Demon Slayer: Taking Care Of Tanjuro's Wife And Daughter

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A few strong men immediately surrounded him, glaring at Ryuji with hostility. Yet, because Ryuji held the tattooed man in his grip, they didn't act rashly.

"Hey, buddy, this is my turf," the tattooed man sneered, though his attempts to break free from Ryuji's grasp were futile.

Even in his predicament, the tattooed man showed no fear. After all, here in his domain, he wasn't worried about this stranger—unless the kid didn't plan to leave alive.

Meanwhile, the woman whose hair had been grabbed moments earlier quietly took the chance to escape while everyone's attention was diverted.

"Listen, pal," the tattooed man continued, his voice dripping with menace. "I'd let go if I were you, or else..."

Ryuji remained silent, his eyes downcast.

The man was about to speak again when, in one swift motion, Ryuji's wrist flicked, and a dagger slipped into his palm. Without hesitation, the blade sliced clean across the tattooed man's throat. Blood spurted out in a crimson arc.

The tattooed man's hands shot up to his neck, his eyes wide in disbelief. He couldn't comprehend how quickly the stranger had acted. In his final moments, as his life ebbed away, he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

"Ding. Congratulations, host. One enemy down. Attribute points gained: 0.1."

A familiar, mechanical voice echoed in Ryuji's mind.

"Kill him!" one of the surrounding thugs shouted.

Several of the men lunged at Ryuji, weapons raised. But Ryuji was faster. He dashed forward, ducking low, and delivered a powerful whip kick to the legs of two of the charging men.

Though they were more experienced in fighting, Ryuji's superior speed and reflexes left them at a severe disadvantage.

With a sickening thud, the two men collapsed, clutching their legs in pain.

"Die!" another thug roared, charging with a machete.

Ryuji raised his dagger just in time. Steel met steel, and sparks flew from the clash. The thug's face twisted in shock as Ryuji easily parried the blow. His strength was far greater than the thug had expected.

Before the thug could retreat, Ryuji was upon him, his dagger slashing clean across the man's throat. Blood spurted, and the man fell.

"Ding. Congratulations, host. One enemy down. Attribute points gained: 0.1."

Ryuji then turned his attention to the two men writhing on the ground, who were still groaning from his earlier kicks. Without hesitation, he dispatched them both, his blade flashing in the dim light.

"Ding. Congratulations, host. Two enemies down. Attribute points gained: 0.2."

With four bodies now lying at his feet, Ryuji allowed himself a moment to breathe. His chest rose and fell as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat.

The stench of blood filled the air, soaking the ground beneath him. But there was no time to linger. He had come here for a reason.

Ryuji turned toward the large gate ahead, which stood out sharply from the surrounding run-down buildings. He strode forward, undeterred.

"Who are you?" a burly man called out as he exited the building, noticing the blood-soaked scene and Ryuji approaching.

Ryuji didn't answer. He simply kept walking.

"I said stop!" the man barked, his voice laced with warning.

But Ryuji's response was swift. In a flash, he moved forward, his dagger slicing the man's throat before he had time to react. Another spray of blood bloomed.

"Ding. Congratulations, host. One enemy down. Attribute points gained: 0.1."

Ryuji entered the building, but as he stepped inside, he froze. His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight before him.

A man stood by the door, his hand gripping the handle of a gun, its barrel aimed directly at Ryuji.

Ryuji raised his hands slowly, dropping his dagger.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" the man growled, his eyes dark with malice.

The man was massive, his upper body scarred from countless battles. He was not an ordinary thug—this was a man who had survived many life-or-death encounters.

---

As soon as they faced each other, a fierce aura emanated from him. Confronted by it, Ryuji felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

Ryuji took a deep breath, his body tensing slightly as he mentally berated himself for being careless. With his superior physical abilities, most ordinary people were no match for him. Even if things went south, he could easily escape without anyone stopping him.

But he hadn't anticipated this.

These men had guns.

This was something Ryuji had overlooked. When he arrived in the world of **Demon Slayer**, he remembered the Demon Slayer Corps only using traditional weapons to combat demons. Instinctively, he had ignored the fact that guns existed in this era.

Now it dawned on him: guns were not as uncommon in this world as he had once thought. He even recalled a Demon Slayer named Genya Shinazugawa, who wielded a shotgun crafted from Nichirin metal, using specialized bullets to bring down demons. The idea of firearms being used in such battles was unconventional, yet undeniably effective in the right hands.

