Demon Slayer: Great Swordmaster System at the Start, My Teacher Tsugikuni Chapter 7

Even Rengoku Kyojuro, who was usually as passionate as fire, was looking at Yoriichi with an expression of extreme curiosity and surprise at this moment.

Kagaya, standing beside him, directly asked, "A disciple? Is this the child you picked up seven years ago?"

Nodding slightly, Yoriichi continued.

"He is very diligent and talented. Just as Tōshirō said, he will become an outstanding person in the future, capable of supporting the entire Demon Slayer Corps. I even see the possibility of him surpassing me!"

After speaking, Tsugikuni Yoriichi continued to drink his tea.

Tōshirō touched his chin and asked with some confusion.

"Wait, Mr. Yoriichi, you said your disciple is that little guy. Does that mean the one you asked me to take care of all these years was...?"

"That's right. The one I've asked you to look after all these years is the Scribe."

Hearing Yoriichi confirm his guess, Tōshirō finally understood that his sense of familiarity wasn't an illusion. Connecting the little guy from his home with the Scribe from earlier, he seemed to understand Yoriichi's words.

Unlike Rengoku Kyojuro, Ubuyashiki Kagaya was more focused on the last sentence.

Surpassing Tsugikuni Yoriichi?

Surpassing Tsugikuni Yoriichi, who taught the Demon Slayer Corps Breathing Techniques and is the teacher of all Hashira?

Does that child possess such great potential?

Although the statement sounded so unreal, it came from Yoriichi himself. This meant he had to ponder it deeply.

Surpassing Yoriichi?

Muttering the words, Ubuyashiki Kagaya's dim eyes seemed to brighten slightly.

If that's true, he might be the key figure to resolve his family's tragic fate of several hundred years.

While Tōshirō and the other two were discussing the Scribe, the Scribe himself had already packed his belongings. He carried a small cloth bag on his back and a sturdy wooden sword at his waist. Though simple, this was the Scribe's entire equipment.

Walking outside, he glanced back at the place he had lived for seven years.

"This is a new step, my first real step into this world. Let's go, towards where the Demons are!"

Gently closing the door, the Scribe walked towards the entrance of the Demon Slayer Corps.

Chapter 8: Boss, a large bowl of wide noodles, please.

As he walked towards the gate, the Scribe had already planned his next move. He knew very well that it would be difficult for him, an eight-year-old child, to leave. The Demon Slayer Corps base was surrounded by continuous patrols, twenty-four hours a day. They were the biggest obstacle preventing him from going out. However, the Scribe had already figured out their shift changes.

There were three minutes until their shift change, followed by a thirty-second gap. Hiding in a corner, the Scribe's eyes darted around, monitoring the movements of the patrol personnel.

Three minutes passed quietly, and it was time for the shift change. One team temporarily relaxed their vigilance and headed towards the resting area. Another team set out from the resting area, preparing to take over the positions of the previous team.

Realizing the opportunity had arrived, the hidden Scribe leaped out from the corner. His body instantly turned into an unbridled wild horse, transforming into lightning as he charged outwards.

Total Concentration Breathing!

His blood flow accelerated, his muscles instantly tightened, and his physical fitness surged. Silently circulating Total Concentration Breathing, everything around him seemed to recede at high speed. In the blink of an eye, the Scribe had rushed out and disappeared on the distant horizon.

At this moment, the personnel changing shifts had just taken over the positions of the previous team.

"Strange, did someone just run out?"

"What nonsense are you talking about? That was just a gust of wind."

The teammate speaking from behind tapped his companion's head, a look of helplessness on his face.

Laughing heartily, the teammate dismissed the thought.

Bursting out of the gate, the Scribe ran freely across the land, heading towards his destination.

After running a considerable distance, he slowly began to reduce his speed.

Observing his surroundings, the Scribe breathed a slight sigh of relief.

He was now a good distance away from the Demon Slayer Corps, so there shouldn't be any patrolling members around.

Confirming his location and adjusting his direction, the Scribe headed northwest.

