Akaza's tasks for the bandit-demons varied in difficulty.
For them, the third task—killing Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen—was somewhat doable. The second, finding the Corps headquarters, was extremely tough. The first, locating the Blue Spider Lily? Even Muzan Kibutsuji hadn't managed that.
Clearly, Akaza was using them as cannon fodder.
The bandit-demons, unaware of his intentions, knelt trembling, accepting the tasks.
After assigning them, Akaza left without a second glance, annoyed by their presence.
Relieved, the bandit-demons stood, drenched in cold sweat, minds dulled by fear. Who said demons couldn't die? They'd nearly met their end!
Recovering, one bandit-demon asked their leader, "Boss, those three tasks…"
The leader shuddered, roaring, "We'll do them with all we've got! Finding some flower and a headquarters, killing a few people—easy! We're demons now. Aside from avoiding daylight, what can't we do? That Blue Spider Lily? Tons of plants in these mountains, it'll be a breeze! The Corps headquarters? A big place like that? Even easier! Killing their swordsmen… sounds tricky, but we'll get stronger and wipe them out eventually!"
Ignorance bred boldness.
Tasks even Muzan might not accomplish seemed trivial in their mouths.
If Akaza were still here, he'd regret turning them, cursing the waste of his blood.
One bandit-demon had a bright idea. "Boss, we're strong now. Why not take revenge on that guy who nearly killed us?"
He meant Horitake.
The leader paused, tempted, but something felt off. Rubbing his bald head, he recalled, "Wait! That guy's uniform… wasn't he from the Demon Slayer Corps?"
"What? No way, we're that unlucky?"
"So, do we still go for revenge?"
The leader slapped the suggester, fuming. "Revenge? Are you nuts? Didn't that guy say their Nichirin Blades can kill us? You want to die? Hide, eat more humans, get stronger—then we'll settle the score!"
Horitake, unaware of the drama, continued his journey back to Peach Mountain.
Climbing the mountain, he saw Jigoro's cabin across the way, feeling a long-lost sense of home.
Horitake took a deep breath and shouted, "Old man! Zenitsu! I'm back! I passed the Final Selection!"
A breeze blew. No response. No one emerged. Just a few leaves fell.
Awkward.
Horitake smacked his head. Of course—Jigoro and Zenitsu were probably training on the mountain.
His shout had echoed across Peach Mountain. They'd come if they heard.
Sure enough, they did.
Horitake sensed them and turned.
"Help! Big Bro, save me! I'm gonna die!"
"Zenitsu! No running! Back to training!"
From afar, Jigoro chased a fleeing Zenitsu, kicking up dust as they raced closer.
Seeing them so lively, Horitake relaxed.
Zenitsu, tears streaming in terror, spotted Horitake like a savior. Eyes bright, he bolted behind him, clutching his clothes tightly.
Horitake's face darkened at the pathetic display.
Jigoro, brandishing his cane, charged up. "Get back here, Zenitsu! No hiding behind Horitake! Train!"
Zenitsu peeked out, screaming hysterically, "No way! That training will kill me! I'll die! Big Bro, save me!"
"Brat, don't protect him! Make him come out!"
Horitake's face darkened further. "Old man, I just got back, passed the Final Selection, and you've got nothing to say?"
Jigoro slammed his cane down, turning his ire on Horitake. "Oh, I've got plenty to say."
"What? A compliment? No need for that…"
"Not that!"
"Huh? Then what?"
Jigoro roared, "You punk! Gone so long, then sneaking off to Corps headquarters after passing the Selection without a word! Not even a crow's message! I thought you were dead when you didn't return on time! If I hadn't sent my crow to check, I wouldn't know you were at headquarters! Couldn't you send word to ease my mind? Would it kill you!?"
Horitake sweated, eyes twitching. He'd messed up. After passing, he'd gone straight to headquarters without notifying Peach Mountain, delaying his return and worrying Jigoro.
He couldn't argue. Head bowed, he endured the scolding for minutes before pulling Zenitsu out to share the heat. "Old man, my bad. Lesson learned. But look, Zenitsu's been slacking behind me. Aren't you gonna train him?"
Zenitsu, dragged out, despaired. "Big Bro! How could you!? Am I your junior or not!?"
"Silly little brother, don't you know juniors are for selling out?"
Horitake fanned the flames. "Old man, you've already trained one Corps swordsman. Don't you want another?"
Jigoro paused, eyeing the shameless Horitake, feeling like his "main account" had flopped. If the big one failed, the small one needed extra effort!
Grabbing Zenitsu by the collar, Jigoro dragged him off, shouting at Horitake, "You worried me for days, punk! You owe me a feast, cooked by you! A real feast, not some watery soup!"
Zenitsu, dragged along, wailed, "Big Bro, save me! This training will kill me! I'm doomed!"
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