"It's honestly impressive you both survived that battle," Mitsuri Kanroji said seriously, looking between them.
Then she turned to Vincent Fox, curiosity flashing in her eyes.
"Mr. Vincent Fox… I heard you're extremely strong. Strong enough to surpass the Sound Hashira. Is that true?"
She'd been staying here these past few days, so she'd naturally heard plenty from the Kasugai crows.
Vincent waved it off casually. "Just rumors. Besides, a few Upper Ranks aren't that big a deal."
His gaze sharpened.
"In the end, the enemy we'll face is a thousand, ten thousand times more terrifying than any Upper Rank."
In terms of sheer power, Kibutsuji Muzan was unquestionably the strongest being in this world after Yoriichi's death.
Of course, that was before factoring in Vincent.
If Vincent ever stopped holding back and cut loose completely, whether Muzan could even last until sunrise would be a question.
Honestly… Muzan had it rough.
Ahem. Anyway.
They sent Mitsuri off, and early the next morning, the two followed the hints she'd given them and made their way into a stretch of forest.
Tanjiro scanned the area carefully, refusing to miss even the smallest detail.
"What could this 'secret weapon' be?"
He grew more and more excited as he talked himself into it.
"Could it be a sword? Mr. Vincent Fox, do you think it's buried underground? Like a treasure hunt! That sounds so fun! Although… if it's buried, wouldn't it rust and get damaged? Ah, I'm getting pumped!"
His lips curled up, and it was obvious he was thrilled.
Vincent only smiled, saying nothing.
That "secret weapon" would later play a crucial role when the Demon Slayer Corps finally confronted Kibutsuji Muzan.
Tanjiro rubbed at his nose with a regretful sigh. "The hot spring smell is really strong here. Maybe because I'm not fully recovered yet. I can barely smell anything else."
If he could pick up other scents, he might've been able to track the "treasure" by smell alone.
Suddenly, voices drifted over from not far away.
"Someone's there?" Tanjiro perked up and looked in the direction of the sound.
"A kid… and another kid?"
"Are they arguing?" He listened, concern rising.
"If they're fighting, it feels wrong to eavesdrop…"
"But if we just leave them alone, that's worse, right?"
He turned his head toward Vincent.
"What should we do, Mr. Vincent Fox… Mr. Vincent Fox?"
Vincent was already walking forward.
"If eavesdropping feels rude, then we'll listen properly. Face-to-face."
Tanjiro hurried after him.
When they got closer, it really was an argument.
A black-haired boy was demanding something from one of the Swordsmith Village kids, his attitude sharp and uncompromising.
"Huh… that person…" Tanjiro stared at the black-haired boy, Mitsuri's earlier words flashing in his mind.
"That's the Mist Hashira, isn't it? He looks so young…"
Before they could even reach them, the Mist Hashira chopped his palm down on the back of the village kid's neck.
Thud.
The child couldn't withstand that strength and pitched forward.
"Stop!" Tanjiro shouted, alarmed, breaking into a sprint. "What are you doing?!"
He grabbed the Mist Hashira's arm, voice shaking with anger and panic.
"What are you doing? He's just a kid!"
"Let go."
"Who are you?"
The Mist Hashira clearly hadn't expected anyone to interfere. His eyes were distant, indifferent, as he looked at Tanjiro.
Tanjiro's chest tightened. "What are you trying to do to him?!"
He tried to force the Hashira's arm down, but no matter how hard he pushed, the Mist Hashira didn't move an inch.
That wrist looked thin, almost fragile, but the strength behind it was unbelievable.
So this is what a Hashira is?
He looked so young… yet his power was monstrous.
"You should let go."
With a flick of his arm, the Mist Hashira sent Tanjiro flying.
Then his left hand opened, palm slicing toward Tanjiro's face.
Tanjiro didn't even react in time, too shocked to dodge.
The Mist Hashira's eyes cooled further, a judgment forming without effort.
"So weak. This guy's in the Corps? Weak to the point it's ridiculous."
But the strike never landed.
Halfway through, the Mist Hashira's hand stopped.
He lifted his gaze slightly.
A man stood in front of Tanjiro.
Vincent Fox had stepped in, one hand casually catching the Mist Hashira's forearm.
"You're pretty violent for a kid," Vincent said, frowning, clearly displeased.
The Mist Hashira seemed not to hear the irritation in his voice at all. He only nodded faintly at Vincent.
"That level of strength is decent," he said as if commenting on the weather. "You're in the Demon Slayer Corps too? A Hashira's Tsuguko?"
He tried to yank his arm back.
Then his eyes narrowed.
No matter how hard he pulled, Vincent's grip didn't budge. It was like iron.
He couldn't pull free.
At the same time, the Mist Hashira felt his other hand lighten.
He turned his head.
Only a piece of clothing remained in his grasp.
The village child had already been lifted away by Vincent and placed into Tanjiro's arms.
"You alright?" Tanjiro asked quickly, steadying the kid in front of him.
"D-don't… don't touch me!" The child flinched, slapped Tanjiro's hand away, and stumbled backward.
"Stay back! I won't give the key to anyone! Even if you torture me, I won't give it up! Because… because 'that' is about to break!"
The Mist Hashira looked down at him with open disdain.
"Torture training, huh? Have you ever actually been trained to resist interrogation? Even adults break under that kind of pain."
He spoke with the calm cruelty of someone stating a fact.
"You're a pretty stupid kid."
Then, suddenly, the Mist Hashira's arm went soft in Vincent's grasp, almost boneless, slipping out as if his joints had turned to water.
Vincent's hand closed on air.
He glanced at his palm, mildly puzzled.
For a moment, it had felt like the boy's arm simply… stopped having structure.
Still, Vincent was glad it was a Hashira and not a demon.
Otherwise, that arm would've been torn off without discussion.
Freed, the Mist Hashira stepped up to the village child.
"What does it matter if it breaks?" he said coldly. "Make another."
"When people like you waste time whining, do you know how many die?"
"Getting in a Hashira's way has consequences. Understand that?"
Tanjiro and the village kid stared at him, stunned, speechless.
But the Mist Hashira kept going, contempt undisguised.
"A Hashira's time and your time aren't worth the same. Anyone with a brain should get that."
"Swordsmiths should forge. Fighting is our job. Without us, your existence has no meaning."
He extended a hand.
"Give it to me."
"The key."
"Figure out your place. You're not a child, are you? Stop acting like one."
Smack!
A crisp sound cracked through the air.
Tanjiro stepped in and slapped the Mist Hashira's hand away.
The Mist Hashira looked at his reddening palm, expression still empty, voice still flat.
"…What are you doing?"
----------------------------------------------------
The deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels. Don't wait read ahead and witness Vincent's rise before the world catches up!
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