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Now reading: Chapter 115 115: I... Can Do It Alone from Demon Slayer: I Am a Demon, a Action novel by JinTL.

He was only a boy—yet when he lifted the axe and brought it down, splitting the head of Hasegawa Satoshi, the syndicate's second-in-command, clean in two, everything changed. Blood burst forth and spattered across the boy's face, and when he turned to look at the others, his features sared crimson, the remaining mbers of the "Renyi Syndicate" fled in near panic, their composure shattered.

A soft series of sounds cut through the night—

Thud… thud… thud…

A figure stepped out from the darkness, moving without hesitation.

The gleam of a Nichirin Sword flickered through the shadows. One after another, the fleeing n clutched their throats and collapsed, their bodies hitting the ground lifeless, their breaths extinguished almost instantly.

Soma cut down five or six of them in swift succession. Only three remained—and even they could no longer withstand the terror crushing their hearts. They dropped to their knees at once, begging desperately for rcy.

This ti, Soma did not strike again.

Instead, he turned his gaze toward the boy.

Tanjiro still stood where he was, the axe lodged monts ago in Hasegawa's head now freed, yet his body seed frozen, as though his soul had yet to catch up with what his hands had done. It was his first ti killing. The grotesque image of the split head before him—the sheer brutality of it—made his body tremble uncontrollably.

Soma approached slowly, Nichirin Sword in hand, its tip angled downward as droplets of blood slid along its edge and fell soundlessly to the ground.

He glanced once at the stunned boy, then at the three n kneeling and pleading for their lives, and said in an even, unhurried voice:

"Finish it."

Tanjiro blinked, dazed, as though he hadn't heard correctly. "What…?"

"I said," Soma repeated quietly, "kill them."

Still unsteady, Tanjiro reached down and pulled his axe free from where it had caught against bone. He looked at the three n groveling before him, then tightened his grip and began to walk toward them, one slow step at a ti.

"Spare … please, spare !"

"Sir, I beg you! My child is waiting for at ho—I can't let my poor child grow up without a father!"

"My mother is bedridden—I can't die, I can't die! Please, have rcy, please…"

Their voices overlapped in frantic desperation as they slamd their foreheads against the ground.

Tanjiro's steps faltered.

He could feel it—their terror, their clinging desperation to live, the unseen grief that would ripple through the families they spoke of. His fingers loosened slightly around the axe handle.

"Kill them."

The demon's voice ca again, quiet but inescapable.

Tanjiro's fingers tightened reflexively around the axe. He looked at the three n once more, and as if sensing his hesitation, they imdiately bowed lower, weeping louder, their cries more pitiful than before.

And so doubt crept in.

Perhaps… perhaps he could spare them…

But the three n, realizing that no amount of pleading would move the other figure—the one lurking behind the boy—caught sight, in the dim light, of Tanjiro's true face.

A young, untested face.

And in his eyes, unmistakable hesitation.

They did not waste the opportunity.

Even as they continued to beg, their hands quietly reached for their weapons. In the instant Tanjiro wavered, they sprang upward, their expressions twisting into savage ferocity, all traces of pitiful desperation vanishing as though they had never existed.

From kneeling and sobbing to lunging with blades raised—it happened in the span of a heartbeat.

Only then did Tanjiro snap out of his hesitation. He gripped the axe tightly, instinctively, but all he could do was watch in horror as the three rushed toward him, weapons poised to strike.

It was too late for him to defend himself.

Slash!

A sharp sound cut through the air.

Steel flashed.

Before their weapons could fall upon Tanjiro, the strength drained from their bodies. The fierce expressions on their faces froze, then crumbled as they collapsed heavily to the ground in front of him.

For a mont, Tanjiro stood there in a daze, his breath coming in ragged bursts. Slowly, he lifted his head.

Ahead of him, the demon approached, carrying a blade still wet with blood. Beneath those dark eyes, a flicker of crimson glinted faintly as he stared directly at Tanjiro.

"Just now," the demon said, his voice quiet but cutting, "you hesitated, Tanjiro."

Clutching the axe, Tanjiro lowered his head in sha.

The demon reached out and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, his voice dropping, heavy with aning.

"And hesitation… will cost you your life."

There was unmistakable disappointnt in his tone now, thick and cold.

"Just now, you already died. Think about what that would an—your mother, Kamado Kie, would lose the son she loves most. Your younger brothers and sisters… would lose the brother they cherish above all else."

The boy's grip tightened around the handle of the axe, his knuckles whitening with strain.

"When you face other humans, you already hesitate like this… so what will you do when you face demons?"

