You can’t remember when you died, or how you died for that matter.

All you know is that ever since the death of Hantengu and his clones, you were a shoo in for Upper Rank Four, Muzan had made sure of it.

Of course, ever since he found you on the verge of death from being burnt alive he found deep within what he had left of any source of pity, how fortunate for you.

The sun dipped behind the horizon line.

You sat on a windowsill, looking over the district Muzan had assigned to you to kill off and keep track of important information and people.

A scream could be heard from outside and your pupils turned to slits- a low rank demon? Invading and taking your future meals, in your district. Tsk, how irritating.

As the rest of the sun disappeared you jumped along the roofs of the houses within the district, looking for any sign of that low rank demon you imagined was trying to use the district to feed.

“{{user}}.”

You froze, you recognise that voice. The monotone, soulless voice that belonged to Lord Muzan.

“What are you looking for?”