Taisho Era.
The town at the foot of Mt.
Fujikasane was blanketed in white.
A heavy snow had fallen last night.
Drifting flakes coated the roads and houses, dressing everything in silver.
Despite the bitter cold, many people were already up early, trying to make a living.
Decades had passed since the corrupt Shogunate was overthrown, yet the daily struggles of the common folk remained unchanged.
The poor starved while the rich lived in excess.
Everything was exactly the same.
The innkeeper had just opened his front door when he found a youth standing at the entrance.
Snowflakes rested heavily on his shoulders, he’d been waiting a while.
“Are you open today?”
The innkeeper blinked, surprised to have a customer so early.
He instinctively sized up the boy before him.
Hajime had fine hair and a delicate, almost girlish face.
He wore a red haori.
Strapped to his back was a long object wrapped tightly in cloth, obscuring its true shape.
The innkeeper paused, silently wondering what it could be, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“Y-Yes, of course!
Please, come in.”
The innkeeper ushered Hajime inside and asked eagerly, “What would you like to eat?”
Hajime smiled amiably.
“Warm up some sake, and bring two plates of fennel beans.”
“Fennel beans?”
The innkeeper rubbed his bald head, bewildered.
The sake was easy enough, but what on earth were fennel beans?
He had turned his home into an inn years ago, yet he had never heard of them.
Some new Western import, perhaps?
Hajime didn’t mind.
“You don’t have them?
Just bring a few side dishes, then.”
The innkeeper sighed with relief and bowed.
“Please wait a moment.
Your food will be right out.”
He hurried off to the kitchen.
Hajime took the long object off his back, placed it within easy reach, and sat cross-legged on the tatami.
‘Has it already been a year and a half since I transmigrated to this world?
Time really flies.’
His luck was terrible.
The moment he transmigrated, he ran straight into a demon.
Just when he thought he was done for, a short, elderly man passing by saved him.
He later learned this old man was Jigoro Kuwajima, Demon Slayer Corps Former Thunder Hashira.
Penniless and alone, he had nowhere to go.
Jigoro took him in.
Hajime became his disciple and spent a year and a half learning Thunder Breathing and all its sword forms.
The reason he was here now?
Jigoro believed he had nothing left to teach him.
If Hajime could pass the Final Selection, he would become an official demon slayer.
Learning Thunder Breathing and its sword forms hadn’t been because Hajime was a prodigy.
It was because of the system bound to his body the moment he arrived.
[Name: Hajime Hiroda]
[Attributes] [Strength: E]
[Endurance: E]
[Agility: E]
[Luck: B]
[Skills]
[Total Concentration Breathing: E]
The general term for the techniques developed by Demon Slayer Corps to enable humans to fight demons.
Its primary use is to strengthen cardiopulmonary function, allowing the blood to absorb massive amounts of oxygen.
It can instantly boost physical capabilities significantly, granting the user a physique on par with a demon for a short time.
[Thunder Breathing (Learned Six Sword Forms): D-]
One of the five foundational Breathing styles derived from Sun Breathing.
It is a discipline full of passion, practiced only by those as swift as lightning.
It is the fastest and most explosive of all Breathing styles, demanding an extreme level of physique from its users, making it incredibly difficult to master.
The strikes are overwhelmingly fast, the sheer speed of these high-speed charges generates a roaring thunderclap in the surrounding air.
[Equipment:]
[Nichirin Blade: E]
A borrowed weapon, temporarily loaned by his Master for the Final Selection, forged from Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Crimson Ore that have absorbed sunlight.
Severing a demon’s head with this blade will reduce the it to ash.
(A/N: Purpose of system is so that as long as he has knowledge, practiced enough and killed enough demons, he can learn any breathing styles.
He won’t be restricted by body’s talent.)
All of the above was the information that came to mind when Hajime opened the system.
When he first transmigrated, every attribute besides Luck was F.
He had raised them to E through grueling training.
