Chapter 1:Beginning of the Simulation System
The city of Orario was alive with the late afternoon buzz, adventurers streaming back from the Dungeon, their faces flushed with exhaustion or triumph. Bell Cranel, rookie of the Hestia Familia, trudged home with aching limbs and a battered ego. His first day had been rough scrapes and bruises, nerves frayed from close calls, and the ever-present memory of that Minotaur.
He ducked into the quiet, crumbling church he called home. Lady Hestia would be out for a while, chasing down odd jobs to keep them fed. Bell flopped onto the couch, eyes tracing the cracked ceiling. He exhaled, then stiffened.
A pale blue screen hovered above him, letters flickering as if written on air.
**Transverse Simulator System initialising…
Host: Bell Cranel
Simulation quota: 3/3
First simulation world: Demon Slayer
Bell blinked, then blinked again. The words stayed. He reached out, waving his hand through the screen. Nothing happened.
"...What in the gods' names?" he whispered, heart pounding. Was this a blessing? A curse? Some new skill granted by Lady Hestia?
As if in answer, more text scrolled across the screen.
System Explanation:
Up to three cross-world simulations per day.Each simulation: five random talents presented. Select three. Survive at least two years in the simulation to receive rewards. Rewards scale with performance evaluation.S rank unlocks real person simulation.Real person simulation: actual risks apply; injury and death carry over. Complete real person simulation with S rank to solidify the world and unlock full access, including bringing people back.
Bell's mind spun. Cross-world? Simulations? Five talents? It sounded like something out of a story, except the part where he could die. His fingers trembled as he scrolled through the rest.
First simulation world: Demon Slayer
Simulation follows canon events.
*Talents are randomised upon entry.
You may view it, but you must select it before beginning.*
As he watched, the system flashed again, displaying a set of options:
**Simulation Quota: 3/3
Begin the first simulation?
(Y/N)
Bell hesitated, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. He'd always wanted to be a hero, to become strong enough to protect those he cared about. But this-this was something else entirely. New worlds, new dangers, and a chance to gain power that no one in Orario could imagine.
But also, a chance to die. The words "actual risks " echoed in his mind.
He reached for the screen with trembling hands, then paused. "No. Not yet." He closed the prompt, letting the system's notifications settle into the back of his mind.
He needed to think, to plan. Bell rolled onto his side, staring at the wall as questions tumbled through his mind. What kind of talents would he get? What was this Demon Slayer world? Could he bring people or power back with him?
And most of all: Why me?
He spent the evening reading every detail the system would allow him to see. He learned how the talents would appear, five at a time, each promising something different. He knew about the quota: three simulations daily, each completely separate. He learned the rules: survive two years and earn rewards. The better he did, the greater the prize.
Bell's imagination ran wild. Maybe this was his chance. Perhaps this was the answer to his prayers, the shortcut to strength, to heroism, to a future where he could stand beside Lady Hestia, and maybe, one day, Aiz Wallenstein herself.
But he also remembered the warning. Real-person simulations carried real danger, and he couldn't afford to be reckless.
For now, he kept the secret to himself. Not even Lady Hestia would understand until he could prove it wasn't just a dream.
That night, Bell lay awake, watching the faint blue shimmer of the system's notifications in the darkness. Tomorrow, he'd take the first step, and tomorrow, he'd see what kind of hero he could become.
But tonight, he was just Bell Cranel, brave, terrified, and on the verge of something wondrous and terrible.
Bell rose before dawn the next morning, nerves fluttering in his stomach. The blue flicker of the system still hovered at the edge of his vision, a constant reminder of the secret he now carried.
He found Lady Hestia bustling in the cramped kitchen, humming softly as she prepared a simple breakfast. Bell mustered a smile. "Um, Goddess? I think I'll spend today training outside. … to clear my head after yesterday."
Hestia's eyes softened. "Of course, Bell. Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? And come back before dinner!" She ruffled his hair, a gesture equal parts affection and reassurance.
Bell nodded, heart pounding with anticipation and guilt. He hated hiding anything from her, but how could he even begin to explain something so strange? He grabbed a cloak and slipped out into the cool morning air.
Orario was waking up. Bell moved quickly, keeping to the shadows, until he found a quiet alley near the old, abandoned church. It was a forgotten spot: weeds curling through broken stones, sunlight speckling the ground through holes in a collapsed roof. Here, at least, he'd have privacy.
He sat cross-legged, surrounded by silence, and willed the system's menu to appear.
