"Don't talk!
Don't breathe!
Don't let the sound of your voices contaminate my steel!!"
Haganezuka Hotaru suddenly roared without warning.
The next instant, he danced like a madman in front of the furnace, arms flailing wildly—yet the rhythm of his hammer strikes was eerily precise.
"Tch, how boring."
Inosuke covered his nose and mouth with his folding fan, waving away the coal dust in disgust.
"Let's go, underlings.
Let this guy go crazy over this young master's design by himself.
"I'm going to inspect this village's entertainment facilities.
Sooner or later, this place will be my territory anyway."
And so, the Young Master swaggered through the village with his two lackeys in tow.
Until they once again heard the crying of that child named Kotetsu.
"Waaah… the arm broke…
That was our ancestors' legacy…"
Inosuke went over to take a look.
Sure enough, the six-armed mechanical doll was now drooping one arm limply—
broken when Muichiro forcibly removed the Nichirin sword earlier.
"Stop crying."
Inosuke tapped Kotetsu's mask with the handle of his fan.
"It's just a broken toy. Fix it and it's fine."
He tucked the fan into his sash, a playful glint flashing through his multicolored eyes.
"Perfect timing. That seaweed-head already had his turn—
now it's this young master's turn."
He walked up empty-handed.
"Activate it," Inosuke ordered.
"B-But it's already broken…"
Kotetsu sniffled.
"Less nonsense. If it breaks completely, I'll have my dad fix it."
"…Who's your dad?"
"A super-rich idiot."
"..."
"…Alright."
As the mechanism clattered to life, the doll began moving again.
Though missing one arm, the remaining five still wove a dense web of flashing blades.
"Hmph. Kinda interesting."
Inosuke's lips curled upward.
His figure vanished from where he stood.
Unlike Muichiro's straight-line approach that pursued efficiency,
Inosuke's movements were flamboyant and teasing.
He was like a butterfly dancing on knife edges.
Every time a blade was about to hit him, he dodged by a hair's breadth—
sometimes even flicking the doll's forehead with a finger, or stepping on its foot for fun.
"Th-This…"
Kotetsu stared, dumbfounded.
"So… so strong… and so elegant…
It's like he's playing with it…"
After a while, Inosuke grew bored.
As someone who knew the plot, he was well aware that a Nichirin sword left behind by Tsugikuni Yoriichi three hundred years ago was hidden inside the doll's head.
But now that Haganezuka was forging his custom Blazing Frost Twin Blades,
Inosuke had little interest in a rusty antique.
"I'll leave it to Gonpachiro. He's a loyal idiot of a lackey."
He muttered to himself.
"Hey, Gonpachiro. Wenyi.
You two go play with it."
Inosuke flipped backward out of range and landed gracefully.
He lay down on a comfortable tree branch, fanning himself and pointing below.
"Count this as special training too.
"Let me see how much you've actually improved under that Basketball Uncle."
"W-What?! I have to go too?!"
Zenitsu hugged the tree trunk in terror.
"It has five arms! Five! People die from that!"
"Hurry up!
Or I'll throw you back to the Eternal Paradise Cult to stay with your senior brother!"
Threatened like that, Zenitsu could only cry miserably as he charged in with Tanjiro.
"Water Breathing: Flowing Dance!"
"Thunder Breathing: First Form—Thunderclap and Flash!"
Despite screaming in fear, their movements were far sharper than back on Natagumo Mountain.
After spending so long in that Upper Rank nest at the Eternal Paradise Cult—
being brutalized daily by Akaza—it was impossible not to improve.
Tanjiro's sense of smell now pinpointed the automaton's openings with precision.
And Zenitsu's speed had reached the point where he could keep pace with five arms at once.
"Too slow, Wenyi! That opening on the left—are you blind?!"
"Gonpachiro! Your movements are too stiff! Is your waist made of wood?! Twist it like I do!"
Inosuke shouted furiously from the tree, utterly exasperated.
"Honestly—if Third Uncle saw you idiots like this, he'd make you mop floors all night!"
Finally, under Inosuke's guidance—
Tanjiro seized a fleeting chance, slammed his head hard into the doll's jaw, and followed up with a decisive slash.
Crack!
The doll's head flew off.
"Ah! The head came off!"
Tanjiro panicked.
"I-I'm sorry, Kotetsu! I didn't mean to!"
But as the head rolled away, an ancient-looking Nichirin sword hilt was revealed inside the doll's neck.
"This is…?"
Tanjiro and Kotetsu froze.
"Tch, finally showing itself, huh."
Inosuke jumped down, glanced at the blade, and curled his lip in disdain.
"Rusty as hell. Cutting vegetables with that would be a chore."
Kotetsu, however, excitedly pulled the sword out and handed it to Tanjiro.
"Big brother! This sword is for you!
"Thank you for speaking up for me earlier!
The three of you can decide who wants it!
"Even though it's rusty, I'll polish it with my family's secret technique until it's like new!"
