Even Rengoku Kyojuro, who was always as passionate as fire, looked at Yoriichi with immense curiosity and surprise.
Kagaya, beside him, directly asked, "A disciple? Is he the child you picked up seven years ago?"
Yoriichi nodded slightly and continued.
"He is hardworking and talented.
"Just as Kyojuro said, he will become an outstanding person in the future, someone capable of supporting the entire Demon Slayer Corps.
"I even see the possibility of him surpassing me!"
After saying that, Tsugikuni Yoriichi continued drinking his tea.
Rubbing his chin, Kyojuro asked in confusion.
"Wait, Mr. Yoriichi, you said your disciple is that little guy. Could it be that the one you asked me to look after these past few years was...?"
"That's right. The one I asked you to look after all these years was Scribe."
Hearing Yoriichi confirm his guess, Kyojuro finally understood that his earlier sense of familiarity had not been an illusion.
Linking the little fellow who had stayed at his home with the Scribe he had just seen, he seemed to understand Yoriichi's words as well.
Unlike Rengoku Kyojuro, Ubuyashiki Kagaya cared more about the last sentence.
Surpass Tsugikuni Yoriichi?
Surpass Tsugikuni Yoriichi, the man who had taught the Demon Slayer Corps Breathing Techniques and was the teacher of all the Hashira?
Did that child truly possess such tremendous potential?
Though those words sounded so unbelievable, they had come from Yoriichi himself.
That made him unable to help but think deeply about it.
Surpass Yoriichi?
Muttering those words, Ubuyashiki Kagaya's dim eyes seemed to brighten slightly.
If that were true, then perhaps he would be the key to resolving his family's tragic fate of hundreds of years.
While Kyojuro and the others discussed Scribe, he had already packed his belongings.
He carried a small cloth bag on his back and wore a sturdy wooden sword at his waist.
Though simple, that was all of Scribe's equipment.
Walking outside, he turned back to look at the place where he had spent seven years.
This was a new step, my first true step into this world.
Let's go, toward the place where demons dwell!
Gently closing the door, Scribe headed toward the Demon Slayer Corps' main gate.
Boss, Give Me a Big Bowl of Wide Noodles
As he walked toward the gate, Scribe had already begun planning what to do next.
He knew very well that, as an eight-year-old child, leaving would probably not be easy.
After all, the area around the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters was patrolled around the clock, making it the greatest obstacle to his leaving.
However, Scribe had already figured out their shift schedule.
In three minutes, they would change shifts, followed by a thirty-second gap.
Hidden in a corner, Scribe's eyes constantly moved as he watched the patrols' movements.
Three minutes quietly passed, and it was time for the shift change.
One group temporarily relaxed their vigilance and headed toward the resting area.
The other group set out from the resting area, preparing to take over the first group's positions.
Realizing the opportunity had arrived, Scribe leaped straight out from his hiding place.
His body instantly became like an unbridled wild horse, like lightning as he charged outside.
Total Concentration Breathing!
His blood flowed faster, his muscles instantly tensed, and his physical abilities surged.
As he silently activated Total Concentration, everything around him rapidly receded as though moving backward.
In the blink of an eye, Scribe had rushed out and vanished beyond the distant horizon.
Only then had the people changing shifts just taken over the previous group's positions.
"Strange, did someone just run out?"
"What nonsense are you talking about? That was probably just a gust of wind."
The latter patrolman knocked the head of the teammate beside him, looking rather helpless.
Laughing, that patrolman no longer paid it any mind.
After rushing out of the gate, Scribe ran freely across the earth toward his destination.
After running quite a distance, he gradually slowed down.
After observing his surroundings, Scribe relaxed slightly.
This place was already some distance from the Demon Slayer Corps. Patrol members probably would not appear again.
After confirming his position and adjusting his direction, Scribe headed northwest.
When he was hungry, he ate. When he was tired, he slept.
