"Anyway… anyway, it just feels disgusting! I hate it!"
Tanjiro's voice rose as the frustration boiled over.
"Empathy! You're an adult, aren't you? Don't you know what empathy is? You nearly scared that kid half to death!"
"That's too cruel!"
The Mist Hashira went momentarily blank, like he genuinely didn't understand what he was hearing.
"Cruel?" he repeated flatly. "This is cruel?"
Tanjiro nodded hard. "Yes! I mean… what you said isn't wrong. It's not. But…"
"But forging swords is important too! They don't fight like we do, they don't have swordsmanship, but without the blades they make, we can't do anything either!"
"Swordsmiths are fighting too, just on a different battlefield. How can you rank people as higher or lower like that?"
"You're really… really going too far!"
Muichiro Tokito listened to Tanjiro's long speech without changing expression. When Tanjiro finally stopped for breath, Muichiro answered with a single impatient line.
"I don't have time for this."
He turned and walked away.
He looked like someone who didn't care about anything, but in truth, a quiet irritation had already lit in his chest.
He glanced once at Vincent Fox, the man who had stopped him earlier, then shifted direction and vanished in an instant.
A beat later, the village boy suddenly patted his waist.
"My key… it's gone!"
His eyes went wide, then he exploded.
"That brat with the dead eyes took it! That brat who ignored me!"
Vincent almost wanted to point it out.
Muichiro looked older than the kid by far, yet this child, who couldn't be more than ten, was calling him a brat.
Still, after being protected by them, the boy's hostility toward Tanjiro and Vincent had faded.
"Hurry!" he shouted, already sprinting. "We have to stop him before he destroys the doll!"
He charged ahead, and Tanjiro and Vincent followed.
Turn after turn, winding through the trees.
Finally, they reached deeper forest.
Muichiro was already there, facing a mechanical doll with six arms.
The doll's face was cracked and broken, its body scarred, but it stood straight, imposing even in ruin.
"So… Yoriichi Type Zero really is damaged this badly," the village boy murmured, staring at the shattered face. He couldn't tell whether time had done it, or Muichiro had.
Suddenly, the boy darted off.
"Don't run!" Tanjiro chased after him. "It's dangerous!"
He turned twice, then realized the child had somehow climbed a tree.
"So fast…" Tanjiro muttered, then leapt up after him.
Vincent stayed behind.
He watched Muichiro engage Yoriichi Type Zero.
Six arms, inhuman speed, relentless pressure.
And yet the Mist Hashira didn't fall back at all.
His blade flashed.
Bang!
The doll's armor split cleanly under the strike.
Up in the tree, Tanjiro finally caught up to the boy, landing on a branch across from him.
"Don't give up," Tanjiro said earnestly. "If there's anything I can do, tell me!"
"You still have a future. Even if it's for the you ten years from now, twenty years from now, you should keep trying!"
"Just because you can't do something right now doesn't mean you'll never be able to!"
The boy stayed silent for a long moment. Then he slowly took off his mask and wiped his tears.
"I won't… I won't pretend," he whispered. "I know I'm useless. Everything ends with me…"
"I don't have the talent to build dolls. And I definitely don't have sword skill."
"I can't repair this doll at all. And my dad is gone, and he had no brothers. When I die, this craft will disappear…"
Tanjiro looked at the sobbing child, then calmly raised a hand and flicked him in the forehead.
Pop.
"Ow!" The boy yelped, instantly stopping his crying.
Tanjiro softened his voice. "Don't talk about yourself like that. Don't give up on yourself…"
"Even if you can't do it, it can still be passed on, right?"
"This is your legacy. You can't just throw it away. You'll have children someday, grandchildren. Maybe one of them will be talented."
Tanjiro's gaze steadied, and his words grew heavier, more personal.
"I know Kibutsuji Muzan is terrifying. For hundreds of years, nobody's beaten him. But I still want to defeat him."
"Because only then can I save my sister… who became a demon."
He told the boy about his own past, voice sincere, unguarded.
After a long silence, Tanjiro suddenly grabbed the boy's hand, gripping tight.
"Let's work hard together!"
The boy didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm.
"I don't want the doll to break either… so I'll make the choice to see it through to the end."
They jumped down from the tree.
Tanjiro called him warmly, as if they'd been friends for years.
"Kotetsu, then let's go!"
Right then, a figure drifted past like mist.
Muichiro Tokito.
Tanjiro and Kotetsu's hearts sank.
"Is it over?" they asked at the same time.
Muichiro turned back and nodded. "Yes. It improved a lot."
Then his eyes shifted, as if he only just noticed the boy.
"Oh, right… who are you?"
In his hand was a second blade, still carrying a severed arm from Yoriichi Type Zero.
"My sword broke," Muichiro said simply. "So I used this."
Kotetsu saw that and bolted, panic written across his face.
Muichiro tossed his original sword into Tanjiro's arms without even looking.
"Throw that away for me."
Then he turned and left.
Tanjiro stared at his back, then sniffed lightly.
"He doesn't smell malicious. So he didn't do it on purpose…"
He hesitated, then glanced at the crow perched on Muichiro's shoulder, glaring at him like it wanted to peck his eyes out.
"…But that crow's malice is intense."
Tanjiro turned and headed deeper into the forest.
They found Kotetsu.
He stood frozen, staring at something ahead.
Following his gaze, Tanjiro saw Yoriichi Type Zero lying on the ground in pieces, battered and broken.
"Don't worry," Vincent said, offering a rare bit of comfort. "It shouldn't be beyond repair yet."
He had watched the fight. One arm had been cut off, but that was it. The true core hadn't been reached.
"Let's lift it up and see if it can still move," Tanjiro said, stepping forward to help the doll.
Click. Clack. Click.
A sudden grinding of gears echoed through the clearing.
Then, in the stunned silence that followed, the doll… stood up.
"It's moving!" Tanjiro cried, joy bursting out of him. "That's great! That's great!"
Kotetsu stared at the doll, quiet, as if he'd just made a decision that weighed more than his own life.
Then he spoke, low and steady.
"Tanjiro… you should train with it."
"Please. You have to become stronger than that brat who acts like nothing matters."
His voice sharpened with urgency, pushing Tanjiro forward.
"Go now. I don't know how long the doll can last, but right now it seems fine."
Then Kotetsu looked at Vincent.
"And Mr. Vincent Fox… will you train too?"
Vincent smiled and waved a hand. "I'm good."
Tanjiro laughed and immediately answered for him, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
"Mr. Vincent Fox is really strong. Even without a sword, he's amazing. The Upper Rank demon got punched into pieces by him, like this! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
And just like that, Tanjiro launched into Vincent's glorious legend again…
----------------------------------------------------
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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