Giyu stopped in his tracks when the salty sea breeze from the Izu Peninsula hit him.
He stood at the end of the hillside path, and the scene unfolding before him made his icy blue eyes widen slightly.
Shimoda Port resembles a giant beast crouching on the seashore, spewing smoke and noise.
Inside the port area, five or six steamships billowing black smoke were moored beside the stone pier, their cast iron hulls reflecting a cold, hard light in the sunlight.
Further away, white-sailed wooden boats resembled flocks of seagulls perched, their masts forming a chaotic pattern against the sky.
The ship's horn sounded intermittently, drowning out the cries of seagulls, the shouts of boatmen, and the orderly chants of dockworkers as they unloaded cargo.
On the shore, Western-style buildings and Japanese-style houses are haphazardly pieced together.
The walls of the brick warehouse are painted with the names of the goods in English and Japanese, and next to it is an izakaya with a noren curtain hanging.
Gentlemen and ladies in Western-style dresses walked by, holding parasols, brushing past fishermen carrying shoulder poles and workers carrying crates.
Some blond-haired, blue-eyed, high-nosed, deep-set foreigners were haggling with the vendors in broken Japanese.
Giyu's gaze swept over... a belted long skirt, a suit and top hat, a sailor uniform, and "skirt-pants" that he had never seen before, revealing the calves.
The women wore feather ornaments in their hair buns, and the men sported meticulously trimmed mustaches. All of this clashed with his image as a Demon Slayer Corps soldier in his uniform, with a sword at his waist.
He gripped the hilt of "Azure Tide" tightly, the scabbard against his side bringing him a slight sense of security. Then he stepped into this unfamiliar, bustling city.
Beside the third mooring post on the east side of the dock, her flame-patterned haori was too eye-catching; the gold and red colors stood out vividly against the gray dock background.
Shinjuro Rengoku stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a pillar. His signature long, golden-red hair was tied in a high ponytail, swaying gently in the sea breeze.
His eyes, as if forever burning, were now scanning the flow of people pouring out of the dock.
Then, he saw the white figure.
"Oh--! Tomioka!"
His booming voice, like a thunderclap, instantly drowned out the noise of the dock.
Passersby turned to look and saw a tall man laughing and waving in a certain direction.
Following the direction of his wave, people saw a slender boy wearing a white haori and carrying a long sword at his waist walking through the crowd.
The boy was very young... too young, he looked no more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
But there was no trace of youthful naiveté or curiosity on that face, only a frozen calm.
What's most striking are his eyes—ice blue, so clear they're almost transparent, yet unfathomable.
Giyu walked up to Shinjuro and nodded slightly.
"Mr. Rengoku."
"Oh dear, I already told you to just call Shinjuro!"
Shinjuro patted his shoulder hard, so hard that a passing vendor stumbled.
"Was the journey smooth? Did you encounter any ghosts?"
"It has been dealt with."
"As expected of you!"
Shinjuro laughed loudly, put his arm around his shoulder, and walked out of the dock.
"Let's go, let's find a place to rest first. We still have two hours before boarding the ship!"
He had only taken a few steps when Giyu encountered an unexpected "attack".
Three young women dressed in dresses and carrying small parasols walked from the side, seemingly passengers disembarking from a passenger ship.
Their gazes lingered on Giyu, then they exchanged a glance, bold smiles appearing on their faces.
The oldest one was about twenty years old, wearing a light pink belted long dress, with her hair styled in fashionable curls.
She took a half-step forward and stood in front of Giyu, tilting her parasol slightly to reveal her exquisitely made-up face.
"Young sir,"
Her voice was deliberately softened.
Is this your first time in Shimoda? You look lost.
Giyu stopped in his tracks, his icy blue eyes fixed on her, but he remained silent.
A girl in a pale yellow dress, standing next to him, covered her mouth and chuckled softly.
"Oh dear, don't scare him! Young sir, your clothes are quite unique. Are you dressed as a samurai from some domain? Is that sword real?"
The third girl was more direct, her eyes sparkling as she stared at Giyu's face:
"You're so beautiful! Even more beautiful than the models in those Western magazines in Yokohama!"
Giyu's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.
He turned to look at Shinjuro, his eyes asking, "What should we do?"
Shinjuro stood to the side with his arms crossed, a smug smile on his face, showing no intention of helping out.
"We are on a mission."
Giyu ultimately chose the most direct answer, his voice calm and even.
"Task?"
The woman in the pink dress's eyes brightened even more.
"Are you an official? Or...?"
"We are swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps."
Shinjuro finally spoke, his voice still loud and clear.
"He's currently tracking down an evil spirit that's harming humanity, so sorry ladies, this guy doesn't have time to play with you."
"Demon Slayer Corps?"
The three women looked at each other, clearly unfamiliar with the name.
