"So Mr. Vincent Fox is really that strong!" Kotetsu's eyes sparkled as he stared at Vincent, starry eyed with pure admiration. Then he spun back to Tanjiro, suddenly serious.
"But that's Mr. Vincent Fox, not you, Tanjiro!"
Kotetsu jabbed a finger at Tanjiro like a tiny commander issuing a decree.
"Tanjiro, you have to get stronger. Then you have to go tell that brat with the dead face…"
He sucked in a breath, then started unloading the entire insult arsenal he'd clearly been saving up.
"Is that all you've got, trash? If you're that weak, stop running your mouth! And what's with that long hair? It hangs like kelp and you still won't cut it! Is it so it can block attacks in a fight? Do you have any idea you look like a sad plate of cold seaweed salad…"
"Kotetsu, Kotetsu!" Tanjiro panicked and waved his hands. "I can't say something that mean!"
Then his eyes hardened.
"But… I am going to get stronger!"
"Then start training already." Kotetsu muttered, still fuming. "That brat probably doesn't even know…"
As he spoke, he stepped forward and pulled a small box out from the back of Yoriichi Type Zero's neck.
"This is the doll's special feature. It can adjust its movements based on the trainee and rebuild the pattern to match your habits."
He looked downright smug.
"Even if you tortured me, I wouldn't tell him this. That brat wasted his time."
Kotetsu handed the box to Tanjiro.
After a quick set of modifications, the doll's performance shifted, subtly tuned to Tanjiro.
"Alright," Kotetsu said. "Go try it, Tanjiro."
Tanjiro nodded and gripped the sword Muichiro had tossed him. He stepped in to meet the doll.
Bang!
Yoriichi Type Zero rotated and smashed him away with a single strike.
Tanjiro tumbled across the ground, eyes spinning.
"This doll is way too strong! I'm going to die!"
"Six arms is impossible!"
Kotetsu yanked him up by the collar and corrected him with a scowl.
"It's five arms, idiot! That brat already cut one off. The doll's performance is already worse!"
"Even so, if you're dying at this level, you're trash, so stop whining and get up!"
Then Kotetsu launched into analysis like he'd been born for it.
"Tanjiro, you keep fighting with your own habits. A swordsman is supposed to watch the opponent first, then attack. Do you understand?"
"And the bigger problem is your foundation. It's a complete disaster. Painful to look at!"
"I honestly don't know how you've lived this long. With your skill, you barely qualify to stay in the Demon Slayer Corps."
"I'm going to correct every weakness you have. And until you finish the training, you don't eat."
Tanjiro swallowed hard.
"Yes…"
Only then did he realize something.
Kotetsu wasn't useless at all.
He was exceptional.
His analytical talent was terrifying, almost instinctive. It was just that after analyzing everything, he'd concluded he could never match a Hashira, and that Yoriichi Type Zero couldn't be repaired, so he'd collapsed into despair.
Kotetsu made a few more adjustments, then waved a hand.
"Go again."
"Okay."
Tanjiro charged in, confidence high.
This time he didn't even get to draw his blade before a staff slammed him away like he was nothing.
Hopeless.
Kotetsu's face twisted with disgust.
"You're too slow. If the weapon wasn't a staff, you'd already be dead."
Tanjiro groaned from the ground.
"A staff can kill people too, you know…"
Kotetsu crossed his arms. "No food today."
And he meant it.
Kotetsu really didn't feed Tanjiro.
Five days straight.
People said three days without water was the human limit.
If it hadn't rained, Tanjiro wouldn't have died to demons.
He would've died to Kotetsu.
Half delirious, Tanjiro dreamed he was walking across the Sanzu River, heading toward the afterlife with a strangely peaceful mood.
Then he promptly fell straight off the bridge because he was too hungry.
Meanwhile, Vincent strolled around the village at his own pace and found someone willing to forge him a new Nichirin Blade.
It wasn't anything high end, but his fists were his real killing weapon anyway. A sword was just convenient.
Deep in the forest, Tanjiro's training continued.
Days of brutal practice slowly reshaped his fundamentals.
Not dramatically, his body was still recovering, but it was happening.
At least now he could survive two exchanges with Yoriichi Type Zero.
Finally, facing the doll now armed with swords again, Tanjiro leapt high.
Then his nose caught something… strange.
"It's not the thread of an opening… it's different. It's special."
Tanjiro's gaze flickered across the doll's body, searching, tracking, locking on.
There.
Tanjiro swung.
His blade slammed into Yoriichi Type Zero's thigh.
Bang!
A sharp impact.
And then Tanjiro fell out of the air and hit the ground.
"Woooo!" Kotetsu was vibrating with excitement. "That was awesome!"
"Tanjiro finally landed a hit! Even if your strength is so pathetic the doll didn't even move, you get food today!"
The moment Tanjiro heard that, he burst into tears like he'd just been reborn.
"I want pickled plum rice balls!" he sobbed. "Ten of them! And I want premium gyokuro tea! A whole pot!"
Hearing the commotion echoing from the mountain, Vincent stretched lazily in the hot springs.
"Looks like success isn't far off," he murmured. "Which means those two are coming soon…"
He rose from the water and stepped out.
"I should go pick up my Nichirin Blade first."
After eating and drinking his fill, Tanjiro returned to training.
This time, he could last a long time under Yoriichi Type Zero's pressure.
He lunged, dodged a blade, and twisted midair.
That familiar smell slid into his nose again.
"This scent… it's the neck!"
Tanjiro reacted on instinct, swinging his Nichirin Blade down hard toward the doll's throat.
Then, right before contact, he hesitated.
If he chopped through in one breath…
The doll would break.
Kotetsu spotted the hesitation instantly and shouted, voice cracking with urgency.
"It's fine, Tanjiro, cut it!"
"You have to cut it! Even if it breaks, I can fix it!"
Hearing that promise, Tanjiro still wavered for a heartbeat… then gritted his teeth and swung.
Bang!
The blade struck the wooden neck with a thunderous, explosive sound.
Tanjiro slammed into the ground, and the borrowed Nichirin Blade snapped clean in two.
"Ah, I didn't brace properly… the blade broke!"
He scrambled up, face pale.
"I'm sorry, Kotetsu!"
"That doesn't matter," Kotetsu said, voice oddly strained.
As they spoke, a crisp crack echoed from the doll.
They turned.
Yoriichi Type Zero's neck had split.
Its head rolled across the ground.
And from the broken neck, something emerged.
A sword hilt.
Tanjiro's eyes went huge.
"Something came out! Kotetsu, something came out! What is that?"
"I… I don't know!" Kotetsu stammered, breath shaking. "But it has to be something incredible!"
They steadied themselves and looked again.
It was a blade.
"A sword… could it be…"
Tanjiro's voice trembled.
"A sword from three hundred years ago, from the Warring States era?"
Kotetsu's hands were shaking, his breathing ragged with excitement.
"What do we do… what do we do?! This is insane! This is insane!"
The two of them hovered over it like kids staring at a miracle, hearts pounding, the world narrowing to that single hilt revealed inside a broken wooden throat.
----------------------------------------------------
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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