Tatsuya realized the rifle's effectiveness was limited. Without hesitation, he slung the gun behind his back and drew his hunting knife, diving into a side roll.
Shred! The demon's claws grazed his back. Despite the rifle on his back acting as a partial shield, the thick cotton coat was torn open, leaving behind several burning, bloody gashes.
"Too close!" Cold sweat poured down Tatsuya's face. "This thing is a hell of a lot more troublesome than a bear!"
He didn't dare fight it head-on. Using the trees as cover, he kept moving, dodging and weaving as he led the demon toward the location of his second trap.
"Come on! You monster! Come and get me!" Tatsuya shouted provocatively as he ran.
"Hehe... run... keep running... it makes the meat chewier..." The demon laughed hysterically, chasing him relentlessly. Just as it stepped onto a patch of seemingly flat snow—
CRACK!
The second trap snapped shut, biting hard into its other ankle!
"ROAAR—!!!" The demon let out a deafening howl, its body staggering violently from the pain and the sudden restraint. Its ankle began to heal, but because it had been sustaining injuries continuously since the fight began, its aura had visibly weakened.
In the heat of the struggle, Tatsuya's keen eyes caught this detail. "I knew it! Regenerating wounds drains its stamina!"
Now's the chance!
A cold light flashed in Tatsuya's eyes. He lunged out from behind a tree—not to flee, but to charge. His target was the trapped demon. He had already retrieved the heavy iron chain; now, with his arms swinging in a wide arc, he whipped the chain toward the demon like a lash!
Bind it!
Clang-lang-lang! The chain wrapped accurately around the demon's neck and one of its arms!
"GET OVER HERE!" Tatsuya roared, throwing his entire body weight into a massive pull!
However, he had underestimated the demon's strength. Even with its feet mangled and its stamina drained, the creature's raw power far exceeded that of a normal human. With a violent jerk, it nearly yanked Tatsuya off his feet. Its free arm, the one not fully bound by the chain, lunged toward Tatsuya's chest with a piercing whistle.
"I'll eat you!" The demon's fanged maw was inches away!
It was too fast. Tatsuya could barely react. The foul-smelling claws and fangs expanded rapidly in his pupils.
In that split second, primal survival instinct saved him. He released the chain and threw himself backward. Simultaneously, with his right hand still gripping the hunting knife, he thrust upward with everything he had.
Puchi!
The knife drove straight through the demon's palm, skewering it. But the demon didn't care. Its chained arm flexed with explosive force, snapping the tension of the iron links as it clawed at Tatsuya's face!
They were so close that Tatsuya could smell the nauseating rot on its breath.
The last bullet! I have to use it now!
In this moment of extreme peril, Tatsuya's mind worked like a lightning bolt. He let go of the knife still stuck in the demon's hand and, using his backward momentum, drew the rifle he had reloaded while running. At point-blank range, he jammed the barrel almost directly against the demon's forehead.
The demon's claws had already touched his brow, slicing the skin and letting blood trickle down.
"Go to hell, you freak!!"
BOOM!!!
The second gunshot sounded like the knell of a reaper!
The lead slug entered the demon's skull at zero range. The kinetic energy exploded instantly. The demon's screeching stopped abruptly as the back of its head burst open, spraying gore everywhere.
Its massive frame convulsed and crashed to the ground. Though its limbs twitched subconsciously, it had clearly lost consciousness... or rather, it had "died" temporarily. However, the mangled skull was already beginning to stitch itself back together at a visible, albeit slow, pace.
Tatsuya collapsed onto the snow, gasping for air. The blood from his forehead mingled with the black blood of the demon, blurring his vision. But he didn't dare rest. He forced himself to crawl up.
"I can't let it recover!" He stared in horror at the writhing flesh on the demon's head.
He gathered the remaining iron chain and, ignoring the sticky filth on the demon, used the last of his strength to bind the creature firmly to a thick pine tree. Round after round, he lashed it tight, specifically focusing on the neck and torso. He also took the opportunity to retrieve his hunting knife from the demon's hand.