The question fell coldly into the silence.

"Hunting demons is far more difficult than killing n—and far harder to accomplish. As you are now, weak and wavering, you simply aren't capable of it."

Soma raised his Nichirin Sword, the tip hovering just before the boy's eye. Terror surged across Tanjiro's face in an instant, his body stiffening as though even the slightest movent might cost him his sight.

"You disappoint , Tanjiro. I thought… you would be different."

His voice remained calm, but the judgnt within it cut deeper than any blade.

"Honestly, this is utterly disappointing."

A single drop of blood slid down the edge of the sword and fell, landing squarely in Tanjiro's eye. His vision flooded with red, the world dissolving into a haze of crimson.

"I will… I'll do it."

Tanjiro's voice trembled, but his grip on the axe tightened further, as though anchoring himself to resolve.

Soma let out a faint chuckle and lowered his blade, sheathing it in one smooth motion. Then he leaned in slightly, his presence pressing close.

"Very well," he murmured. "Go and kill every last mber of the Renyi Syndicate. Do that, and I'll believe you."

Tanjiro's body trembled.

"If even killing humans is this difficult for you, then killing demons will be beyond your reach," Soma continued, his voice soft yet relentless. "You're still hesitating, Tanjiro. Think carefully about what that hesitation just brought you."

He paused, letting the mory sink in—the mont those n had turned on him.

"Your enemies will not weep or repent because you hesitate. They will seize that instant without rcy and kill you. Even those weaker than you will exploit it—yet here you are, still wavering. If this is how you face the weak, then what of those stronger than you? Will you hesitate then as well?"

His gaze sharpened.

"Will you hand over the right to decide life and death… entirely to them?"

Tanjiro's fingers clenched tighter still around the axe.

Soma reached out and patted his shoulder, his tone easing, though the weight behind his words remained.

"You know where their hideout is, don't you? Do you need to go with you?"

Tanjiro lifted his head.

Their eyes t—those dark eyes of Soma's, within which a faint crimson seed to flicker. In them, Tanjiro could sense disappointnt… but also sothing else.

Expectation.

In the stillness between them, Tanjiro could almost sll it—that strange, intangible blend of disappointnt and hope, as though Soma was waiting for him to grow into sothing more.

His grip steadied.

Looking straight at him, Tanjiro spoke, his voice low but firm:

"I… I can do it alone."

Soma nodded lightly. "Good. I'll wait for you here."

He placed a hand on Tanjiro's shoulder once more and gave it a gentle pat.

"Go."

With that, Tanjiro turned and walked into the darkness, his axe held tightly in his hand. After a few steps, he couldn't help but glance back.

There, beneath the faint glow of moonlight, Soma stood quietly, watching him with a gentle expression.

Tanjiro gave a small nod, then turned away and quickened his pace.

Soma remained where he was, watching the boy's retreating figure until it disappeared into the night. Only then did he lower his gaze to the corpses scattered across the ground, before glancing toward Kanao, who stood nearby, looking up at him in silence.

"Let's bury them," he said softly.

When the last of the corpses had been laid to rest beneath the earth, Soma and Kanao stood before the freshly turned soil, waiting in quiet stillness.

They did not have to wait long.

From the darkness, the boy returned—his axe stained with blood. Yet compared to before, sothing about him had changed. The hesitation that once clung to him had faded, replaced by a newfound steadiness, a quiet maturity settling into his bearing.

"Is it done?" Soma asked as Tanjiro approached.

"…Yes."

Tanjiro tightened his grip slightly, lifting his head as he looked at the demon, tension still lingering in his posture.

"Good."

Soma stepped forward, a smile spreading across his face as he patted the boy's shoulder. "You didn't disappoint in the end."

The tightness in Tanjiro's body finally broke, and he let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Relief washed over him, lightening sothing deep within his chest. He glanced up again, almost instinctively.

The demon was looking at him—gently.

For a fleeting mont, Tanjiro felt dazed, as though he were seeing soone else entirely. That gaze… it reminded him of his father, long ago, looking at him in much the sa way.

Startled by the thought, he quickly lowered his head.

"Co, Tanjiro. It's ti for us to go ho."

"…Yeah."

Soma called to him, taking Kanao's hand as he began walking toward the Kamado household.

Tanjiro remained where he was for a mont, silently repeating the words go ho in his mind as he watched the man and the girl head in that familiar direction.

He lingered there, uncertain for a ti. Then, suddenly, he let out a quiet laugh, as if sothing within him had finally settled into place. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, chasing after their retreating figures—his steps lighter than they had been before.

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