"I need to focus on Intelligence more."
Aoki stretched.
Mental power, control... They all came from Intelligence.
"Speaking of stats, I have two free points."
Aoki looked at the System panel, added the points to Intelligence and Agility.
Strength was good for now.
Demons regenerated fast. Constitution was less important.
"One last reward."
A gourd appeared in Aoki's hand. It was about twenty centimeters tall, pale yellow, plain.
"The Demon Brew Gourd?"
Aoki blinked.
Before he got it, he'd guessed it could hold demons. It could turn them into brew.
Like the Purple Gold Red Gourd from Journey to the West.
He was wrong. Not even close.
The Demon Brew Gourd only held brew. It couldn't hold demons. It couldn't fight. Its special power was turning normal brew into demon brew.
Brew demons could taste.
In a way, that was better than holding demons.
You never knew what you had until it was gone.
Like taste.
Lately, everything tasted like sand. He knew the feeling.
Tasting food again was better than a new fighting skill.
"Almost dawn."
Aoki hung the Demon Brew Gourd on his waist, put on the Sun-Blocking Hat. He walked down the mountain, slow.
Blood Boiling had worn him out. He'd used Space Warp too much, too. He was weak.
He reached the base of the mountain. The sun was rising.
A wide road ran beside the mountain. People walked, cars drove.
A town, busy and bright, lay down the road.
Tall buildings, shops, crowds.
Aoki walked down the street, wearing his hat. He didn't draw much attention.
He'd seen other people wearing hats.
This was Azabu. It was a different world from where he'd lived before.
That place was like the past. This was the start of the modern age.
Aoki felt it. He was in 1910, not 1810.
He left the busy street, turned onto a quieter road.
Shops lined both sides. They sold food.
Udon, ramen, tempura, sushi, eel rice... Every kind of food.
Aoki stopped at one shop.
It was small. A red lantern hung outside. It read "Izakaya."
Aoki touched the Demon Brew Gourd on his waist. He turned, walked into the izakaya.
The shop was small, like it looked from outside. Six tables. A curtain divided the space. Someone was working behind it.
It was early. The izakaya was quiet. Just one customer.
Aoki glanced at her. He froze.
A girl, a flower in bloom. Her face was delicate. She had a beauty mark under each eye. She looked cute.
She wore a pink kimono with flowers. It strained against her chest. She had a figure that didn't fit her age.
But the most striking thing wasn't her face or her body. It was her hair. Pink hair, braided. The tips were light green.
She felt his eyes. She turned, a little surprised. Then, she smiled. Bright, warm.
"The sake and grilled chicken skewers at Yokomuki's are great."
"Thanks."
Aoki looked away, like it was nothing. He took off his hat, sat at a table in the corner.
A woman, still beautiful, came over. She carried a tray with small dishes. She set them on the table.
"What will you drink?"
Aoki took out the Demon Brew Gourd. "Draft beer. And fill this with sake."
"One moment."
The woman took the gourd, left.
A man walked out from behind the curtain. He carried a food box and a sake bottle.
"Little Mitsuri, your grilled chicken skewers and sake are ready. I put some cherry cakes in, too."
"Thanks, Yokomuki!"
The pink-haired girl smiled, took the box and bottle. She ran out, excited.
The man called after her, "Tell your father to come drink here!"
Aoki looked away, quiet.
Mitsuri Kanroji.
The first "familiar face" he'd met in this world, except for Muzan. He didn't know Mukago.
It was about this time. Mitsuri Kanroji hadn't joined the Demon Slayer Corps yet.
If he was human, he might try to talk to her. But he was a demon. He should stay away.
He sat for a while, pretending to drink. More customers came. Aoki left the izakaya, quiet.
He squinted in the bright sunlight. "Need to find a place to live."
He'd stop for a while.
His strength was growing too fast. He wasn't using it well.
He needed to settle down.
In the evening, a young man with thick eyebrows and a kind face stopped Aoki.
"Sir, you... you have a rare bone structure. Great talent. A martial arts genius. Do you... do you want to join our dojo?"
Aoki looked him over. "Rare bone structure? How can you tell?"
The young man blinked. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
Aoki asked, "Who told you to say that?"
He knew this was a rookie.
"I read it in a novel."
The young man blushed. He spoke quickly. "But I'm not lying. Your build... Your posture... You'd be great for Aoki Style."
"Aoki Style?"
Aoki blinked. Was that a serious name?
The young man nodded. "Aoki Style is unarmed combat. Fast, flowing moves. Endless attacks."
"We have something in common, then."
Aoki thought. "Does your dojo have rooms?"
Learning martial arts... It was a good idea.
He wasn't good at fighting up close. He wasn't good at fighting unarmed. He'd been fighting on instinct.
That was one reason he couldn't use all his power.
The young man beamed. "Yes! Yes! We have lots of rooms. If you join, you can live there for free!"
"Let's see it," Aoki said.
He knew something was strange. But he was strong. He didn't mind seeing what was going on.
---
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