Simulation Quota: 3/3
First Simulation World: Demon Slayer
Begin the first simulation? (Y/N)
Bell's hand trembled as he hovered over the prompt. He drew a deep breath, steadying himself. It's just a simulation. My body will stay here. If something goes wrong, I'll snap out of it. Right?
He pressed "Y."
Instantly, the world around him seemed to dissolve in a cascade of blue light. For a heartbeat, he felt weightless—untethered from his body, as if he were falling between worlds. Notifications scrolled past:
"Ding!! I received the command from the host that the transverse simulation officially begins."
Bell jolted as the system's voice echoed crisply in his mind, startlingly clear. Before he could react, a shimmering wheel materialised in front of his eyes, spinning with a whir of energy and light. It slowed, clicking into place five times. One by one, icons appeared, each glowing with a distinct aura.
"Five talents have been chosen at random. Please select three of them as starting talents," the system intoned.
The talents hovered before him, each with a brief description and a colored tag:
Fluent and eloquent (green): It will improve your language ability, enhance your communication with others, and to some extent, make your words more persuasive
.It's not a small power (blue): Your strength goes far beyond that of ordinary people!
Delicious Blood (blue): Your blood is more attractive and attracts demons tremendously!
Talent and Intelligence (green): You have talent, and your learning ability is stronger than that of ordinary people!
Blacksmith Master (purple): You have a lot of talent in blacksmithing, and you can easily surpass the efforts of others in just one year, which would generally take them more than ten years!
A line of text scrolled underneath, as if offering advice:
Talent levels are divided into white, green, blue, purple, orange, and gold from lowest to highest. Carefully choose the talent that best suits your needs.
Bell gazed at the talents, weighing his options. Each one shimmered with possibility or danger. "Delicious Blood" sent a chill down his spine. He wasn't sure he wanted to be more attractive to demons, especially in a world where they hunted for blood.
His eyes settled on the last talent, "Blacksmith Master" (purple). The highest rarity of the five, and the description was clear: a shortcut to mastery, a way to create and wield his powerful weapons. That could be life or death in a world of demons and swords.
"I'll take this one," he whispered, selecting Blacksmith Master as his first talent. The icon pulsed, locking in with a satisfying chime.
Now, only two choices remained. Bell's heart raced as he considered the others. With each selection, his fate in the new world would be shaped, his chance to survive, thrive, and maybe even change destiny.
Bell took a steadying breath, his eyes darting between the remaining talents. "Talent and Intelligence" glimmered with promise. He'd always relied on his quick learning to grow, and in a foreign world, that edge could mean everything. He tapped the icon.
Then, with a moment's hesitation, he chose "It's Not a Small Power." Strength beyond ordinary people… He'd never been the strongest, but perhaps here, he could protect someone, maybe even himself.
The system chimed, bright and decisive:
"The selection of talents is complete. The simulation begins!"
The world blurred and reformed. Bell felt a rush of air, the scent of dew and damp earth, and the distant, foreboding hush of ancient woods at sunrise.
He awoke standing in a forest clearing, the sky just beginning to pale. Somewhere nearby, the sharp clash of metal and a desperate cry tore through the dawn. Bell's feet moved before he could think, racing toward the noise.
He burst into a small glade, where a fierce battle was unfolding. A young woman with gentle eyes and flowing black hair fought a monstrous, twisted shape, a demon, Bell realised, his spine prickling with terror. The air thrummed with power and bloodlust. The woman's blade flashed, but the creature was relentless, shrieking as it lunged.
Bell watched, frozen, as the first rays of sunlight crept over the trees. The demon recoiled, smoke hissing from its flesh. Then, with a guttural howl, it vanished into the shadows, gone as suddenly as it had appeared.
The woman crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath her. Bell rushed to her side, heart hammering. "Are you all right? Please, hold on!" He tried to stanch the wound with trembling hands, desperate and useless.
The woman smiled softly, her eyes kind even through the pain. "Sorry... I couldn't... protect everyone." Her gaze drifted to the sky, and with a final, gentle sigh, she was gone.
Bell's vision blurred with tears as he cradled her. He'd failed, before he'd even begun, he'd failed.
A flurry of footsteps thundered behind him. A woman in a Demon Slayer uniform, her dark hair pulled back and eyes sharp as a blade, burst into the clearing. She saw Bell, saw the fallen woman in his arms, and her face twisted with grief.
"What happened here?" she demanded, kneeling beside him.
Bell choked out the story, how he'd seen the fight, how the demon had fled with the sunrise, how he'd tried to help but arrived too late.