As he traveled, he did not waste even a single moment.
Even while resting or sleeping, he continued training his Breathing Technique.
Finally, after five days of running, Scribe realized he was already close to his destination.
A small town appeared not far ahead.
Beyond the town lay that forest.
He would rest in town for now and gather some information about demons while he was at it.
After entering the town, Scribe quickly noticed that something about its atmosphere was off.
Though it was broad daylight, many shops had already closed for business.
Even the shops that remained open had very few customers outside them.
For shops that made a living selling wooden crafts to be in such a state, the reason was already obvious.
There was only one truth!
The demon in the forest had already affected this town.
Walking beside a shop, Scribe listened closely.
"Boss, where have all the young men in this town gone?"
"Ah, I won't hide it from you. They all disappeared in the forest northwest of town."
The shopkeeper let out a long sigh, his face full of desolation.
From the owner's words, Scribe understood the general course of events.
Some days ago, for some unknown reason, the men who went deep into the forest to cut trees began disappearing one after another.
Not long ago, someone had come specifically to investigate the matter, but they too vanished after entering the forest.
The townspeople had also gone in to search, only to find pools of blood and torn clothing.
After finishing his conversation with the customer, the owner's voice grew even weaker.
The matter had had a tremendous impact on the town, even affecting the residents' daily lives.
After people discovered the human disappearances, very few were willing to enter the forest to cut trees anymore.
Even those who did cut trees would only do so during the day and in the areas around the forest's edge.
Some even claimed that deep in the forest was a demon that abducted and ate people.
Those men from before had been killed and eaten by the demon.
By now, Scribe had a general understanding of the situation.
The only thing that puzzled him was that this demon did not seem to have expanded its territory into the town.
After all, compared to the forest, this town had far more plentiful food.
Leaning against a house, Scribe considered the information.
Was it unwilling to come out, or was it unable to?
All kinds of hypotheses formed in his mind, but Scribe rejected them all.
Rubbing his grumbling stomach, he felt a little hungry.
He came to a noodle shop and looked over the menu above.
"Boss, give me a big bowl of wide noodles."
"Huh? Little friend, why are you all alone?"
The noodle shop owner found it strange that an eight-year-old child like Scribe had come out alone to eat noodles.
Combined with the backpack and wooden sword set beside him, it seemed even stranger.
Noticing the noodle shop owner's doubts, Scribe spoke the excuse he had prepared long ago.
"I'm role-playing."
The owner laughed and dismissed most of his doubts.
After all, no matter how strange it was, what could an eight-year-old child possibly do?
As he ate his noodles, Scribe began chatting with the owner again, trying to obtain information about demons.
"Uncle, do you think those recent rumors are true?"
At that, the owner's expression instantly darkened.
"I believe them. One of my nephews was part of the logging team, and he disappeared in the forest too."
"I heard that the demon inside is like a tree spirit and can control vines and branches."
After telling Scribe some of the information and rumors he had heard, the noodle shop owner let out a long sigh.
"But even if I say that, you probably won't believe it, right?"
"No, I believe it."
After eating and drinking his fill, Scribe left the noodle money behind and put his backpack and wooden sword back on.
Maybe it really was a Tree Demon.
Leaving behind those cryptic words, Scribe departed.
The noodle shop owner was left standing there in bewilderment, scratching his head.
After leaving the noodle shop, a faint smile appeared on Scribe's face.
He had already roughly understood the demon's situation.
Wandering around town, Scribe bought some necessities for hunting demons.
After he had prepared everything, the sun had already fallen beyond the horizon.
Watching his shadow stretch longer and longer across the ground, Scribe knew the demon would soon come out to move about.
Night was the demons' time.
Standing at the edge of the forest, Scribe loosened up his somewhat stiff body.
Just as he was considering which direction to enter from, a faint roar reached his ears.
Following the sound, Scribe discovered that it came from deep within the forest.
Before you continue