But the word "evil spirit" made their expressions change slightly.
The girl in the pale yellow dress asked softly:
"Is it... one of those man-eating monsters? I've heard my father talk about it..."
"Exactly."
Shinjuro nodded, his smile fading slightly.
"So please make way, we really have urgent business to attend to."
The women hesitated for a moment, but ultimately made way. The woman in the pink dress glanced at Giyu one last time, her eyes filled with a mixture of regret and curiosity.
After walking a bit further away, Shinjuro finally couldn't help but burst into laughter:
"Haha! Tomioka, your face really attracts girls! How does it feel to get hit on by a girl?"
"Trouble."
"Trouble? You little brat!"
Shinjuro ruffled his hair vigorously. "When you're a little older, you'll realize this isn't a problem, it's a blessing!"
Giyu tidied his disheveled hair and decided not to continue the conversation.
After turning a street corner, the noise subsided slightly.
A row of food stalls appeared ahead, steam rising from the steamers, and the aroma of fried food wafting through the air.
Shinjuro took a deep breath, and his stomach rumbled in perfect unison. He grinned and said:
"By the way, have you had breakfast?"
Giyu shook his head. "We've been traveling. We haven't eaten."
That's perfect!
Shinjuro's eyes lit up.
"I know a ramen stall up ahead that's absolutely amazing! It's on me, as a way of celebrating our first collaborative mission!"
Giyu frowned slightly. "Aren't we here to kill demons?"
"Even when you're killing ghosts, you still need to eat!"
Shinjuro said matter-of-factly,
"Besides, I bought a ticket for the noon ferry to Hachijōjima. It's only Chenshi (7-9 AM) now, so we have plenty of time to rest."
He pointed to the dock in the distance, where a medium-sized steamship was loading and unloading cargo.
"See that 'Shippūmaru'? That's the ship we're going to take! It sets sail at noon and won't arrive at Hachijōjima until evening. So now... eat, rest, and recharge!"
Giyu remained silent for a moment, then accepted the arrangement.
Indeed, he has been traveling for two days and two nights since receiving the mission, only resting briefly for three hours last night.
Physical reserves are very important, especially when facing unknown dangers ahead.
"Good."
"That's right!"
Shinjuro happily put his arm around his shoulder and walked forward.
"Let me tell you, that ramen shop's broth is made by simmering a whole chicken and bonito flakes for a whole day and night, the noodles are handmade, and they're incredibly chewy! The char siu is so thick it covers the rim of the bowl..."
He described it at length, Giyu listened quietly, his icy blue eyes sweeping across both sides of the street.
There were so many things he'd never seen before: Western clocks displayed in glass cases, crooked English on signs, postmen in uniforms delivering mail on bicycles...
The world is vast.
The demon he was going to kill was hiding in the shadows of this world.
The ramen stall was set up at the entrance of a small alley, simple but clean. There were four or five low tables and a dozen or so small stools, and most of the customers were already seated.
The owner was a bald, middle-aged man wearing an apron stained with oil, who was using long chopsticks to scoop noodles from a large pot.
"Yo! Mr. Rengoku!"
The boss clearly recognized Shinjuro and greeted him loudly.
"You brought a friend today?"
"Boss! Same as always, two large bowls!"
Shinjuro found an empty table and sat down, patting the seat next to him. "Tomioka, sit down!"
Giyu sat down and carefully placed "Azure Tide" against the edge of the table.
This action caught the attention of several diners nearby!
People carrying knives are not uncommon in Shimoda Port, but those so young are rare.
Two large bowls of ramen were quickly served.
The soup was milky white, steaming hot, and you could indeed smell the rich aroma of chicken and fish.
Thick slices of char siu were laid out, the soft-boiled egg was cut in half, and dried bamboo shoots, seaweed, and scallions were piled up generously. The noodles were thick and simmered at the bottom of the soup.
Shinjuro clasped his hands together and shouted:
"I'm going to start eating!"
Then he picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a large mouthful of noodles, and stuffed it into his mouth without even blowing on it.
After chewing a few times, his eyes widened suddenly, and he gave a thumbs up. "Five ants... five ants... this is the taste!"
Giyu quietly picked up his chopsticks.
He ate slowly but steadily. He picked up a noodle, put it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. His movements were smooth and natural, without any unnecessary noise.
But the speed is astonishing.
By the time Shinjuro had taken his third bite, Giyu had already finished almost half a bowl. By the time Shinjuro had eaten half a bowl, Giyu's bowl was empty, and he had even drunk the soup clean.
"Boss."
Giyu put down his bowl and said calmly, "Another bowl, please."
The shopkeeper paused for a moment, then laughed and said, "Young man, you have a good appetite! Alright!"
The second bowl is served.
Giyu continued eating.