"Huh? You're giving it to us?"
Tanjiro was flustered.
Just then, Inosuke suddenly leaned in close, his handsome face startling Kotetsu.
"Hey, kid."
Inosuke pointed at him.
"Since you know polishing techniques…
how about becoming this young master's lackey?
"Temporary Lackey Number Four.
"When seaweed-head comes to his senses, you'll be Lackey Number Five.
"I understand seniority—first come, first served.
"You'll be in charge of polishing my fans and maintaining my twin blades.
"As for payment… I'll treat you to meals at the Eternal Paradise Cult.
"How about it?"
"..."
Kotetsu stared at this man—who looked like a celestial being but talked like someone slightly lacking common sense—
and was momentarily at a loss for words.
While they were chatting—
"Ah! The air here is so nice!"
A sweet voice, tinged with natural airheadedness, rang out.
A girl with long hair that faded from pink to green, a curvaceous figure, and a springy step came bouncing over.
The Love Hashira — Kanroji Mitsuri.
"Oh! It's those two boys who fought the Wind Hashira before!"
Mitsuri spotted Tanjiro—then her gaze instantly locked onto Inosuke.
His flashy haori and striking face were impossible to ignore.
"Wow! You look even prettier!"
She covered her flushed cheeks, heart pounding.
"You look like a finely crafted doll!
And those clothes… you look so rich!
"I've wanted to ask before—
are you some noble young master from a big family?"
Inosuke looked her over in turn.
But his focus was completely off.
"Hey, woman."
He pointed at her hair.
"Your hair's pretty cool.
Looks like sakura mochi."
"Huh? Sakura mochi?"
Mitsuri blinked, then happily spun around.
"Really? Everyone says it's strange!"
"Yeah."
Inosuke nodded, opening his fan.
"That kind of flashy color scheme suits this young master's taste."
"Since that's the case…"
He issued another invitation.
"Wanna be my lackey?
"Lackey Number Six.
"You seem strong enough. You can carry my luggage from now on.
"I'll treat you to meals at the Eternal Paradise Cult."
Pff—!
Zenitsu sprayed spit on the spot.
"BOSS!! That's a Hashira! That's the Love Hashira!
"And why Number Six?! Shouldn't there be a Number Five first?!
A Hashira can't rank below Kotetsu, right?!"
"So what if she's a Hashira?"
Inosuke scoffed.
"That seaweed-head's a Hashira too—didn't he almost get recruited to fan me?
"He's just stubborn."
Mitsuri wasn't angry at all. Instead, she twisted shyly, hands to her cheeks.
"A lackey…?
"That sounds kind of cool!
"And I get good food too?
"But I'm still looking for a husband…
"Though, if it's such a pretty young master…"
Tanjiro hurriedly dragged Inosuke away.
"Kanroji-san! He's joking!
"Please don't take it seriously! Your hair really is beautiful!
We'll take our leave now!"
Watching the three boys bicker as they left, Mitsuri clasped her hands to her face, eyes sparkling.
"What lively young men…"
Night fell — Swordsmith Village guest quarters
"I'm sleeping in the middle!"
"No! The middle's the boss's spot!"
"Then I'll sleep on the left! I want to be closer to Nezuko!"
The three boys wrestled on the tatami mats until Inosuke finally ended it by kicking Zenitsu into the corner.
Inosuke lay in the center, hands folded behind his head, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling.
The food here wasn't as special as Kotoha's.
The bedding wasn't as soft as at the Eternal Paradise Cult.
But he didn't dislike this feeling.
Noisy. Crowded. Yet reassuring.
"Hey, Inosuke,"
Tanjiro whispered.
"Can your new swords really be made?"
"Obviously."
Inosuke rolled over.
"That masked weirdo's crazy, but his skills are the real deal.
"When my twin blades are finished, I'll take you guys to slay even bigger demons."
"Hehe… slay demons… protect Nezuko…"
Zenitsu mumbled in his sleep, drooling as he turned over.
Outside, insects chirped in chorus.
Everything seemed peaceful.
...
At the same time
Thirty li outside the Swordsmith Village, deep in the mountains—
Crack.
A massive tree thick enough for two people to hug was snapped effortlessly by a hand covered in black bone armor.
"Haah…"
Sasaki.
Acting Upper Rank Five.
His body had swollen to over three meters tall. His human face was completely gone, replaced by a demonic visage with a single vertical eye and a mouth full of fangs.
Within that lone eye, the mark Upper Rank — Five glowed with an eerie blood-red light.
"So hungry… still so hungry…
"Divine child…"
Sasaki lifted his head, staring toward the mist-shrouded valley in the distance.
Muzan's blood had granted him terrifying sensory abilities.
He smelled it.
Beyond layers of wisteria barriers lay a scent he both loathed and craved.
"Found you…"
Sasaki split his mouth wide in a grin.
"Hashibira… Inosuke…"
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