Hearing Jigoro's praise, Ryōsuke's pupils shrank, his whole body going rigid.
"Grandpa, it's not—"
Before he could explain, the sound of a wooden sword clattering to the ground rang out behind him.
Ryōsuke's heart sank.
It's over. Completely screwed.
"Ryōsuke—brother—!"
Rika's tear-choked cry shattered the silence.
She practically threw herself at him, wide almond eyes sweeping in panic over Hinatsuru and the other two women behind him.
The next second, Rika lowered her gaze… and glanced down at her own chest.
Rika: Σ_(꒪ཀ꒪」∠)!
In that instant, the girl grew up.
Before, it had only been imagination—now she truly understood the difference between a Simmons mattress and a wooden plank.
Rika's eyes filled with tears as she practically chibi-fied on the spot.
"Waaah—! Ryōsuke-brother! Wuwuwu…!"
Her little fists pounded his chest in complete disorder.
"Don't—don't like older women! And… and three at once! Wuwu… I hate you! I hate you the most!"
She clung to him completely, crying so hard she could barely breathe, looking every bit like a tragic heroine betrayed by a heartless scoundrel.
"No! Rika, listen to me! Grandpa, you too—"
Ryōsuke tried to steady Rika while desperately attempting to explain to Jigoro, utterly overwhelmed.
"YA—SUI—RYŌ—SUKE!!!"
A thunderclap erupted from flat ground.
Shōta, overflowing with resentment and practically evolving into some twisted subspecies, crawled out of the darkness with murderous intent.
Nichirin blade in hand, he bared his teeth and charged straight at Ryōsuke.
"You dared make Rika cry! I'll chop you into pieces, you bastard!!!"
The blade tore through the air, carrying all of Shōta's fury as it cleaved straight toward Ryōsuke's face!
"Shōta! Stop!"
Jigoro shouted in shock and anger, instantly stepping between them and cracking Shōta on the head with his cane.
The scene spiraled completely out of control—pure chaos.
"Ryōsuke-brother! Waaaah—!"
Rika was still sobbing in his arms, her small hands gripping his haori like her life depended on it.
"Grandpa, let go of me! I'm going to kill this jerk! He actually—actually—!"
Shōta thrashed violently, blade waving dangerously.
"No! Just let me finish explaining! They're—"
Pinned by Rika and threatened by Shōta's sword, Ryōsuke was utterly speechless, sweat pouring down his forehead.
"T-Tengen-sama…"
Suma hid behind Uzui Tengen, peeking out with terrified eyes.
Hinatsuru and Makio were calmer, though even they couldn't hide their awkward expressions.
As for Uzui Tengen—he was completely dumbfounded.
His face twitched slightly, and for the first time, he regretted the rash decision he'd made at dawn.
"…Is this Momoyama a proper place?"
As the farce escalated, Ryōsuke shot him a desperate look for help.
Uzui rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.
"Enough!!!"
The shout was powerful and resonant.
Everyone froze as if someone had pressed pause, all eyes snapping toward him.
Uzui crossed his arms and swept his gaze across the crowd.
"You there—one-legged grandfather! And you, kid waving a sword around! And you, young lady crying way too loudly! Allow me, Uzui Tengen, to make a flamboyant clarification!"
He turned smoothly, arm sweeping out to indicate the three women behind him.
"Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma are my—Uzui Tengen's—flamboyantly unparalleled wives! We merely followed Ryōsuke's guidance to Momoyama in search of refuge!"
The air fell dead silent for several seconds.
Jigoro looked at Ryōsuke, clearly seeking confirmation.
Ryōsuke nodded like a frantic pecking chick.
Only then did Jigoro clear his throat and bow slightly to Hinatsuru and the others, pulling Rika and Shōta back with him.
"Ahem… I see! Our sincerest apologies, young man—and to the three ladies as well! I, Kuwajima Jigoro, offer my apologies on behalf of Momoyama!"
