, and sent brain matter and blood flying from its head along with the projectiles.
The double-barreled shotgun—a weapon that sacrificed range for devastating close-quarters power. It had nearly blown half the demon's face away.
"Ow... ow, it hurts! It hurts so much!"
The demon had never imagined that the stick-like weapon in the boy's hands could unleash such devastating power. For the first time, fear crept into its mind.
The only consolation was that this weapon, terrifying as it was, did not carry the sun-infused energy of a Nichirin Sword. It could wound—but not kill.
In that instant, Genya had already dropped the shotgun.
He drew his Nichirin Sword and rushed forward, raising the blade high before bringing it down toward the demon's mangled head, intending to end the fight in one decisive strike.
Under the moonlight, the blade gleamed coldly.
But just as it was about to sever the demon's neck, the creature reacted through its pain, throwing up an arm to block.
The sword sliced through flesh with ease—but when it struck bone, it stopped.
There wasn't enough force to carry it through.
Without mastery of any Breathing Style, Genya was still no more than an ordinary human in strength. He simply couldn't cut through a demon's hardened bones.
"Seems like your strength is pretty weak!"
The demon snarled and suddenly reached out, grabbing the blade embedded in its arm. Even as the sharp edge sliced open its palm and blood poured down its fingers, it gripped harder and yanked with brutal force.
Human strength was no match for a demon's.
Almost instantly, Genya felt an overwhelming pull surge through the hilt in his hands. His entire body was dragged forward toward the demon.
In that split second, he made his choice.
He let go.
Abandoning the sword without hesitation, Genya threw himself sideways and rolled across the ground.
The demon seized the Nichirin Sword
One hand gripped the hated sword—the weapon carrying that detestable scent—while the other clutched at its ruined face. Its crimson eyes glared down at Genya, who had fallen to one knee and was now grabbing a handful of blood-soaked dirt from the ground.
"It hurts. It hurts so much… What kind of weapon was that? Why does it hurt this badly?"
The demon stared at him, still gripping the sword.
Genya said nothing.
His gaze remained fixed on the dirt in his hand. Mixed into the mud and blood was something sickeningly white—bits of the demon's brain matter.
Just looking at it made his stomach twist.
Both physically and mentally, disgust crawled through him.
After waiting and receiving no answer, irritation flared in the demon's crimson eyes.
"Even if I don't know what that weapon was, it looked pretty impressive. But against a demon…"
Its grip tightened around the sword hilt.
"It's useless."
"You can't kill me."
Savage malice twisted across its face. In the next instant, the demon leaped forward, raising the Nichirin Sword high and bringing it down toward Genya's head, who was still half-kneeling on the ground.
"As payment for hurting me, you'll repay me with your flesh and blood."
Its crimson eyes gleamed with cruel delight.
It had already seen through him.
A man without Breathing Styles. A hunter with nothing but ordinary human strength.
And he dared to hunt demons?
Wasn't that just prey delivering itself to the table?
The only thing worth fearing was that strange weapon from before. After killing him, it would make sure to examine it carefully and figure out exactly what it was.
The Nichirin Blade slashed downward.
Compared to the strike Genya had made earlier, this blow was at least ten times sharper—so fast that the blade became little more than an afterimage.
The demon could already picture it: the man's head severed cleanly, blood bursting forth in a delicious crimson spray. It almost closed its eyes, savoring in advance the exquisite sensation of warm blood splashing across its face.
And at that exact moment—
Genya Shinazugawa shoved the bloodied dirt, mixed with white pulp and gore, into his mouth.
The instant he swallowed it—
he lifted his head.
…
The expected sensation never came.
The blade did not cut through flesh. No sweet spray of blood splashed across its face.
Instead, the sword suddenly met overwhelming resistance—
and stopped.
That made the demon open its crimson eyes in confusion.
The boy was half-crouched on the ground, his palms pressed together, his hands clamped tightly around the descending blade and holding it firmly in place. The muscles in his arms bulged violently, veins crawling across his forearms like twisted worms. Just moments ago, his strength had been pitifully weak—so how could he suddenly possess such terrifying power?
And it wasn't only that.
His hair had grown longer, nearly falling to his shoulders, its color shifting from pure black to a striking mix of black and yellow.
The night breeze stirred, and those black-and-yellow strands swayed softly beneath the moonlight.
Still half-kneeling there, hands locked around the blade, Genya Shinazugawa slowly raised his head.
What was revealed was a face so horrifying that even the demon was stunned.
Veins bulged across his forehead, and from his mouth protruded sharp fangs that gleamed coldly in the moonlight—fangs unmistakably belonging to a demon.
Even more terrifying, the demon could sense it clearly.
The aura coming from him… was the aura of a demon.
But just a moment ago, he had definitely been human.
"You—?!"
The demon's eyes widened in disbelief.
But Genya gave it no chance to finish.
With both hands still clamped around the blade, he twisted violently to the side, wrenching it off course, and at the same time exploded upward from the ground. The moment his knees left the earth, the force beneath his feet was so great that the ground itself cracked and collapsed.
In the blink of an eye, his forehead slammed directly into the demon's face.
A full-force headbutt.
The demon's nose shattered on impact, collapsing instantly as blood and mucus sprayed out together. Its body reeled backward, but Genya gave it no chance to fall.
He lunged forward, grabbing hold of the demon and sinking his teeth into its neck.
