A roar like thunder erupted as searing flames accompanied a blade cutting through the air!
Mue, the Dream Calamity, shrieked in terror and scrambled backward. As the fire dissipated, a tall man stood before Ryousuke. His gold-and-red hair billowed like a living bonfire, and his white-and-red haori snapped in the heat of his own fighting spirit.
Mue's hands throbbed with a burning sting from the mere proximity of that strike. This level of power... this aura...
"You... you're a Hashira?!"
Shinjuro Rengoku didn't even acknowledge the demon's existence. His eyes, bright and piercing, remained fixed on Ryousuke as he slammed a heavy hand onto the boy's shoulder.
"Young man!" Shinjuro's voice boomed like a temple bell. "I felt it! That pure, unadulterated intent to slay demons! Well done! That singular will is the sharpest blade a slayer can carry!"
The sheer volume and force of the man's voice made Ryousuke's head spin. The shock shattered the last remnants of the Blood Demon Art's trance. Ryousuke stumbled back, blinking his eyes clear as he looked at the man.
That resolute face... that iconic "owl" hairstyle...
Big Brother?!
Ryousuke almost shouted it before catching himself. No, wait. Kyojuro is still too young. This is his father—the current Flame Hashira, Shinjuro Rengoku!
Ryousuke's lip twitched. In the future, this man becomes a depressed alcoholic, but right now? In his prime, Shinjuro was a powerhouse of reliability.
Ryousuke shot a smug, Anya-style smirk at Mue and flashed him a middle finger.
Go ahead, pretty boy. I'm out of gas, but why don't you try your luck with this guy? He'll turn you into a barbeque.
Mue was livid. "So what if you're a Hashira! Under my Blood Demon Art, you'll all die screaming!"
Mue's fingers danced frantically, his voice hitting a high, discordant note. Thousands of crimson shells manifested in the air, vibrating like a swarm of angry hornets. With a violent sweep of his hands, he launched the blood-red cloud at Shinjuro.
Shinjuro didn't flinch. He stepped forward, the ground cracking under his leaden boots as heat exploded around him.
"Flame Breathing, Third Form: Blazing Universe!"
Whoosh!
A massive arc of flame erupted from his red Nichirin sword. The roaring sea of fire took the shape of a dragon, incinerating the shell swarm instantly. In the face of absolute power, gimmicks were useless. The air filled with the smell of scorched sea salt.
"NO—!" Mue wailed as his pride and joy was reduced to soot.
Escape! I have to escape! A Hashira is out of my league! If I can just reach Lord Douma... if I can just find him, I'll live!
Mue turned to vanish into the shadows, but Shinjuro's roar followed him.
"Demon! Do not flee! Repent for your sins in the karmic flames!"
Ryousuke's heart skipped a beat. Oh crap! He's going to one-shot him! I need that kill! I need the bounty! I refuse to be a carry-on passenger!
"Flame Breathing, Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!"
A massive tiger made of pure, white-hot fire manifested from Shinjuro's blade, leaping toward the fleeing demon with a roar that shook the mansion.
"I'll help you!" Ryousuke yelled, pushing his legs into a desperate Thunderclap and Flash.
Hang in there, you flamboyant freak! Don't you dare die before I get a piece of you!
Mue could do nothing. His eyes reflected the gaping maw of the flame tiger and a streak of yellow lightning.
BOOM!
The pillar of fire lit up the sky like noon. Ryousuke dove into the inferno, ignoring the singed hair and scorched uniform, and took Mue's head a split second before the body turned to ash.
Ryousuke tumbled out of the fire, soot-covered and gasping, but he let out a long sigh of relief.
Stupid demon. Look how much I care about you—I literally jumped into a furnace just to kill you personally. I'm practically a saint.
As Mue dissolved, his memories flickered before Ryousuke's eyes. He had been a wealthy pearl merchant's son, a sociopath who murdered a girl's family because she rejected him. He was eventually found by Douma (the Upper Moon Two) and turned into a demon.
Ptu! Ryousuke spat on the vanishing remains. Another piece of human garbage. And a Douma fanboy, too? Dying twice wouldn't have been enough for you.
[Slayer of High-Tier Demon 'Mue'. Lifespan +5 Years. Current Lifespan: 8 Years, 360 Days.]
Almost nine years! Woohoo! Ryousuke mentally cheered. Kill-stealing is the way to go!
The rescued woman, finally waking from her trance, saw the charred courtyard and the two swordsmen. She shrieked in terror and bolted out the gate without a single word of thanks. Ryousuke didn't mind; he was used to the thankless nature of the job.
"HA HA HA HA!"
A booming laugh rang out. Shinjuro walked over and clapped Ryousuke on the shoulder again, nearly knocking him into the dirt.
"Splendid work, lad! To face a mind-warping Blood Demon Art and not lose your way—I admire that spirit! It burns like pure charcoal!"
He leaned in, his golden eyes sparkling with intensity. "Young man! How would you like to become my Tsuguko?"
Ryousuke's lip twitched. This exact line. This family really has a genetic obsession with recruiting apprentices, don't they?
Ryousuke waved a hand. "Sorry. I decline."
"Eh?" Shinjuro was stunned. Most slayers would give an arm to be a Hashira's successor.
Ryousuke sighed. Being a Tsuguko had perks, but he knew he couldn't learn Flame Breathing naturally. He was a Thunder specialist. Spreading himself thin would be suicide.
"Flame Hashira-sama, I plan to become a Hashira on my own strength. Save that spot for someone who actually uses fire."
"HA HA HA HA! You really are an interesting one! Humble yet ambitious! You're much better than my kid at home!"
Shinjuro's mind went off on a tangent, assuming Ryousuke was a selfless, noble warrior who didn't want to take up resources. He looked at Ryousuke with a gaze that was increasingly "hot."
Ryousuke, a modern man with a healthy sense of boundaries, felt a chill. Wait... why are you looking at me like that? You have a wife and two kids, man! This isn't that kind of manga!
Shinjuro stepped closer, throwing an arm around Ryousuke's neck. "Lad! I really like you!"
O_0?
Ryousuke ducked under the arm, offered a quick bow, and activated his breathing. "Flame Hashira-sama! I... uh... have private business! Goodbye!"
ZAP!
He vanished in a trail of sparks. Shinjuro scratched his head, looking disappointed. "That boy... I just wanted to invite him over for dinner."