It was the same pace, unhurried but continuous. The noodles disappeared, the char siu disappeared, the soup disappeared... and the bowl was empty again.
"Another bowl, please."
The third bowl.
The fourth bowl.
The fifth bowl...
Shinjuro had only eaten half of his first bowl Giyu had already finished five.
He stood there, chopsticks in hand, dumbfounded, watching as Giyu expressionlessly put down the fifth empty bowl, then said to the owner, "One more."
The surrounding diners gradually quieted down.
Everyone stared at the thin boy in white, at the stack of empty bowls in front of him, and at his still flat stomach...
When the owner brought over the sixth bowl, his hand was trembling slightly.
Giyu took it and continued eating.
The seventh bowl.
The eighth bowl...
As Shinjuro finally finished his first bowl and patted his belly contentedly, Giyu was eating his twelfth bowl, with a tall pile of empty bowls already stacked up beside him, like a small mountain.
"Boss..."
A diner asked in a low voice, "That child... how long has it been since he ate?"
The boss wiped the sweat from his brow. "I... I don't know either..."
Shinjuro looked at Giyu and suddenly burst into laughter:
"Haha! Good lad! That's more like it! This is how much Zhu should eat! Boss! Give me another bowl too! We can't lose to the younger generation!"
"Okay, okay!"
So it turned into a competition.
Shinjuro tried his best to catch up, and when he finished his second bowl, Giyu was eating his fifteenth bowl.
When Giyu was eating his nineteenth.
After finishing the fourth bowl...
Shinjuro put down his chopsticks, patted his round belly, and panted:
"I can't take it anymore... I can't eat anymore... Are you a black hole?"
Giyu had just finished his twentieth bowl.
He put down his bowl, thought for a moment, and said:
"I'm about 70% full. Three more bowls should be enough."
"..."
The entire room fell silent.
The long chopsticks in the boss's hand fell into the pot with a "thud".
In the end, amidst the awe-inspiring gazes of everyone, Giyu finished his twenty-seventh bowl of ramen.
Thank you for your hospitality.
He said this to Shinjuro, then looked at the boss.
"How much?"
The boss, still reeling from the shock, mechanically counted the empty bowls:
"Two, twenty-seven bowls... one bowl... a total..."
Shinjuro placed a stack of banknotes on the table, his smile somewhat forced.
"N-nothing, it's okay, I promised to treat..."
As I walked out of the ramen stall, the owner was still muttering to himself, "Twenty-seven bowls... twenty-seven bowls... am I dreaming...?"
Back on the street, a sea breeze blew, Shinjuro finally recovered from his shock.
He looked Giyu up and down, his eyes searching for some rare and exotic beast.
I said Tomioka...
He spoke, his tone complex.
"How did your belly... fit twenty-seven bowls of ramen? And you don't look fat at all!"
Giyu looked down at his abdomen and thought for a moment:
"Breathing Style! Fast digestion! High energy expenditure!"
"High energy consumption?"
Shinjuro recalled the battle report from Crimson Sakura Village and suddenly understood, "That makes sense... Your fighting style must have taken a tremendous toll."
He patted Giyu on the shoulder, this time with much less force:
"But next time, let me know in advance so I can bring enough money. Raising you is expensive!"
Giyu said earnestly, "I'll return it to you after the mission is over."
"Give me back what?!"
Shinjuro waved his hand.
"I said it's my treat, and that's it! But next time let's go somewhere cheaper... Ramen is too expensive, let's have rice balls instead, they're all-you-can-eat."
The two walked along the street toward their booked hotel.
It was a small hotel near the dock, with rooms on the second floor facing the harbor. The owner was a silent old man who took the money, handed over the key, pointed to the stairs, and didn't say a word more.
The room was simple. There were six tatami mats, two floor mats already laid out, and a low table in the middle.
The harbor was right outside the paper window, and you could see the "Shippūmaru" undergoing its final loading.
Shinjuro closed the door, his smile fading.
The two sat facing each other on either side of a low table.
Shinjuro took out a rough map from his pocket and spread it out on the table. It was a simplified map of Hachijōjima, with the coastline drawn crookedly and the island's terrain only roughly marked.
"The Iguro Family mansion is here."
Shinjuro pointed to an area on the north side of the island, "Near the coast, there's supposedly a private dock. The family there has been whaling and coral harvesting for generations; they're practically local tyrants on the island."
His finger moved toward the center of the island:
"The disappearances started primarily in these fishing villages three months ago. The bodies were all found on the beach, and they looked like they had been eaten. The islanders initially thought it was a shark, but then they realized... the teeth marks weren't right."
The air in the room grew heavy.
The hustle and bustle of the docks drifted in from outside the window; the sounds of ship horns, shouts, and waves became indistinct background noise.
"Special warning from the Oyakata-sama."