Sure enough, after a short while, the demon's head had mostly recovered. It snapped its eyes open and let out a furious, hungry roar: "Meat... I want to eat..." It began to struggle manically. The chain groaned under the tension, sounding as if it might snap at any moment.
"Damn it! This chain won't hold long!" Tatsuya's heart tightened. He checked his resources: his rifle was now useless junk. He only had his knife.
"If I can't kill you, I'll wear you down!" Tatsuya's gaze turned fierce. He remembered how the demon's stamina dropped when it regenerated.
Whenever the demon struggled its hardest, Tatsuya would charge in and hack at its arms or legs with his knife—avoiding fatal spots to ensure it had to keep healing. The demon would howl in pain, its regenerative instinct would kick in, and its struggling strength would weaken slightly with every wound healed.
"It's working!" Tatsuya's spirit surged.
Thus, in that freezing pine forest, a bizarre scene unfolded: a boy, wielding a hunting knife, locked in a brutal war of attrition with a blue-skinned demon chained to a tree. The boy hacked away tirelessly, draining the demon's energy and delaying its escape.
Hack, heal, struggle, hack again... the cycle repeated.
Tatsuya's arms were numb with fatigue, and his own wounds throbbed, but he didn't stop. His world had narrowed down to this monster and the sky above, which was slowly turning from deep black to a dark, inky blue.
After an eternity, as a faint sliver of light appeared on the eastern horizon, the demon seemed to sense a profound terror. Its struggles became frantic. The chain's groans reached a breaking point. "The sun...! Go away...!"
"It hates the sun?" Tatsuya thought. He stopped attacking, gripped his knife, and stared intently at the demon and the horizon.
The first ray of golden sunlight pierced the darkness like a sword, spilling across the land. As that weak but life-giving light touched the demon tied to the tree—
Sssssss!
Like red-hot iron hitting ice, thick gray smoke erupted from the demon's body!
"AAARRRGGHH—!!! The sun... NOOO—!!!" It let out a scream of ultimate agony and terror. Under the sun's touch, its body rapidly charred and disintegrated into ash.
Tatsuya held his breath, watching the nightmare twist and vanish into nothingness. All that remained were deep claw marks on the tree, a broken chain, and a faint scent of burning in the air.
It was over. Truly over.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him. Tatsuya couldn't hold on any longer. He slid down the trunk of a tree and sat in the snow, lacking the strength to even lift a finger.
Just as his mind began to drift, a crusty but steady voice sounded from behind him without warning:
"Using traps to buy time, and with the body of a mere mortal... Boy, that wit, courage, and skill of yours is quite impressive. To survive until sunrise and handle a man-eating demon alone is no small feat."
Tatsuya froze and snapped his head around.
Standing a short distance away was the old peach farmer who often visited the village to trade—Jigoro Kuwajima. He wore his usual simple clothes and leaned on a peach-wood cane, supporting his single leg. But his eyes, usually gentle, were now as sharp as a hawk's.
Seeing the old man, whose aura was now entirely different, Tatsuya's tension finally snapped once he confirmed there was no threat. He struggled to his feet, his mind boiling with questions.
Kuwajima scanned the scene—the broken chains, the scattered traps, and the pile of ash. Finally, his gaze settled on Tatsuya's young but determined face, and he gave a small nod.
"You already know my name, but I am Jigoro Kuwajima," he said, his voice carrying an undeniable weight of authority. "I was once a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, holding the rank of Sound Hashira (Nari-Hashira). Now, I have retired to be a Trainer, responsible for cultivating new blood for the Corps and passing on the Breathing of Thunder."
"Demon Slayer Corps? Sound Hashira? Breathing of Thunder?" Tatsuya blinked. The influx of strange terms made his exhausted brain even fuzzier. "Grandpa Kuwajima... your secret identity is way more confusing than your peach varieties."
Kuwajima's stern expression softened into a fleeting smile. "Boy, you must have many questions. Speak. Since you dealt with a 'Demon' on your own, I shall make an exception and enlighten you today."
Tatsuya didn't stand on ceremony. Rubbing his aching forehead, he asked: "First question: that thing," he pointed at the ash, "what was it? It... it used to be Uncle Maeda from our village."