"Who sent you?" the man with the gun growled, his voice growing harsher as Ryuji remained silent.

Ryuji narrowed his eyes and, in a calm but altered voice, began to speak.

The man instinctively leaned in to listen.

But Ryuji had no intention of finishing his sentence. Instead, he suddenly whirled around, launching a lightning-fast kick aimed at the gunman's head.

The gunman reacted immediately, squeezing the trigger. A bullet whizzed toward Ryuji's forehead, but he had already anticipated the trajectory. He tilted his head just enough to avoid a fatal hit. The bullet barely grazed past him, dangerously close to his face.

Simultaneously, Ryuji's kick landed with a sickening thud against the man's arm as he tried to block the blow.

"Bang!"

The force sent the gunman flying backward. He crashed to the ground, clutching his arm in agony. Pain shot through him, making it feel as if his arm had been shattered. His entire body trembled from the impact.

"How... are you this strong?" the man gasped, his eyes wide in disbelief. He couldn't understand how Ryuji had overpowered him so easily.

Not giving him a moment to recover, Ryuji swiftly closed the distance and delivered a brutal kick aimed at the man's head.

The gunman twisted his body just in time, barely avoiding the strike. But Ryuji's foot still connected with his right shoulder, instantly dislocating it. The man's face contorted in pain as he scrambled to retreat.

Ryuji, relentless, continued his assault, pressing his advantage with a barrage of fast, ruthless strikes. His blows came so quickly and viciously that the man struggled to keep up. Despite his combat experience, the gunman was outmatched, his body too weak to handle Ryuji's overwhelming speed and power.

After a few exchanges, the gunman made a fatal mistake. Ryuji's palm struck him square in the head, and the man's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

"Haah..."

Ryuji exhaled slowly, catching his breath. Though the gunman had been weaker in terms of raw power, his combat experience had been formidable. Ryuji knew that if their strength had been equal, he might not have won so easily.

"I still lack real-world battle experience," Ryuji muttered to himself, glancing down at the dead man's scarred body. The man had clearly been through many battles, and his skill reflected that.

"Ding. Congratulations, host. One enemy down. Attribute points gained: 0.2."

The familiar mechanical voice rang in Ryuji's ears once again.

He blinked, momentarily surprised by the higher number of points, but then it made sense. This man was much stronger than the others. Of course, he'd yield more attribute points.

Taking another deep breath, Ryuji crouched down and picked up the gun the man had dropped. He felt a sense of appreciation for the firearm in his hand. If the gunman had fired first, Ryuji might not have had time to react, and things could have ended very differently.

The thought made Ryuji shudder.

He stashed the gun away and searched the house. As expected, this was a den of loan sharks, and the place was stocked with a large amount of money. Ryuji packed up everything he could into a bag and prepared to leave.

With this cash, he wouldn't have to worry about money for a while.

He hadn't come here just to eliminate the criminals and earn attribute points; he also needed funds. Running a household, especially a large one, required money. And now, thanks to these ill-gotten gains, he could rest easy for a time.

Satisfied with the points he'd earned and the large sack of money, Ryuji glanced around the blood-soaked room one last time. Assured he hadn't missed anything, he left the building.

---

On his way back, Ryuji walked through the slums, where the streets were almost completely dark. Unlike other parts of the city, few homes here had any lights on at night.

He passed a few drunks stumbling through the streets but paid them no mind as he continued his silent journey.

Suddenly, his steps faltered.

Ahead, an old man, hunched and rickety, crouched over the ground. His head was bent low as if chewing on something. Lying next to him was a woman's body, twitching weakly.

The faint moonlight revealed enough for Ryuji to recognize the woman. It was the same woman who had run away earlier when he fought the gang.

Only now, she was dead.

Sensing movement, the old man slowly lifted his head. The most striking feature on his aged face was his blood-red eyes and the pieces of flesh clinging to his lips.

It was clear.

He wasn't eating just any food.

It was human flesh.

Ryuji's pupils constricted as he instantly recognized what the old man was—a demon.

His hand instinctively reached for the gun at his waist.

The old man, now aware of Ryuji, fixed him with a predatory stare, his scarlet eyes glowing menacingly. His skin, tinged purple, reflected the soft moonlight, giving him a nightmarish appearance.

Ryuji stood still, every muscle in his body tense. The demon stared back at him, an unspoken tension crackling between them, thickening the air.

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