[I will ask one final time. Is the Host certain? You wish to expend all remaining lifespan on a single attribute?]
The System's voice echoed in his mind, cold and mechanical.
"Stop wasting my time! Do it!" Ryousuke snarled internally.
[All 156 days of lifespan allocated to Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash.]
[Thunderclap and Flash has reached Mastery. Skill Unlocked: Triple Fold.]
[Warning: Host lifespan is critically low. Failure to slay a high-value demon within 24 hours will result in immediate cardiac arrest.]
The notification had barely faded when a torrent of raw, primordial energy detonated in Ryousuke's parched organs. It wasn't warmth—it was a forest fire. It was the sensation of his soul being squeezed for its last drop of oil.
Veins bulged across Ryousuke's skin like gnarled roots. Every pore erupted with violent, visible arcs of golden electricity.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash..." Ryousuke's voice was a non-human growl. "...Triple Fold!"
The ground beneath him vanished in a spectacular explosion of dirt and stone. He broke the sound barrier in a heartbeat, leaving a solid trail of golden light behind him as he tore toward the Hand Demon's massive limbs.
Slash!
Dozens of severed arms spiraled into the air. The Hand Demon's eyes widened in genuine terror. "Too fast!"
Shota stared, frozen, as a streak of light bounced off the environment. Ryousuke pivoted mid-air, his second strike even faster, aiming straight for the monster's thick, armored neck.
He's going to do it! Shota thought, his heart leaping. He's actually going to take the head!
Clang!
A sickening snap echoed through the clearing. Ryousuke's Nichirin Sword—overused and battered from six days of relentless hunting—shattered against the demon's hide.
Time seemed to freeze. Ryousuke stared at the broken hilt in his hand. Damn it... I forgot. This is how Sabito died.
"Heheheh..." The Hand Demon let out a jagged cackle. A dozen tentacles surged forward to crush the defenseless boy.
But Ryousuke was still moving. The momentum of the Triple Fold hadn't dissipated.
"Ryousuke! Catch!" Shota screamed, hurling his own bronze-hilted sword through the air.
Ryousuke's eyes tracked the spinning blade. In a blur of motion, he snatched the hilt out of the air mid-dash. The final fold of the technique ignited.
Zzt—BOOM!
The lightning condensed into a single, blinding line. The blade carved through the wall of arms like a hot wire through wax. The Hand Demon's head spun away from its body, thudding heavily into the dirt.
Ryousuke hit the ground on one knee. His body felt hollow, as if every muscle had been vacuumed out of his skin. The recoil of the Triple Fold was a nightmare.
[Slayer Success: Mid-tier Demon 'Hand Demon' slain. Lifespan +1 Year.]
[Current Lifespan: 1 Year.]
One year. Not bad. It was his first real "seed capital" in this world.
"Ryousuke!" Shota scrambled over, clutching his bloodied side. He grabbed Ryousuke's shoulder, his hands shaking. "Are you... are you alive?"
"Just empty," Ryousuke managed a weak grin, collapsing onto his back. "I'm not dying yet."
Shota was an annoying brat who loved to compete, but when the blades were out, he had Ryousuke's back. That was enough.
Behind them, the Hand Demon's head began to crumble. "I was decapitated... by a brat like that? Unforgivable... Urokodaki... I just wanted... I just wanted to hold my brother's hand..."
The monster's ramblings faded into the wind. Ryousuke didn't look back. Every demon had a tragic backstory; that didn't make their teeth any less sharp.
The dawn of the eighth day broke through the wisteria mist. The Kakushi—the cleanup crew of the Corps—were stunned. Usually, only a handful of battered survivors emerged.
This year, nearly twenty young swordsmen walked out.
A single name was whispered among the survivors: Yasui Ryousuke. The "Black Lightning" who had spent six days straight hunting every demon in the forest until the mountain was nearly empty.
At the shrine, the crowd parted for Ryousuke, Shota, and the dazed Akira Moriyama. Akira looked like he'd won the lottery—he'd spent most of the fight unconscious and woke up as an official Demon Slayer.
After selecting their ores and receiving their Kasugaigaras—Ryousuke's was a rare, tiny hummingbird with sapphire feathers and a needle-like beak—they prepared to leave.
"Yasui Ryousuke, Kiritani Shota, Moriyama Akira. Please wait," a guide interrupted. "The Master requests an audience."
"The Master?!" Shota and Akira gasped. To a new recruit, meeting the legendary leader of the Corps was the highest honor imaginable.
Ryousuke remained calm, nodding to the guide. "Lead the way."
They were led through a series of wisteria trellises to a quiet, traditional estate. Sitting on the porch was Kagaya Ubuyashiki.
He was young—roughly their age—with pale skin and hauntingly beautiful eyes. Despite his youth, he carried a profound, heavy stillness that commanded immediate respect.
"Welcome home, brave swordsmen," Kagaya said softly. "It brings me great peace to see you safe."
Shota and Akira fell into deep, trembling bows. "Master!"
Ryousuke offered a respectful nod. He knew the history—the Ubuyashiki curse, the shortened lifespans, the endless war against Muzan. A year ago, this thirteen-year-old had married Amane to continue the bloodline. He was already a father to twins.
The guy is a machine, Ryousuke thought. Doing his part for the birth rate while running a secret army.
Kagaya looked at them, his voice gentle. "I must apologize. Due to an oversight in our surveillance, a demon far exceeding the selection's difficulty remained on the mountain. Had you not fought so valiantly, the loss of life would have been catastrophic."
He bowed his head slightly. "As the Master, the responsibility is mine. I offer my deepest apologies to you and all the candidates."
Akira was moved to tears, stammering about how it was an honor to serve. Shota's eyes glowed with new purpose.
Ryousuke merely yawned internally. He'd heard enough corporate "apologies" in his previous life to last a lifetime.
"Yasui-san," Kagaya said, a faint smile touching his lips. "You are an interesting soul."
Ryousuke shrugged. "I just want to live. That's all."
You too, right? For yourself, and for the family you're trying to keep alive.
"I see," Kagaya nodded. "To live... that is the fundamental strength that allows us to swing our blades through the long night. May that strength guide you, Yasui-san, as you carve your own path forward."