Under the pale moonlight, those cold, gleaming fangs tore effortlessly through flesh.
"Ghk—ghhk…"
The demon's breath came out in broken, choking sounds. It could feel it—its blood, its very life, being drained away by this human. Never before had it experienced such a thing. It had always been the one feeding.
Now… it was the prey.
A surge of rage rose within it—
—and beneath that, something colder.
Fear.
A primal, suffocating fear.
It struggled desperately.
But Genya's fist was already coming down.
Thud!
The punch drove deep into its abdomen with a sickening force, as if his fist had buried itself inside its flesh. The demon's body arched violently, the fabric on its back tearing apart from the impact.
Then came another punch.
And another.
And another.
Each blow landed heavier than the last.
All the while, Genya's jaws never released his grip on the demon's throat. He tore at it relentlessly, like a beast devouring its prey.
The demon writhed in agony.
It had always been the one ripping open throats, tearing into warm flesh with its teeth—but now, the roles had reversed.
It was the one being devoured.
Panic flooded its mind.
Enduring the pain, it tried to fight back, forcing its arms forward—
—but its limbs were seized.
Rip!
Just like it had done to countless victims before, its arm was torn clean from its body. Blood sprayed into the air as unbearable agony surged through it. It tried to scream, but with its throat shredded, only a strangled, broken wheeze escaped.
Rip!
Another tearing sound followed.
This time, its legs.
In that moment, the demon finally understood what its victims must have felt—the helplessness, the terror, the sheer, unbearable pain.
But understanding it now, from the other side…
It was something it simply could not accept.
After ripping away both arms and legs and tearing open its throat, leaving it utterly unable to resist, Genya finally released his bite and rose slowly to his feet.
He stood there, staring down at the broken, mutilated demon before him.
Even after suffering such horrific injuries, the demon still wasn't dead.
It was still alive.
But with its throat torn apart and both arms and legs ripped from its body, the unbearable pain had twisted its face into something almost unrecognizable.
For a brief moment, Genya froze at the sight.
But only for a moment.
Then he bent down, picked up the Nichirin blade, and swung.
The sharp arc of steel sliced cleanly through the air and fell upon the demon's neck—ending it at last.
As the demon died, a foul stench began to spread through the air, accompanied by something intangible… a sorrow that ordinary people could never perceive.
Genya staggered back, breathing hard.
"Ha… ha… ha…"
His breaths came ragged and uneven, his vision tinted red as though drenched in blood. Something warm trickled from his eyes—he reached up to touch it.
Blood.
Demon blood.
There was a sickening taste lingering between his teeth. He spat, and what fell to the ground was a fragment of bone—the crushed remains of the demon's throat.
He had bitten through it.
Even something as hard as bone had shattered easily beneath his teeth.
Lowering his gaze, he watched as the demon's body slowly disintegrated into nothingness. There was discomfort in his eyes… but also something else.
A strange, unfamiliar sense of satisfaction.
"…Ha…"
He exhaled deeply again, then lifted a hand to his mouth, brushing against the sharp, elongated fangs that had grown there. For a fleeting instant, a terrifying thought surfaced—
Have I… become a demon?
The idea sent a surge of panic crashing through him.
But before it could fully take hold, he felt the fangs beginning to recede. The unnatural strength coursing through his body faded, along with that overwhelming sense of vitality.
In its place came a hollow emptiness.
A sudden, unbearable loss.
It made his chest tighten with unease—so much so that, for a fleeting second, he almost felt the urge to rush forward and tear into another demon, just to reclaim that power.
The wind stirred softly.
Footsteps approached from behind.
A small-framed girl walked beside a tall man as they came into view.
"I… I did it."
The words escaped him almost immediately.
His first instinct was to prove himself—to show that he had done it.
But just as quickly, he remembered what he must look like right now.
He had to look absolutely miserable.
Thinking of that, Genya quickly turned his head away. His hand rose unconsciously to touch his face, feeling the sticky blood smeared across it, and he could easily imagine how horrifying he must appear.
This kind of monstrous appearance…
Surely it would disgust him.
"Very good."
Soma stopped in front of him, his voice carrying open praise.
"Even without using Breathing Styles, the moment you consumed the demon's flesh, you gained physical abilities comparable to a demon's. It's just that this is your first time using the constitution of a 'Demon Eater,' so you're still far from skilled with it. And it's dangerous as well. If you hadn't managed to consume the demon's flesh immediately, you would have had almost no ability to resist against it."
He paused, then smiled faintly.
"But no matter what, Genya—being this brave on your very first demon hunt is already incredibly impressive."
Feeling the Soma's hand rest on his shoulder, hearing those words of recognition, something inside Genya broke.
He wanted to cry.
No—he was crying. The tears slipped out before he could stop them.
"I'll do even better… sir."
He kept his head lowered, unwilling to let anyone see the weakness on his face, but his voice—thick with emotion—carried a firm, unwavering resolve.
"Good. I'm looking forward to it."
Soma nodded and gave his shoulder another light pat. "For now, let's head back and get some rest."
"…Yes."
Genya nodded hard, then followed behind him as they began the journey back.
As they walked beneath the moonlight, his gaze lingered on the man's tall, steady back ahead of him.
For some reason, it reminded him of his brother.
And in that moment, Genya clenched his fists tightly.
That kind of back… strong, unwavering—
No matter what it took, he would protect it.
Even if it cost him his life.