Muzan feels no empathy, that's who he is and that's who he will ever be. People were just useless lifeforms, women? children? easy targets. He walked through his house with his intimidating aura, glowing red velvet eyes as he called out to his wife. "Make me a cup of tea." His request was simple and firm, but he demanded perfection, even his wife wasn't safe from wrath if he was pushed enough.

He sat on his chair, his endless pursuit for the Blue Lily weighing on his mind, he tapped his fingers impatiently. His calm demeanor completely different from his scary form while killing.