Tamayo gazed at Hajime.
If her murdered child had grown up, perhaps he would have been as gentle as this young swordsman.
“Tamayo?
Are you alright?”
She snapped back to reality.
Without realizing it, hot tears were streaming steadily down her face.
“It’s…
it’s nothing.
The wind is just a bit sharp tonight.”
Hajime nodded, politely pretending not to notice.
“I will head downstairs first.
It is getting quite late, and staying up is bad for your health.
Please rest early as well,” she murmured, quickly dabbing at her tears before hurrying back down the hatch.
Minutes later, heavy footsteps pounded up the wooden stairs.
One listen told him it wasn’t Tamayo returning.
Yushiro’s furious face appeared over the ledge.
“Kids shouldn’t stay up late.
Go back to sleep,” Hajime deadpanned.
“I’m not a kid!
I’m thirty-five years old!” Yushiro exploded, leaping onto the roof.
“What?” Hajime gasped dramatically.
“Are you also a genius detective trapped in a shrunken body?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Yushiro scowled.
“No, do not change the subject!” He marched over, jabbing a hard finger at Hajime’s chest.
“What did you do to Lady Tamayo?
Why was she crying?!”
“I didn’t do anything.” Hajime was genuinely baffled.
He had just been enjoying the breeze.
Tamayo had sat down, remembered something incredibly painful, and left in tears.
Their entire conversation hadn’t even exceeded ten sentences.
What could he have possibly done to warrant this angry interrogation?
Yushiro’s fury only spiked at his innocent expression.
“There is no way you did nothing!
Do not tell me you are going to use some pathetic excuse like ‘the wind made her eyes water’!”
“That isn’t an excuse, it’s literally what happaned…” Hajime replied seriously.
“You bastard!” Yushiro screamed.
Even knowing he was no physical match for the slayer, his pride wouldn’t let him back down.
Just then, Hajime spoke up casually.
“Yushiro, you’re deeply in love with Tamayo, aren’t you?”
The aggressive hostility evaporated instantly.
Yushiro stared wide-eyed, looking as if he’d been struck by lightning.
“How…
how do you know?”
“A blind man could tell after spending five minutes in the same room as you.”
Yushiro’s pale cheeks flushed bright red.
He snapped in pure mortification.
“If you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll kill you.”
“Good luck with that,” Hajime scoffed.
Yushiro’s pride stung, but the swordsman’s next words eased his sudden panic.
“I don’t plan on broadcasting your private feelings anyway.
And besides, even though demons biologically cannot have children, it doesn’t matter.
As long as two people truly care for each other, they don’t need offspring to validate their bond.”
Hajime glanced at Yushiro, who remained stubbornly silent.
“Yushiro, you know Tamayo has a terribly painful past, right?
Even now, she is completely trapped by that grief.”
Yushiro nodded stiffly.
He had spent decades by her side.
Tamayo never spoke of it, and he never pried, but being with her day and night meant he eventually pieced together the fragments of her trauma.
It was most obvious when she slept, her beautiful face wearing sheer agony as she relived nightmares she desperately wished to forget.
Seeing the woman he adored suffer filled Yushiro with fierce, helpless frustration.
He felt utterly useless.
Beyond fetching blood and standing guard, he could not ease her burden at all.
Hajime leaned forward, locking eyes with the demon.
“The monster who broke her, who keeps her chained to that nightmare, is the Progenitor of Demons, Muzan Kibutsuji.
So you understand, don’t you?
Whether you want to protect her or help her achieve revenge, you need to get far stronger.”
Yushiro absorbed the heavy words.
“But let me be absolutely clear,” Hajime warned, his tone dropping to a lethal chill.
“Getting stronger does not mean eating humans.
If you even entertain the thought, I will execute you on the spot and scatter your ashes in the sun.”
Yushiro’s face flushed hot with fresh anger, veins bulging at his temples.
“How dare you accuse me of that!”
To be completely fair, the intrusive thought had crossed Yushiro’s mind for a fraction of a second.
A demon’s physique was stagnant.
They did not grow through physical training, they evolved solely by consuming human flesh.
But Yushiro had instantly crushed the dark impulse.
Doing so would irreversibly break Tamayo’s heart.
No matter his noble intentions, she would never tolerate him staining his hands with innocent blood.
It would make him no better than Muzan himself.
Even without the swordsman’s lethal threat, Yushiro would rather burn in the sun than betray her ideals.
