So I'm a Narcissist, So What?

Two years before the gears of destiny began turning for the Demon Slayer Corps, a being who did not belong to this world arrived.

The air bit at Shiro's skin as he materialized out of thin air, snowflakes swirling in the gusty wind and dusting his hair and shoulders. He blinked, taking in the dense forest around him. Towering, snow-laden pines surrounded him on all sides, their weighty branches creaking in the oppressive silence.

Shiro exhaled, his breath visible in the freezing air. "Well," he muttered, scanning his unfamiliar surroundings, "this isn't quite what I had in mind."

The cold quickly gnawed at him, prompting him to access the [System Shop]. Within moments, he purchased thick, insulated clothing for 10 points. Warmth enveloped him as he slipped into the snug outfit, transforming him from an idiot into someone ready for an arctic expedition.

"System," Shiro grumbled as he pulled up the [Crossover System] interface, "I specifically said 'near the Kamado residence.' You know, near—as in walking distance. Not... whatever this is."

The system's response chimed in his vision.

> Target Region: Mountainous Area of Kamado Residence. Exact coordinates unspecified. Adjusted to safest nearby location.

Shiro's eye twitched. "Safest nearby location? Since when does 'Kamado residence' translate to 'dump me in the middle of an unmarked snowy wasteland'?"

Rubbing his temples, he groaned. "Alright, fine. At least I didn't land there the day Muzan showed up. I'm not in the mood to audition for Demon Slayer: The Survival Horror Edition." His tone lightened as he continued muttering to himself, "Still, I probably should've been more specific. That's on me. Rookie mistake."

Once he steadied his breath, Shiro straightened and focused on his next steps. "No point whining about it now. First thing's first—I need a weapon. System, give me a high-class [Nichirin Sword]."

> [Uncommon Grade: Nichirin Sword] Purchased. Cost: 1,000 Points.

A flash of light materialized a sleek, polished blade in his hand. The faintly glowing weapon bore intricate patterns on the hilt and emitted a faint hum when swung. Shiro gave it a few experimental swings, satisfied with the craftsmanship.

"Now this," he said, admiring the sword, "is a beauty."

But his grin widened further as he issued another command. "Alright, System. Use ×1 [Crossover Gift]."

> Would you like to use ×1 [Crossover Gift]?

"Yes."

The system's interface flooded his vision.

> Congratulations. You have received:

[Yoriichi Tsugikuni's Template (1% Synchronization)]

Notice: Synchronization rate increases by 1% every 24 hours.

A list of abilities followed:

Yoriichi Tsugikuni's Physique (Constitution)

Yoriichi Tsugikuni's Fighting Spirit (Energy)

Demon Slayer Mark (Trait) [No Drawbacks]

Transparent World (Trait Skill)

Bright Red Nichirin Sword (Trait Skill: Enchantment Type)

Selfless State (Technique)

Sun Breathing (Technique)

Innate Swordsmanship (Talent)

Extrasensory Perception: Aura, Destiny, Fate (Miscellaneous)

Shiro whistled low, scrolling through the abilities. "Yoriichi's template? With no drawbacks? Lady Luck, you've outdone yourself this time." His smirk turned mischievous. "Muzan's going to lose his mind when he sees me."

The system chimed with an additional notification.

> Notice: The user may freely alter their outward appearance to resemble Yoriichi Tsugikuni and vice versa.

Shiro blinked, then burst into laughter. "Oh, I'm absolutely doing that when I meet Muzan. His reaction alone will be worth every second."

Almost immediately, he felt an immense change coursing through his body. His muscles felt more powerful, his senses sharper, and the ever-present fatigue from his [Six Eyes] seemed to diminish considerably.

…

Yoriichi was a name spoken with reverence and awe, even centuries after his time. As the greatest Demon Slayer in history, his impact was immeasurable.

Born during the Sengoku era, a time marked by constant strife, Yoriichi stood out as a prodigy without equal. He developed the first Breathing Style, Sun Breathing, which became the foundation of all other styles. His abilities transcended the limits of ordinary men—at just seven years old, he defeated a trained sword instructor with ease, showcasing his unparalleled talent.

But his strength was matched by his humility. Despite his extraordinary abilities, Yoriichi carried himself with calm dignity, treating himself as no different from those around him. His stoic nature and unwavering kindness made him a figure of inspiration, even as he bore the weight of personal tragedies that would have crushed lesser men.

He had once brought Muzan Kibutsuji to the brink of death, a feat unmatched by anyone before or since. Though Muzan escaped, the encounter left him scarred, his fear of Yoriichi shaping his every move.