He ate when he was hungry and slept when he was tired.

He didn't waste a single moment during his journey.

Even while resting or sleeping, he continued to practice his Breathing Technique.

Finally, after running for five days, the Scribe realized he was very close to his destination.

A small town appeared not too far ahead.

Beyond the town lay the forest.

He decided to rest briefly in the town and gather information about demons.

Upon entering the town, the Scribe quickly noticed that the atmosphere felt somewhat off.

Although it was broad daylight, many shops were closed and not operating.

Even in the shops that were open, there were very few people.

The reason for this situation in shops that made a living selling wooden crafts was quite obvious.

There was only one truth!

The presence of a demon in the forest had affected this town.

Walking up to a shop, the Scribe listened intently.

"Boss, where have all the young men in this town gone?"

"Sigh, I won't hide it from you, they've all disappeared into the forest northwest of town."

The shop owner sighed deeply, his brows filled with melancholy.

From the owner's words, the Scribe understood the general situation.

A few days ago, for some unknown reason, men who went to the depths of the forest to chop trees went missing one after another.

Not long ago, someone came to investigate this matter specifically, but after entering the forest, they also vanished.

The townspeople had also gone in to search, but all they found were pools of blood and torn clothing.

After finishing with the customer, the owner's voice grew even weaker.

This incident had a significant impact on the town, even affecting the daily lives of its residents.

After the disappearances of humans were discovered, very few people were willing to go chop trees anymore.

Even when they did chop trees, they only did so during the day and in the areas surrounding the forest.

Some even rumored that in the depths of the forest, a demon would abduct and devour people.

Those men from before were killed and eaten by the demon.

Hearing this, the Scribe had a general idea of what was happening.

The only thing that puzzled him was that this demon seemed to have not expanded its territory into the town.

After all, compared to the forest, the town had a much more abundant food supply.

Leaning against a house, the Scribe pondered some of the information.

Was it unwilling to come out, or was it unable to?

Various hypotheses formed in his mind, but the Scribe dismissed them all.

He touched his grumbling stomach, feeling hungry.

He went to a noodle shop and looked at the menu.

"Boss, I'll have a large bowl of wide noodles."

"Huh? Kid, why are you here alone?"

The noodle shop owner looked surprised that an eight-year-old child like the Scribe was eating alone.

Coupled with the backpack and wooden sword placed beside him, it made the situation even more peculiar.

Sensing the noodle shop owner's confusion, the Scribe recited the words he had prepared.

"I'm playing a role-playing game."

With a laugh, the owner's doubts were mostly dispelled.

After all, no matter how strange it was, what could an eight-year-old child do?

While eating his noodles, the Scribe struck up a conversation with the owner, trying to get some information about the demon.

"Uncle, do you think those recent rumors are true?"

Upon hearing this, the owner's expression immediately turned somber.

My nephew was part of the logging team, and he disappeared into the forest as well.

I heard the demons inside are like Tree Demons, able to control vines and branches.

The noodle shop owner sighed heavily as he relayed some of the news and rumors he'd heard to the Scribe.

However, even if I say this, you probably won't believe me, right?

No, I believe you.

Having eaten and drunk his fill, the Scribe paid for the noodles, slung his backpack back over his shoulder, and picked up his Wooden Sword.

Perhaps it really was a Tree Demon.

With that cryptic remark, the Scribe departed.

He left the noodle shop owner standing there, utterly bewildered and scratching his head.

Leaving the noodle shop, a faint smile appeared on the Scribe's face.

He had a general idea of the demon's information now.

Wandering around town, the Scribe purchased some essentials for demon hunting.

With everything prepared, the sun had already dipped below the horizon.

Watching his shadow lengthen on the ground, the Scribe knew the demon would soon be active.

Nighttime was the demon's time.

Standing at the edge of the forest, the Scribe stretched his stiff body.

Just as he was contemplating which direction to enter from, a faint roar reached his ears.

Following the sound, the Scribe found that the cry was coming from deep within the forest.