Shōta clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath.
"Well, it's his own fault for not explaining clearly…"
Rika looked at Ryōsuke, eyes full of hopeful expectation.
Rika: (◕﹏◕✿) stare—
Ryōsuke nodded heavily.
Rika broke into a silly smile, let go of him, and shyly hid behind Jigoro.
The farce finally settled, and Momoyama returned to rare peace.
Jigoro quietly scolded Ryōsuke.
"Can't you show a bit more promise, you brat?! Look at that handsome lad—three wives! Three!"
Ryōsuke couldn't argue and could only smile weakly in response.
Silently, he slipped into a corner and poured the five years of lifespan he'd saved into his technique.
[5 years of lifespan infused.
Remaining lifespan: 338 days.]
[Thunderclap and Flash upgraded to Minor Mastery.
Advanced form unlocked: Sixfold!]
Finally—longer and stronger.
Jigoro then began explaining the Demon Slayer Corps' mission and history to Uzui Tengen.
Uzui, in turn, frankly shared his own background.
With four extra mouths to feed, Hinatsuru and the others helped with cooking.
When the dishes were served, they instantly conquered everyone's senses.
Praise poured in nonstop; Shōta alone downed three full bowls of rice.
Faced with all the compliments, Hinatsuru only smiled gently.
"Thank you. When shinobi carry out missions, we often have to disguise ourselves to approach targets. Poisoning is a basic skill. To precisely control dosage and mask odors, culinary training is… fundamental."
The lively atmosphere at the table froze instantly.
"P-Poison?!"
The piece of fish Shōta had been lifting dropped back into his bowl, his expression stiff.
Even Rika instinctively glanced at the food in front of her.
Uzui Tengen was the first to laugh, slapping his forehead.
"Hah! Hinatsuru, don't bring up such unflamboyant details at times like this! Look how scared everyone is!"
He raised his cup and drained it in one go.
"Relax and eat! Tonight's meal is flamboyantly delicious!"
His hearty laughter dispelled the lingering chill.
Ryōsuke smiled and spoke up to ease the mood.
"Yeah… I trust the flamboy—Uzui."
"I'm sorry for alarming everyone."
Hinatsuru inclined her head slightly.
But the revelation only deepened Rika and the others' curiosity.
"Ninjas! I thought they only existed in stories!" Rika exclaimed in awe.
"No wonder they're so skilled," Shōta added.
Uzui and his wives exchanged a few words, and the atmosphere grew warm again.
Under the moonlight, the peach grove looked almost dreamlike.
On the wooden veranda outside the dojo, Uzui Tengen sat alone, leaning against the doorway with a sake gourd in hand.
His daytime flamboyance mellowed with the night.
A breeze brushed his silver hair, softening even his sharp features.
Light footsteps sounded behind him.
Uzui didn't turn, simply passing another gourd over.
Ryōsuke sat down silently and took a sip.
For a while, neither spoke—only insects chirping and the distant murmur of a stream filled the air.
A tiny squeak broke the quiet.
Several burly mice wearing jeweled headbands appeared, hauling plates and sake jars larger than themselves.
The ninja mice set everything neatly in front of Uzui and flexed proudly, squeaking as if claiming credit.
Uzui flicked their heads lightly.
"Good work, you flamboyant little fellows."
The mice puffed out their chests, then vanished back into the shadows.
Brother Flashy really is rich, Ryōsuke thought.
Even his ninja mice wear gemstones.
Still, creatures trained like this—clever and loyal—were undeniably charming.
"Excellent partners," Ryōsuke said softly, watching them go.
"Indeed… flamboyant and reliable partners," Uzui replied, taking another drink.
Perhaps loosened by the alcohol, he chuckled, recalling the daytime chaos.
"Momoyama is… interesting."
"As long as you don't find it too noisy," Ryōsuke said helplessly.
Uzui shook his head, eyes growing thoughtful.
"Noise means they're alive—human. Not machines."
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
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