Zing—!
The whistle of the blade shrieked, its edge already biting deep! Ryousuke gave the demon zero time to react or regenerate!
The first flash of light split its skull in two. The second was a whirlwind of steel, a meat-grinder of lightning-fast strikes zig-zagging through the cramped shop.
Meat-walls, eyeballs, tentacles, floorboards, the counter... everything within sight! Whether it was the demon's flesh-avatar or the original structure of the shop, it all shattered and exploded under the violent assault.
Squelch! Rip! CRASH—!!!
A chaotic symphony of destruction filled the room.
"Damn you! Damn you! You're just a Slayer—you aren't even a Hashira! How can you be this strong?!" The demon wailed in agony, cursing with its fading breath.
Moriyama was utterly dazed. Brother... I knew you were tough, but I didn't know you were THIS much of a monster!
"I'm not interested in a villain's final monologue! DIE!!!"
As Ryousuke twisted his body mid-air, the final strike of the Triple Fold roared toward its target.
"TAKE THIS!"
SHINK!
The last massive clump of flesh disintegrated under the surging electricity. The demon let out one final, pitiful shriek before crumbling into ash.
As the "revolving lantern" of the demon's memories began to flicker, Ryousuke didn't even bother looking. He sheathed his sword and walked toward Moriyama.
"You okay?"
"I... I'm fine." Moriyama shook his head numbly.
Ryousuke let out a long breath. Compared to Mue, who focused on mental attacks, this demon—Chimi—was a physical nightmare. He had only won because of the enclosed space and the sheer explosive speed of Thunder Breathing.
[Notice: Slayed End-Phase Demon "Chimi". Gained 5 years of lifespan. Current remaining lifespan: 13 years, 345 days.]
Enough! Ten years! I finally have enough! Ryousuke shouted internally with excitement.
[System: Sufficient lifespan detected. Spend 10 years of lifespan to heal "Failing Liver"?]
"Confirm!" Ryousuke gritted his teeth.
[System: 10 years deducted. Remaining lifespan: 3 years, 345 days. Healing failing liver... Hehe~]
That damn electronic voice still sounded annoyingly cheerful.
Hehe your grandfather... Ryousuke cursed the system back. Ten years! Ten whole years of his life, earned through the blood and sweat of hunting countless "small fry" demons, gone in a blink. This system was a black-hearted scammer.
Wrrr—!
Suddenly, a warm current erupted within him. It was like a spring thaw, carrying a monumental surge of life force that washed through his limbs and scoured every exhausted meridian.
"Ugh!" Ryousuke grunted, his spine snapping straight.
The warmth eventually gathered and rooted itself under his right ribs. That was the spot where a dull, aching rot had lived for so long.
And then... the heaviness vanished.
It was as if Ryousuke had dropped a set of lead chains he'd been carrying for a lifetime. His body felt light—lighter than it had ever been. Every breath was smooth, effortless, and deep. Power surged through his veins, thrumming with a vitality he hadn't felt since before his original death.
He squeezed his fist, his knuckles popping with a crisp crack.
Power. Absolute, overflowing power. This feels... pretty damn good.
"Ry... Ryousuke-san?" Moriyama called out, his voice a mix of lingering fear and accusation. "You... you kicked me in there on purpose, didn't you?"
"Obviously," Ryousuke raised an eyebrow, his tone effortlessly annoying. "Unless you wanted this thing to turn the whole street into an all-you-can-eat buffet?"
"Someone had to be the bait. Let him think he caught a fish, then I strike from the blind spot. Look at the results—it worked perfectly." Ryousuke shrugged.
Moriyama looked at the absolute wreckage of the shop and choked on his words. "But... but you almost got me killed! That thing nearly squeezed me into paste! I thought you were actually..."
"Enough talk," Ryousuke interrupted the dramatic lament. "You weren't going to die. Let's find a place to clean up. This smell is going to ruin my brand-new liver."
Moriyama was speechless at Ryousuke's audacity. He could only follow behind, head slumped in defeat.
The lights of Yamagata Prefecture flickered in the night. They found a small, late-night izakaya where the owner, trembling slightly at their blood-stained appearance, provided hot water and towels.
Ryousuke specifically ordered a bottle of the cheapest, roughest cloudy sake.
When the ceramic bowl was placed before him, Ryousuke stared at the swirling liquid, feeling a moment of daze. In his past life, he was just a nameless "corporate slave." When life got hard—which was often—he'd buy a few cans of cheap beer and numb his nerves in the glow of a computer screen.
In this world, from the moment he opened his eyes, the shadow of death was his constant companion. This broken body made even breathing feel like decay. Alcohol? That was a death sentence.
But now...
Ryousuke lifted the bowl and took a massive gulp.
"Cough! Cough-cough!"
The harsh, stinging liquid scorched his throat. Taisho-era booze was unrefined and brutal compared to modern standards.
"Pffft!" Moriyama couldn't help but laugh. "Ryousuke-san, is this your first time drinking?"
Ryousuke ignored him and took another swig. Moriyama poured himself a bowl as well, trying to steady his nerves. After a few rounds, the alcohol turned Moriyama's fear into a desperate need to talk.
"Ryousuke-san, you have no idea!" He slammed the table, his tongue tripping over his words. "When those tentacles wrapped around me... the strength was terrifying! I thought, 'This is it, I'm done. I haven't even gotten a wife yet! I haven't taken care of Master in his old age!' I really thought you sold me out! My heart was like ice!"
Ryousuke didn't interrupt, just sipped his sake with a small smile. Moriyama hiccuped, his eyes turning red and watery.
"But then... you burst in! That lightning... shua-shua-shua! Like cutting vegetables! I knew it! I knew you wouldn't leave me! Ryousuke-san! You'd put your life on the line to protect me! I knew it! Sniff..."
He got more emotional as he spoke, eventually wiping away tears. The alcohol had amplified his gratitude, turning Ryousuke's "you won't die" logic into a sacred vow of brotherhood.
Ryousuke paused, bowl halfway to his lips, watching the guy who was now a blubbering mess of "brotherly love." He wanted to say: You're overthinking it. Your Luck Buff is just so broken that even the Grim Reaper would have a stroke trying to kill you.
But seeing Moriyama's earnest, drunken face, Ryousuke swallowed the words. Forget it. Explaining it is too much work.
In Moriyama's eyes, the silence was a quiet, stoic confirmation.
"Ryousuke-san! From now on, you're my real brother! If you need me to walk through fire or a sea of blades, if Moriyama Akira even blinks an eye, I'm not a man!"