Chapter 24: I'm not a good teacher; I never noticed…
The mountain road to the northern port town twisted and turned.
Lead-gray clouds piled in the sky, and a breeze carrying the forest's damp breath brushed the travelers' faces.
Ryuji walked beside Himejima Gyomei; neither spoke, yet the silence felt easy.
Ryuji could feel the steadiness of the Demon Slayer Corps' strongest—an aura as tranquil as the earth itself—just walking at his side brought calm.
'namu amida butsu…'
Gyomei stopped suddenly, pressed his palms together, and fresh tears slipped from his sightless eyes.
'The smell of blood…'
Ryuji halted as well; though he lacked Observation Haki, the Paper Arts training had sharpened his senses.
He sniffed and caught the faint metallic tang.
A violent thrashing burst from the trees ahead.
A figure staggered out—one arm severed at the shoulder, slowly regenerating, body riddled with ugly burn wounds, black blood seeping from every gash.
It was healing, yet still a wreck.
A demon.
A badly wounded demon fleeing for its life.
The instant it saw the two humans, its clouded eyes blazed with desperate greed, as if they were life-saving Spirit Medicine.
'Flesh… humans!!'
Its body was mending, but far too slowly. Ryuji raised a brow, half-amused—what, you counting on the King of the Pirates too?
Did it miss the two-metre giant beside me, or the flail hanging at his hip, bigger than my head?
And it still lunged?
Gyomei frowned and closed his hand around the chain of his nichirin blade.
'Brother Himejima, leave this one to me.'
Ryuji lifted a hand to stop him, speaking calmly: 'Every point counts; this fiend looks nasty—might earn serious military merit.'
Before the words faded he stepped forward to meet the charging demon.
'Seeking death!'
The demon's eyes flared fiercer at the lone challenger.
It would devour this reckless boy, regain its strength, then—then it would return.
'Eat you both and I'll heal! I'll go back and tear them all apart!'
The demon howled the thought within.
Ryuji's gaze fixed on its wounds.
The edges were charred, the holes round and ragged—no blade had made them.
More like… metal punched through at high speed, or flesh seared by sudden heat.
A gun?
The notion flickered and vanished.
As the demon's claws swept down, Ryuji didn't dodge; he simply raised his right fist, Armament Haki cloaking it in an instant.
'Stone Breathing, Third Form: Unarmed Capture!'
Bang!
A sickening crunch exploded.
The demon's skull shattered under the Haki-laden blow, black blood spraying skyward.
The headless corpse took two stumbling steps, knelt, and crumbled to ash.
Its last thought was stunned disbelief—how could a youth's fist be harder than steel?
[Ding! Host has slain an evil pirate; reward: +50 military merit points.]
Ryuji lowered his fist and flicked away non-existent dust.
'namu amida butsu… One strike, true death. As Tengen said, fists suit you better. I'm not a good teacher; I never noticed…'
Ryuji glanced at his knuckles. 'Not at all, Brother Himejima—your guidance helped.'
Gyomei wept more freely, walked to the ashes, and pressed his palms together. 'Poor Soul, may your next life know peace.'
He chanted sutras in a low voice.
Ryuji watched the prayer, brows knit.
'It spoke of revenge, and those wounds—ah, sorry, I forgot you can't see them.'
Gyomei shook his head. 'No matter. Whoever could wound a demon so badly must be another swordsman.'
Another swordsman, huh?
Ryuji glanced at the woods; several shadows slipped away.
'They're gone.'
Gyomei uncurled his fingers from the chain. 'Let's move on. Whoever slays demons is an ally.'
Ryuji nodded.
This world was more tangled than he'd thought.
They set off without delay.
When sunset painted the sky orange, the familiar port town came into view.
The salty breeze carried the clamour of the fish-market—livelier than the silence of death that had reigned before.
With Akinasa dead, the whole town seemed to breathe again.
Ryuji led Gyomei straight to the ramen shop.
'Bearded Uncle, two signature bowls!'
'Coming right—'
The cook looked up, beamed when he saw Ryuji. 'Well if it isn't the peddler lad! Been ages! Who's your big friend? Sit, sit!'
Ryuji grinned. 'You still remember me?'
'Are you kidding? A customer who eats like you? Hard to forget!'
While he worked the noodles he poured out his woes: 'Ever since that Paradise Troupe folded, my Nanako's been run off her feet! Only lead actress in town—rehearsal after rehearsal, she's lost weight. Breaks a father's heart.'
Complaints aside, pride sparkled in his eyes.
'Still…'
He lowered his voice, worry creeping in. 'Lads, be careful after dark.'
He glanced around.
'Town's not safe—there's a killer on the loose.'
'A killer?'
Ryuji's interest sharpened.
The uncle leaned closer. 'Targets young, pretty girls. Several have vanished—no bodies, nothing.'
'Most of the missing ones used to follow that Eternal Paradise Cult…'
He sighed. 'I worry for my girl—she's a looker. Sigh…'
Ryuji's heart sank.
Young beauty… ties to the Eternal Paradise Cult…
The three clues slammed a name into his mind.
Doma.
He's here.
Shock gave way to cold calculation: upper rank two, Doma—an immensely powerful demon.
On his side sat the Corps' strongest, the Stone Hashira, quietly slurping noodles.
Add Ryuji's foreknowledge of Doma's Blood Demon Art, Armament Haki for a surprise strike—then petition headquarters for Sound Hashira and Flame Hashira backup.
Four against one… they might actually bring Doma down!
The thought took root and would not let go.
The military merit points for slaying upper rank two would be enormous—enough to buy several coveted abilities.
Worst case, with Brother Himejima here, escape was assured.
Fortune favours the bold.
Let's do it.
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