Shinjuro spoke slowly,
"He said this mission might involve an entity 'beyond the Lower Rank '. Normally, a Pillar shouldn't be sent for this kind of investigation, let alone two. But the Oyakata-sama said... he 'saw' something bad."
Giyu raised his eyes. "You see?"
"Prophecy."
Shinjuro explained,
"The Ubuyashiki Clan with this ability: to see fragments of the future. Though blurry and incomplete, they are enough for them to seek advantage and avoid harm."
"The Demon Slayer Corps has been able to continue for a thousand years, accumulate so much wealth, and build such a massive organization because of this ability."
He paused, then added:
"The Oyakata-sama's prophecies have never been wrong. If he says to be careful, there must be a reason why we must be careful. If he says we might need two Pillars, it means... we might be facing something more than an ordinary demon, or even something as simple as a single Upper Rank."
"Understood."
There were only three words, but Shinjuro understood the weight they carried.
"So,"
Shinjuro rolled up the map,
"We'll set sail in an hour. Let's rest a bit, check our equipment. Once we're on the island, we probably won't have time for a proper sleep."
Giyu nodded, walked to the window, sat cross-legged, placed "Azure Tide" across his lap, closed his eyes, adjusted his breathing, and brought his body to its optimal state.
Shinjuro looked at him, smiled, and lay down on the floor futon as well.
Soon, even snoring filled the air.
Outside the window, the harbor whistle sounded again.
At noon, the "Shippūmaru" sounded its horn to signal the start of its voyage.
Black smoke billowed from the chimney, the propeller churned the seawater, and the ship slowly left the dock.
Passengers crowded along the ship's railing, waving to those seeing them off on the shore. Giyu and Shinjuro stood in a corner of the upper deck, away from the crowd.
The ship sailed out of the harbor, and the coastline gradually became blurred.
Before me stretched an endless sea, deep blue, shimmering with tiny golden glints in the midday sun.
The sea breeze grew fierce, carrying a pure, salty smell, causing their haori (traditional Japanese jackets) to flutter loudly.
"Wow! The sea is so vast!"
Shinjuro opened his arms wide, took a deep breath, and his long, golden-red hair danced wildly in the wind.
Every time I see the sea, I feel how insignificant humans are, but it is precisely because of this insignificance that we must strive even harder to burn brightly!
Giyu quietly gazed at the sea.
He had never seen the sea before; this was his first time!
That boundless blue, that unfathomable mystery, reminded him of his Breathing Style — the Water Breathing.
Water can be a stream, a waterfall, a deep pool, or it can be this vast ocean.
If all goes well, we should arrive by evening.
Shinjuro pointed southeast.
"Hachijōjima isn't too far, but the currents are complex, so the boat can't go too fast. And..."
He lowered his voice:
"I inquired and the captain of the 'Shippūmaru' said that the waters near Hachijōjima have been quite turbulent lately. Fishing boats have gone missing, and some crew members said they saw strange lights on the island at night."
"There were very few passengers on this ship. Besides us, there were only a few merchants who had to go to the island and a few islanders who were going home to visit relatives."
Giyu glanced at the passengers on the deck. There weren't many, only about twenty, and most of them were silent and worried.
"They know about ghosts?"
"I know some."
Shinjuro said,
"Rumors have spread across the island that the Iguro Family has angered the sea god and that there are man-eating monsters on the island. As a result, many people have moved away with their families, and most of those who remain are fishermen controlled by the Iguro Family who cannot leave."
Time slipped away in the monotony of the voyage.
The sun slid from overhead toward the west, its color changing from fiery white to golden. The sea breeze grew cooler, and twilight began to fall over the sky.
"I see it! Hachijōjima!"
The lookout's shouts came from the bow.
Giyu and Shinjuro looked up at the same time.
On the southeastern horizon, a dark outline emerges from the sea fog.
At first it was just a blurry line, but as the ship approached, it gradually revealed its shape... rolling mountains, steep cliffs, and the faint outlines of houses.
The island appeared somber in the twilight.
The setting sun was sinking into the sea, turning the western sky a blood-red hue.
It was almost dark when the boat docked.
The crew lowered the ramp, and the passengers disembarked one by one. Giyu and Shinjuro were the last to leave, and as their feet touched the land of Hachijōjima, the last rays of the setting sun sank below the horizon.
Night fell.
Only a few dim oil lamps flickered in the wind on the dock. Several islanders stood in the distance, silently watching the new passengers; their eyes held no welcome, only wariness and... fear.
Shinjuro took a deep breath, his fiery eyes shining brightly in the twilight.
"Then... let's begin," he said in a low voice, his voice tinged with fighting spirit.
Giyu gripped the hilt of "Azure Tide" tightly, his icy blue eyes sweeping across the island in the darkness.