The woman's voice was soft but brittle. "Her name was Kanae Kocho. She was my sister." Her fingers brushed Kanae's hair, trembling. "I'm Shinobu. Shinobu Kocho."
Bell wiped his eyes, bowing his head in shame and sorrow. "I'm Bell. Bell Cranel."
Shinobu nodded, her expression unreadable. "Bell… would you come with me? Back to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters? My master will want to hear what you saw. And" she hesitated, then added, "you might need protection. There are many more demons out there."
Bell swallowed, nodding. The simulation had only begun, and the world felt heavy with danger and heartbreak. But a tiny ember of determination sparked in his chest. He wouldn't waste this chance. He'd survive, grow strong, and do everything he could to help, no matter what world he stood in.
For a brief moment, everything froze: the wind, the trees, even the sorrow etched on Shinobu's face. Bell blinked in confusion, then whispered, "System, continue the simulation."
With a silent pulse, the world resumed its natural flow. Shinobu, composed despite her grief, gestured for Bell to follow. "Come. We need to report this to Master Kagaya."
The journey to the Demon Slayer headquarters was quiet. Bell was lost in thought, and Shinobu was lost in mourning. When they arrived, the headquarters loomed serene and imposing, filled with the presence of powerful sworders and a sense of unwavering resolve.
Inside, Bell was led to a spacious, sunlit chamber where a gentle, pale man, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, awaited them. Hashira stood respectfully nearby, curiosity and suspicion flickering in their eyes.
Bell bowed deeply and recounted everything he remembered: the demon's chilling presence, the desperate battle, the moment the sunlight drove the creature away. When Kagaya pressed for details, Bell described the demon's appearance, its serene, smiling face, and the chilling emptiness behind its eyes.
A ripple of shock passed through the Hashira. Shinobu's fists clenched, her voice trembling as she asked, "Are you certain? That matches the description of Upper Moon Two… Doma."
The name sent a cold shiver down Bell's spine. Even he could sense the weight it carried among the slayers.
Kagaya's gentle gaze settled on Bell. "You have shown bravery and honesty in the face of danger. Would you be willing to join the Demon Slayer Squad? We can teach you the ways of breathing and swordsmanship. You may be new, but your resolve is clear."
Bell nodded without hesitation. "I'd like to join. Please, teach me."
"You've successfully joined the Demon Slayer Squad!" the system chimed in his mind, a hidden thrill running through him at the notification.
Shinobu stepped forward, a hint of a smile returning to her lips. "Then you'll start as my apprentice. I'll get you into shape before we decide which breathing style suits you best."
As the other Hashira murmured in approval or interest, Bell felt something new, a sense of belonging, and a burning desire to grow stronger. This world was dangerous, and heartbreak was everywhere, but he would face it head-on. He was Bell Cranel, and no matter the world, he would walk the path of a hero.
Bell followed Shinobu as she led him away from the headquarters, her steps light but sure. They travelled through winding paths until a large, elegant estate came into view, the Butterfly Mansion, known to many as the Flower House.
"This is where we treat injured Demon Slayers," Shinobu explained, her voice gentle as she opened the gate. "The Butterfly Mansion is both a hospital and a training ground. My sister Kanae and I built it to help those who fight so they can return to the front lines as soon as possible."
Inside, the air was filled with the scent of blossoms and medicine. Bell's eyes widened at the neat rows of beds, the gentle bustle of attendants, and the peaceful garden at the heart of the estate.
As they entered, a quiet presence caught Bell's attention, a young girl with striking lavender eyes, her long black hair pulled into a ponytail. She watched him curiously, flipping a coin in her hand but saying nothing.
"That's Kanao Tsuyuri," Shinobu said, noticing his gaze. "She's our adopted sister. Kanae and I took her in. Kanao doesn't speak much. She lets her coin decide things for her."
Kanao nodded politely, her eyes unreadable, then slipped away down the hall.
Shinobu gestured for Bell to follow. "Let's talk about breathing styles. They are the foundation of every Demon Slayer's strength. My own is Insect Breathing, which focuses on speed, agility, and precision. Kanao is learning Flower Breathing, my sister Kanae's speciality. Each style has its strengths and philosophy."
She led Bell out to a sun-dappled courtyard. "But you must strengthen your body and lungs before you can learn any of them. That means daily exercises, running, strength training, and, most importantly, learning Total Concentration Breathing."
Bell nodded, determination sparking in his eyes. He would throw himself into this training, just like in Orario. Whatever it took to survive and grow stronger, he was ready.