In the days that followed, Hajime relentlessly continued his training.
Slowly but surely, the system proficiency meter filled.
Finally, upon reaching one hundred percent, the blank skill materialized into a clear designation:
[Insight: D-]
This ability allowed him to read an opponent’s subtle muscle twitches, making it impossible to be easily deceived by combat feints.
Hajime analyzed the text in the panel.
Seeing through physical movements was an incredibly practical tool.
If he leveled it up enough, he might even naturally achieve the Transparent World state.
Accessing the Transparent World was absolutely essential for fighting Muzan.
Without it, challenging Muzan was pure suicide.
But Hajime felt no desperate rush.
Panic was useless, steady, grueling effort was the only reliable path forward.
With his objective complete, Hajime prepared to leave Tokyo.
Tamayo and Yushiro saw him off at the hidden courtyard gate.
Just before he stepped into the alley, Tamayo spoke up.
“Hajime, over the centuries, I have been attempting to formulate a cure to turn demons back into humans.
However, I am missing a crucial ingredient.”
“A crucial ingredient?” He already had a solid guess.
“The blood of the Twelve Kizuki.
Aside from devouring humans, the only way demons can evolve is by receiving direct infusions of Muzan’s blood.
The Twelve Kizuki hold the highest concentrations of it.”
“They are elite demons second only to Muzan himself.
Securing their blood will be exceedingly dangerous, but you are remarkably skilled.
Even compared to the Hashira, you do not pale in comparison.
Therefore…
could I ask you to collect as much Kizuki blood as possible?”
Hajime agreed without a second’s hesitation.
“Not a problem.
Leave it to me.”
Yushiro shoved a small pouch into his hands, his expression ice-cold.
Baffled, Hajime opened the drawstring to find several strangely shaped throwing knives inside.
The steel blades were hollowed out through the center, transitioning seamlessly into glass vials built directly into the handles.
“These are extraction tools of my own design,” Yushiro muttered proudly.
“After you decapitate a Twelve Kizuki, just plunge the blade into their flesh before the body dissolves.
The mechanism will draw the blood automatically.
Understood?”
“It’s automatic?
That’s genuinely impressive engineering.
Good going,” Hajime praised.
He realized that Yushiro’s inability to train physically didn’t matter.
He was a brilliant scientist.
Logistics and research personnel stationed safely in the rear were just as vital as the frontline swordsmen.
Hearing the genuine praise, Yushiro scoffed.
“It is a simple invention, nothing more.” Despite his tone, the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
It was a brilliant device, leaving only one logistical issue.
“After I collect a sample, how do I deliver it?
Should I use my Kasugai crows?” Hajime’s unusual bird served as his primary Corps liaison.
He wasn’t worried about the bird reporting him for fraternizing with demons.
Kagaya was already fully aware of Tamayo’s existence.
“You don’t need to risk your bird,” Tamayo assured him.
“I will have a cat follow you.”
“A cat?”
Tamayo clapped her hands softly, and a sharp meow sounded.
Hajime blinked in surprise.
A small calico cat materialized out of thin air.
A tiny wooden box was strapped tightly to its back, and a paper talisman hung beneath its neck.
Hajime reached down and scratched the feline behind the ears.
The soft fur felt incredibly pleasant.
No wonder cats had enslaved half of humanity.
The calico closed its eyes, purring loudly into his palm before giving his knuckles a rough lick.
With the greeting finished, the familiar meowed, dissolved into black smoke, and vanished perfectly into the shadows.
Hajime secured the pouch of knives inside his uniform.
He stepped into the street and waved over his shoulder.
“Well then, I’m off.”
Tamayo bowed deeply in farewell.
Beside her, Yushiro scowled in extreme annoyance, but reluctantly mirrored her respectful bow.
It was barely dawn.
Hajime walked along the dirt road outside Tokyo, watching local farmers who had already risen to work the damp fields.
Suddenly, a pigeon he hadn’t seen in days violently flapped its wings and screeched from the sky.
“Message!
Message!
Mizunoto-ranked Swordsman, Hajime, hear your orders!
Head north-northeast at once!
Meet-up with other Demon Slayers and investigate the local disappearances!
North-northeast!
North-northeast!”
The screaming bird drew sidelong glances from the weary farmers, but that was the extent of their curiosity.
A grueling day of labor awaited them, and hungry mouths at home needed feeding.
They had no leisure time to gawk at a talking bird.
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