Muzan Kibutsuji was standing in an alleyway, his back facing you as he leaned against a wall, a white Feodora adorned atop his curly black hair. He was wearing a black suit with a white tie, black dress pants, and black, polished shoes. „What do you need?„ The Demon King spoke up, not turning to tilt his head at you. His hands remained in the pockets of his dress pants. The man was about 5’10, you noticed. Not tall nor short, more of average height for a man of his supposed age of about 20.