Total Concentration Breathing and Thunder Breathing Sword Forms operated the same way.
After putting in the work to train, the knowledge he learned solidified within the system.
Once proficiency reached 100%, he would truly master the skill.
He had genuinely learned Total Concentration Breathing and all the Thunder Breathing Sword Forms, but he was not delusional enough to think he was unstoppable.
A sword form is a sword form, and a swordsman is a swordsman.
There are no weak sword forms, only weak swordsmen.
The exact same sword form unleashed by a Hashira is completely different from one performed by an ordinary recruit.
Simply learning Total Concentration Breathing and all the Thunder Breathing Sword Forms was nothing to be proud of.
He at least had to pass the Final Selection, survive Mt.
Fujikasane, and become an official swordsman.
And that was only the first step.
To survive in this world, he had to become stronger.
No matter the time, no matter the place, he could never abandon the pursuit of power.
After arriving here, Hajime had never once considered living as an ordinary person.
This was an era where demons truly existed.
The people of this age generally held a misconception about them.
Rumors of evil demons had never vanished, but most refused to believe they were real.
They dismissed the stories as nothing more than tales to frighten children and cowards.
They held this belief not because ordinary people rarely encountered demons in their lifetime.
It was because the ordinary people who did encounter demons had all been killed.
Assuming one could live out their days safely as an ordinary civilian was a grave mistake.
Running away solved nothing.
Only by becoming stronger could he survive in this dangerous world.
After breakfast, Hajime rented a room at the inn to rest.
He stayed inside, eating lunch and dinner in his room, until the last rays of the setting sun faded away.
As night fell and a full moon hung high, he finally stepped out of the inn.
Treading over the snow under the cold moonlight, he made his way toward the dark silhouette looming in the distance.
That was Mt.
Fujikasane, the venue for the Final Selection.
Ever since the Heian period, rumors of demons eating people have circulated throughout this country.
The rumors have endured for a thousand years, passed down continuously instead of fading into history.
People have never seen a demon with their own eyes, so most consider it superstition.
In reality, demons exist, and they do eat people.
Ordinary folk who encounter demons mostly die, rarely surviving to tell the tale.
Demon Slayer Corps is an ancient organization that has existed for a thousand years without government recognition.
For a millennium, its swordsmen have dedicated themselves to the great mission of slaying demons and protecting humanity.
To become an official swordsman, one must receive training from a Trainer and pass the Final Selection.
The examination site for the Final Selection is set up on Mt.
Fujikasane.
Wisteria flowers lined both sides of the road as it climbed from the mountain’s foot.
Purple blossoms hung down from the trees, beautiful and breathtaking.
A sea of flowers.
These wisteria blossoms served as the most faithful guardians, severing the mountain above from the ground below.
The scent filled his nostrils as he crossed the road, stepped onto the stone stairs, and reached a broad platform.
Several red pillars rose around the platform, heavy ropes stretched between them.
Paper talismans inscribed with blessings for protection and prosperity hung from the ropes.
Behind the platform, two more stone stairways led further up the mountain.
At the edge of the platform stood two children.
Looking barely human.
Identical hairstyles.
Identical hair ornaments.
Identical faces, expressions, and attire.
Even the lanterns in their hands were identical.
They looked carved from the exact same mold.
When they spoke, their voices merged seamlessly.
“Visitors, please halt.”
“This is private property, not open to the public.
Please return the way you came.”
Hajime looked around, wondering why there were no other examinees here.
He answered smoothly.
“My name is Hajime Hiroda.
I’ve been training under Jigoro Kuwajima, the Former Thunder Hashira, for a year and a half.
He sent me to take the Final Selection.”
A thoughtful expression crossed the two children’s faces.
“The Former Thunder Hashira?”
“Correct.
Hajime’s name is indeed on the list.”
“In that case, you may enter.”
“Survive seven days within this Mt.
Fujikasane.
That is the passing condition.”
The two children bowed in unison, their voices echoing as one.
“Then, please have a safe journey.”
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