Shinobu smiled, seeing his resolve. "Let's get started. The sooner you build your foundation, the sooner we can find the breathing style that suits you best."
As the morning sun rose over the Butterfly Mansion, Bell's new life as a Demon Slayer apprentice truly began.
It's been a year. You've stayed at the Butterfly Mansion, your days filled with relentless training, chores, and learning from Shinobu and the other attendants. Your physical condition has improved drastically; your muscles were firmer, your stamina was near unbreakable, and you could run with the wind and keep going for hours. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, the mysterious wall between yourself and true mastery of Total Concentration Breathing never cracked. It was like reaching for a light in a tunnel that always stayed just out of grasp.
Despite your lack of progress in breathing techniques, Shinobu noticed your efforts. She saw your discipline and refusal to give up, and she mentioned your dedication in her reports to Kagaya Ubuyashiki. After Kanae's passing, Shinobu's growth and resolve earned her the official position of Insect Hashira, a rare comfort to the Butterfly Mansion.
One afternoon, as sunlight filtered through the paper doors, Shinobu sat you in the garden. She explained the breathing styles in greater depth, her voice calm and clear.
"There are five main breathing styles that form the foundation of the Demon Slayer Corps," she began. "Flame, Wind, Water, Thunder, and Stone. Each reflects the natural world and draws on a slayer's disposition and spirit. Flower Breathing, which Kanao practices, is a derivative of Water. My own, Insect Breathing, is a derivative of Flower. Each style has its forms and philosophy."
She glanced at Kanao tending to the lilies nearby, then turned back to you. "There was once an original style: Sun Breathing. All other forms were derived from it, but the knowledge of Sun Breathing has been lost, its forms and secrets forgotten to time."
Her gaze softened, seeing the curiosity in your eyes. "Flame Breathing is about fierce, overwhelming offence, like a wildfire. Water Breathing is fluid, adaptable, and flows around obstacles. Wind is wild and relentless, Thunder is explosive and swift, and Stone is unyielding and resolute. Flower Breathing is graceful and precise, and Insect Breathing focuses on agility, speed, and pinpoint strikes."
You listened, absorbing every word, then finally voiced a question that had been gnawing at you since the start. "Shinobu… is it possible to learn more than one breathing style?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she studied you, then shook her head gently. "No one has managed to learn more than one. Each style uses a different breathing pattern and body and mind rhythm. It's not forbidden, but it's never been accomplished. Most people's bodies and spirits can only harmonise with one."
She smiled, not unkindly. "But if anyone were stubborn enough to try, Bell, it might just be you."
You nodded, feeling both the weight of your progress and the hope that, with time and grit, you might still break through. For now, you'd keep training, keep learning, and maybe find your way to master the breath.
After a thoughtful pause, you looked up at Shinobu, determination lighting your eyes. "Shinobu… if it's all right, could you teach me your Insect Breathing? And, I'd also like to try learning Thunder Breathing. The two might work well together, at least for me."
Shinobu's eyes widened, genuine surprise flickering across her face before she smiled, soft and wistful. "You never stop surprising me, Bell." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, her voice quiet but sincere. "I created Insect Breathing because I didn't have the physical strength to use the other major styles. My body is small, my arms are thin, and I couldn't decapitate demons the way others did. So, I made something to fit me."
She drew her sword, letting you see the thin, needle-like blade. "This katana is different. It can't cut off a demon's head, but it lets me inject specially made poison. That's how I kill demons, through precision, agility, and chemistry. Every form in Insect Breathing is designed so someone like me can survive."
She sheathed the blade and gave you an approving nod. "If you wish to learn my style, I'll teach you. It won't be easy and requires absolute control, speed, and a certain… finesse. As for Thunder Breathing, if you're willing to work twice as hard, I see no reason not to try. Both styles are fast and sharp in their ways. Who knows? You might discover something nobody else has."
A gentle breeze rustled the flowers, and for the first time in months, you felt hope flicker inside you. Maybe, just maybe, you could forge a path that was yours alone.
Another year passed.
Your days at the Butterfly Mansion blurred into a determined routine, training at dawn with Shinobu, running laps around the gardens with Kanao, and practising your forms late into the night. Slowly, under Shinobu's patient guidance, you mastered Insect Breathing. Every movement became sharper; your steps grew lighter, your strikes more precise. The poison techniques, unique to Shinobu's style, became second nature to you, the art of agility and finesse woven into every breath.