Even in his final moments, at the age of 85, Yoriichi's strength had not waned. Facing his brother Michikatsu—now the demon Kokushibo—he nearly ended the fight with a single strike. Had he made a second attack before passing, Kokushibo himself admitted, he would have been killed.

…

Shiro exhaled, adjusting his grip on his new sword as he gazed into the forest. "Alright, Muzan. You better start running," he muttered with a grin. "Because the ghost of Yoriichi is coming for you—and I'm not half as nice as he was."

With that, Shiro began his trek through the snow.

"Yep," Shiro said, rolling his shoulders. "Best decision I've made so far."

He activated [Bright Red Nichirin Sword], channeling his Yoriichi Tsugikuni's [Fighting Spirit] aka [Aura] now his into the blade. The weapon flared to life, its color shifting to a vivid, fiery red. Heat radiated from it, melting the snow at his feet.

"Perfect," Shiro said, admiring the transformation. "Now I just need to figure out where the hell I am." He sheathed the blade and glanced around at the forest. "Maybe I'll run into Tanjiro—or better yet, Nezuko. Gotta rack up those points somehow."

Taking a deep breath, he started trudging through the snow. The cold gnawed at his exposed skin despite his warm clothing, but Shiro was too preoccupied with his thoughts to care.

Shiro began walking, the snow crunching beneath his boots as he moved. The cold was relentless, seeping through his coat and biting at his fingers.

As he trudged through the snowy terrain, grumbling to himself about the system's vague coordinates, Shiro heard the distant sound of barking. He stopped, his ears pricking up. The barking was sharp and frantic, echoing through the forest.

"Finally, something alive," Shiro muttered, altering his course to follow the noise. After a few minutes, he emerged into a small clearing.

>Crossover System Alert

Minor Characters Detected:

-Yae

-Turo

Rewards: [20 Points]

Shiro paused, his mind racing through a sea of names and faces, but none seemed to match the ones that had been mentioned. His curiosity piqued, he leaned forward slightly, trying to recall any details that might trigger recognition, but the memories remained stubbornly out of reach.

There, a girl knelt beside a barking dog. She wore a short patterned coat fastened with a belt and a cloak of animal skins draped over her shoulders. Her dark hair was tied back, and a hunting rifle was slung across her back.

The dog noticed Shiro first, its growls cutting through the cold air as it placed itself protectively in front of the girl.

"Well, hello to you too," Shiro said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Not exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for."

The girl stood quickly, turning to face him with narrowed eyes. "Who are you?"

"Relax," Shiro said, taking a step closer. "I'm just a traveler. Saw the dog and thought I'd check what's going on. No need to point the gun at me." He nodded toward the rifle slung across her back.

The dog barked again, its teeth bared, and Shiro sighed. "Alright, I get it. No sudden moves."

The girl's eyes didn't leave him. "What are you doing here?"

Shiro hesitated, glancing at the endless expanse of snow around them. "Honestly? I'm still figuring that out myself. Let's just say I'm a little... off course."

Her expression remained wary, but her posture relaxed slightly. "This forest isn't safe. What were you thinking, wandering around here alone?"

Shiro chuckled. "What can I say? I like to keep things interesting."

The dog growled again, and Shiro gave it a sidelong glance. "Your dog really doesn't seem to like me, huh?"

"He's protective," the girl said simply. "And smart."

"Smart enough to know I'm harmless," Shiro said with a grin.

Shiro waved his hand dismissively. "Figure of speech. By the way, you got a name? Or should I just call you 'Scary Girl with the Rifle?'"

She hesitated before answering. "Yae."

"Yae, huh?" Shiro said, testing the name. "Nice to meet you, Yae. And the grumpy pup?"

She didn't answer, instead motioning for him to follow. "The nearest village isn't far. Come on."

Shiro fell into step behind her, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. The dog stayed close to her, throwing the occasional warning growl his way.

As they walked, Shiro studied Yae's movements. Despite the heavy snow, her steps were light and sure, a testament to her skill and familiarity with the terrain.

"So, Yae," he said after a while, "what's a girl like you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Hunting," she replied curtly.

"All by yourself?"

"I don't need anyone else," she said, her tone sharp.

Shiro raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Confident. I like it."

Yae shot him a quick glare but said nothing.

As they continued walking, the forest grew darker, the tall trees casting long shadows across the snow. Shiro's senses sharpened, his fingers brushing against the hilt of his sword.

"So," he said casually, "about this village... should I expect warm welcomes or pitchforks?"

Yae glanced back at him, her expression unreadable. "Depends on how much you talk."

Shiro chuckled. "Fair enough."

The dog barked once, and Shiro sighed. "Even your dog thinks I talk too much. Tough crowd."