Kuwajima's expression turned solemn. "That was a Demon."
He continued in a low voice, "Creatures created by the progenitor of all demons, Muzan Kibutsuji, or humans transformed through his blood. They feast on humans, fear the sun, and possess immense regenerative powers. Ordinary blades cannot kill them; only sunlight or a specialized Nichirin Sword can destroy them utterly. The man you knew as Maeda died the moment he was transformed. What remained was merely a hollow shell driven by hunger and the urge to kill."
"Demons... Muzan..." Tatsuya chewed on the names, feeling a dark, vast world unveiling itself to him. "Then... what is the 'Demon Slayer Corps'?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. An organization that hunts demons," Kuwajima replied. "A group of swordsmen unrecognized by the government, who protect humanity from the shadows and fight demons to the death. We have done so for centuries."
"Sounds a lot more reliable than those government officials," Tatsuya grumbled. "And 'Sound Hashira'? Sounds grand."
"The core combat force of the Corps are the 'Hashira' (Pillars)," Kuwajima explained. "Each corresponds to a breathing style—Water, Flame, Stone, Wind, Thunder, and so on. I was the Sound Hashira, a master of Thunder Breathing and the guardian of its legacy."
As he spoke, he tapped his peach-wood cane lightly on the ground. A spark of sharp intent flickered, and the air seemed to crackle with a faint, imperceptible pop. A tree nearby, thick enough for two men to encircle, suddenly bore a deep gash that nearly cut it in half.
"Holy..." Tatsuya hadn't even seen the old man move. He sucked in a cold breath. "Breathing... Thunder Breathing? You mean... breathing like a thunderstorm?"
"You could put it that way." Kuwajima nodded. "Breathing styles are techniques that use specific breathing patterns to vastly enhance physical capabilities, pushing the blood and heart to their limits to grant the user the power to rival demons. Thunder Breathing is known for its extreme speed and explosive power."
"Got it. Long story short, you're the most badass old man in ten villages."
"Heh, I suppose you could say that."
The basic facts were clear. Tatsuya gathered his usable gear—his notched hunting knife and the broken chain—and followed Kuwajima back toward Momoyama Village through the dawn snow. After walking in silence for a while, Tatsuya looked at the old man.
"Grandpa Kuwajima, you're strong, right? You've killed many demons?"
"Yes." Kuwajima didn't feign modesty. "As a Hashira, I slew countless demons."
"Then!" Tatsuya's voice rose, filled with a sudden urge to vent. "If you're so strong and you were right there, watching me fight for my life, almost getting my head split open, and pulling an all-nighter playing 'You heal, I hack' with that freak... why did you just stand there and watch?! You could have at least lent a hand sooner!"
Remembering the fight made the wounds on his back sting even more.
Kuwajima didn't slow down. He turned his head, his gaze deep. "In a moment of true crisis, my cane would have become a demon-slaying blade. But more importantly, I needed to see for myself."
He paused, then continued: "I confirmed that your physical constitution, reflexes, and agility far exceed the norm. I confirmed your adaptability and combat intelligence in a desperate situation. And most importantly, I confirmed your will and resilience to protect others when facing the inhuman. These things are more precious in a battle against demons than mere strength."
He looked at Tatsuya with a look of scrutiny and a trace of hidden admiration. "You, Izumo Tatsuya, possess the qualities of an incredible unpolished gem."
Kuwajima stopped and turned fully to face Tatsuya. The morning sun climbed over the ridge, illuminating his stern face. His cane now felt as though it held the weight of a mountain.
"Izumo Tatsuya," the old man's voice was quiet but carried an undeniable weight. "Are you willing to become my disciple? To study Thunder Breathing, become a Demon Slayer, and use your talents to slay demons and protect the weak?"
The offer hit Tatsuya like a bolt of lightning on that clear morning path. He stared at Kuwajima. The small, elderly man was radiating an immense aura. Tatsuya looked toward the distant village for a long time, lost in thought.
"Grandpa Kuwajima... over these hundreds of years, how many people turned into demons, and how many people have demons eaten?"