But you didn't stop there. Driven by your stubborn hope, you sought out Thunder Breathing as well. Shinobu helped arrange a meeting with the legendary old swordsman Jigoro Kuwajima, a former Thunder Hashira. Under his stern gaze and booming laughter, you drilled the explosive, lightning-fast forms of Thunder Breathing, your legs burning with the effort, your heart racing with exhilaration.
Miraculously, you found that your body could adapt. The two breathing styles, so different yet built on speed and precision, began to harmonise within you. You even started experimenting, blending the quicksilver strikes of Thunder Breathing with the poison-laced agility of Insect Breathing.
One afternoon, you demonstrated progress in the Butterfly Mansion's training grounds. Shinobu watched with astonishment as you struck with a flash of Thunder, then flowed into the delicate steps of Insect Breathing, your sword tip moving with blinding speed and deadly grace. The air shimmered with the intensity of your breathing, your lungs finally strong and steady, your mind clear and focused.
A voice rang in your mind, the familiar chime of the system:
"Total Concentration Breathing: Mastered."
Shinobu smiled, pride shining in her eyes. "You did it, Bell. You didn't just learn what others thought impossible, you made it your own."
For the first time since your arrival, you felt like you truly belonged here, as both student and innovator. The world of Demon Slayers had changed you; you were ready to change it in return.
Before long, it was time for the Final Selection, a test all aspiring Demon Slayers faced before they could begin their missions. The tension was high, but Bell entered the mountain with calm resolve and a quiet sense of purpose. The skills he'd honed, the breathing styles he'd mastered, and the lessons from Shinobu and Jigoro gave him confidence that didn't waver.
The days and nights on the mountain were gruelling, demons lurking behind every tree, but Bell's fusion of Insect and Thunder Breathing made him a blur of speed and precision. He moved with the elegance of a butterfly and struck with the force of a lightning bolt. When dawn finally broke on the seventh day, Bell emerged, battered but undefeated.
A familiar ding echoed in his mind:
"Congratulations! You have passed the Final Selection."
Another message quickly followed:
"Special Achievement: Mastered Thunder Breathing, Insect Breathing, and developed Fusion Form. Unique breathing technique recorded. Additional evaluation points granted."
Just as Bell's heart swelled with pride, the world paused again, colours draining from the sky. He closed his eyes and quietly muttered, "System, continue the simulation."
The world snapped back into motion. Bell realised, so far, everything was going exactly as he hoped. In the simulation, he maintained his steady, earnest personality, never rushing or letting ambition cloud his judgment. Except for the excitement of Final Selection, he'd spent his days quietly with the Demon Slayer team at the Butterfly Mansion, building friendships and learning everything he could.
Bell received his first mission after receiving his sword, a blade that shimmered with a faint blue and violet sheen. He took each mission seriously, always returning to the mansion to polish his skills and push his body further. Every spare moment was spent refining his swordsmanship, practising breathing, and observing the Hashira with unspoken admiration.
With his natural power, extraordinary learning ability, and relentless discipline, Bell quickly closed the gap between himself and even the strongest of the Demon Slayer Corps. Given enough time, he knew there would be no problem reaching the level of the Hashira and finally having the strength to protect himself and anyone else in need.
The simulation was far from over, but for the first time, Bell felt that he truly belonged here. Every step and every breath brought him closer to the hero he'd always dreamed of becoming.
During Bell's missions, countless demons fell beneath his blade and the unique fury of his fused breathing techniques. Stories of his exploits began to spread, how he struck with Thunder's speed and a butterfly's grace, how poison and lightning danced in every battle. Yet, the challenges grew more dangerous with every mission.
One night, as moonlight filtered through the tangled branches of an abandoned manor, Bell faced his greatest foe yet: Kyogai, the Drum Demon, Lower Moon Six. The demon's shifting rooms and pounding drums made the battlefield a whirlwind of confusion and terror. Bell's heart thundered in his chest as he dodged claws and soundwaves, his breathing perfectly controlled despite the chaos.
The fight was gruelling, Kyogai's strength, unpredictable attacks, and the desperate need to protect the terrified townsfolk. Bell pushed himself to his limits, channelling the full force of his Thunder and Insect Breathing. Finally, with one last, blinding combination, he severed the demon's head. Kyogai's body crumbled to dust, his drums falling silent forever.
But as Bell sheathed his sword, a sickening crack echoed in his hand. He stared in disbelief as his beloved Nichirin blade snapped and shattered by the force of his strength. Frustration welled up inside him. He'd won, but the broken weapon was a bitter reminder: even now, he wasn't strong enough. There were limits to what he could do.
Unbeknownst to Bell, Kyogai's death sent ripples through the demon world. News reached Muzan Kibutsuji, who seethed with rage. The demon lord's command was absolute: "Find this swordsman. Bring him to the Infinity Castle. Alive."
Meanwhile, word of the broken blade reached the Swordsmith Village. Hotaru Haganezuka arrived, his face hidden behind a mask, but his fury unmistakable. "You broke my masterpiece!" he howled, chasing Bell through the town with a raised hammer. "I'll never forgive you!"
Bell ducked, dodged, and finally cornered Hotaru just as the swordsmith was about to snatch the ruined blade away. An idea flickered in Bell's mind. He remembered the talent he'd chosen at the start of this strange journey, which set him apart.
"Wait!" Bell called out. "Don't take it back just yet. I want to come to the Swordsmith Village. I want to learn about forging techniques myself!"
Hotaru froze, mask tilting as he considered. He snatched Bell's hand and examined his calluses, posture, and how he held himself. Slowly, his anger gave way to a kind of wild fascination. "You… You have talent for the forge. You're not just a swordsman, you could be a craftsman."
Hotaru's eyes gleamed with a feverish light. "Forget slaying demons! Come with me to the village. I'll make you the greatest blacksmith in history!"
Bell smiled, shaking his head. "I can't give up being a slayer. But if you teach me, I want to learn. I want to make a sword that won't break, one worthy of protecting everyone."
Hotaru huffed, torn between outrage and admiration. "Hmph. You'd better not waste my time!"
Kagaya Ubuyashiki, ever gentle and wise, learned of Bell's intention to study at the Swordsmith Village. He offered no guidance, trusting Bell's heart to make the right choice, but gave his blessing. "Go," Kagaya said in a quiet letter, "and let your resolve be tempered as surely as your blade."
So Bell followed Hotaru to the hidden Swordsmith Village, a place alive with the clanging of hammers and the sharp scent of steel. There, he split his days between special training, sparring, breathing drills, body conditioning and learning the ancient art of forging Nichirin swords. Still gruff but secretly proud, Hotaru pushed him to his limits at the anvil and in the workshop.
Within half a year, Bell's progress was nothing short of astounding. He grasped the secrets of ore selection, tempering, and the delicate inscriptions that channelled sunlight into demon-slaying power. Hotaru, unable to teach him anything more, could only shake his head in disbelief. "You're a true craftsman now, Bell. I've never seen anyone learn so fast."
Bell became proficient in manufacturing and repairing Nichirin swords, his hands as skilled in the forge as they were in battle. As his forging mastery deepened, so did his understanding of breathing styles. He came to see the connection between the hammer's rhythm, the metal's flow, and the pulse of his own breath. Drawing on both arts, Bell forged his sword a blade as unique as himself, perfectly balanced for his fusion of Thunder and Insect Breathing.
In the third year of his journey, a letter arrived from Kagaya, requesting Bell's return to the Demon Slayer Corps. The time spent at the village had filled Bell with new confidence, knowledge, and strength. He bid farewell to the swordsmiths, Hotaru included, who finally admitted Bell was worthy of any path he chose.
A beautiful, busty Kakushi was assigned to escort Bell back to headquarters. The journey was lively and cheerful, a welcome change after years of steel and discipline.
But destiny waited with a cruel twist. Just three days after his return, Bell was sent on a mission that led him face-to-face with Akaza, the terrifying Upper Moon Three. Akaza's arrival was no accident. Muzan's orders had made Bell a target, and his unusual spirit and fighting style had drawn the most dangerous eyes in the demon world.
The battle erupted without warning. Akaza pressed Bell harder than any foe before, his blows relentless, his strength monstrous. Bell resisted desperately, his fusion techniques flashing in the moonlight. But a cold clarity settled in Bell's heart when he learned, amid the fight, that Muzan himself wanted to see him alive. He knew what that meant: capture, torture, the end of his will.
Instead of giving in, Bell made a final, defiant choice. He burned every last reserve of strength, unleashing all his power in a furious battle to the death against Akaza. The world faded in a blur of pain, Thunder, and poison. With a final, exhausted breath, Bell fell.
A clear, emotionless chime echoed in the void:
"Ding! You Died!"
"This Simulation has ended. The reward calculation is in progress…"
Although his journey in this world had ended, the system's promise of rewards and the lessons Bell had learned were only just beginning.