The Rengoku Family's Past; Treating Ruka Rengoku

"2...4...6..."

As soon as he finished counting, he planned to speak to the swordsman guarding him.

Just then, the Scribe suddenly spoke.

You miscounted.

Scratching his head, Yaozai blinked, thinking he had really miscounted.

After counting again, he realized that he had not miscounted.

He glanced at the Scribe and saw that the other person still shook his head.

With a furrowed brow, Ubuyashiki Kagaya began to ponder what exactly was wrong.

Suddenly, a possibility occurred to him.

Could it be that...?

His gaze returned to the Scribe, and his voice trembled slightly.

"Mister Scribe, are you also planning to go back with us?"

Without saying a word, the Scribe simply snapped his fingers.

Seeing their guess confirmed, Yaozai and the two swordsmen instantly became excited.

This marks the first time in decades that Sun Breathing Swordsman has returned to the Demon Slayer Corps!

In an instant, all three of them became excited.

Although he couldn't see the other person's face, Himejima could still feel the excitement of Yaozai and the others.

He was somewhat confused; was it really such an exciting thing that the Mister Scribe was going with him?

Under Yaozai's arrangement, the group soon embarked on their journey back to the Demon Slayer Corps.

After several days, they finally arrived at their current base.

Wow, this place is huge!

The children were amazed when they first came here.

Soon, their gasps of amazement were drowned out by the cheers of the swordsmen.

There is no other reason.

Because standing next to the children are figures from the history of the Demon Slayer Corps.

Sun Breathing Swordsman, Scribe.

If it weren't for Ubuyashiki Kagaya accompanying the Scribe, these swordsmen would probably have surrounded Scribe.

"Yaozai, is the Scribe really that popular here?"

After listening for a while, a hint of doubt appeared on Himejima's face, and he asked Yaozai in a low voice.

"Hehe, you'll soon find out that Mister Scribe's popularity isn't just a matter of popularity."

The Scribe responded with a smile to the crowd that admired him to some extent, and even to some extent, the crowd.

After walking deeper into the area for a while, the Scribe suddenly raised an eyebrow.

"Yaozai, is there anyone in the Demon Slayer Corps who hates me?"

Faced with the Scribe's doubts, Yaozai shook his head without hesitation.

In his view, the swordsmen were too busy praising the Scribe to resent Scribe.

But judging from the Scribe's expression, he didn't seem to be joking.

Sweat slowly trickled down his forehead as Yaozai began to expel it one by one.

Just then, the Scribe suddenly spoke up.

"No need, they came out on their own."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a figure suddenly emerged from around the corner ahead.

Flame-colored hair, a resolute face, and a fiery red Nichirin Blade at his waist and cloak behind him.

Even a child can feel a fiery passion emanating from the other person.

"This is a powerful swordsman."

Having made a judgment about the other party in his mind, Himejima couldn't help but frown.

Although I am blind, I am not stupid.

He could clearly feel the immense pressure emanating from the other person.

Its purpose was to serve as Scribe.

He took a step forward, his tall figure blocking the Scribe's path.

Although the other party's purpose is unknown, this man clearly has no good intentions.

"Mister Scribe, please be careful."

Scribe looked at Himejima Gyomei standing in front of him and shook his head.

"Get out of the way, you can't beat him."

"Besides, his situation is not quite the same as yours."

After speaking, Scribe stepped out from behind Himejima and looked at the man not far away.

Their eyes met, and Scribe smiled slightly.

"Are you still angry about what happened back then?"

The man didn't speak, but simply drew his Nichirin Blade from his waist.

Upon seeing the man draw his sword, Yaozai tried to speak up to stop him.

As soon as he opened his mouth, he was stopped by the Scribe.

"It's no use, his obsession is too deep."

The Scribe waved his hand, signaling them not to come closer.

"It's too crowded here, let's find another place."

With that, the Scribe took the lead and walked towards an open space.

The man didn't say anything, but simply drew his knife and slowly followed.

And so, the two arrived at a training ground.

"I understand how you feel, so I'm giving you a chance."

With a sigh, the Scribe's face showed a complicated expression.

"Whether you believe it or not, your ancestor, Tōshirō, was my good friend."

The Scribe's words did not move the man; instead, after hearing them, the man gripped the knife even tighter.

He took a sudden step forward and took a deep breath.

"Rengoku Family, Rengoku Shinjuro, humbly requests your guidance!"

Chapter 121 The Past of the Rengoku Family, Healing the Rengoku Ruka

When Shinjuro opened his eyes again, he found himself lying in the Demon Slayer Corps' medical room.

"Am I... not dead?"

Looking at the bandage on his chest, Shinjuro slowly recalled what had happened.

"As expected, we lost again."

A hint of worry appeared on his face; he rarely showed such a downcast expression.

He licked his lips, realizing he was a little thirsty.

Just then, a glass of water was handed to him.

"If you wake up, drink some water; it's good for your health."

Looking up, Shinjuro saw a male doctor wearing a mask standing in front of him.

Behind him were some medical supplies such as bandages for treatment.

It seems that the doctor in front of me saved me.

"Thank you."

He took the water glass and drank it down in one Shinjuro.

After gulping down a few times, he returned the empty water glass to the doctor.

The doctor took the water glass, turned around and put it aside before going to clean it up.

Seeing the other person's busy figure, Shinjuro suddenly spoke up.

"Doctor, are you aware of what just happened?"

"Yes, I was there at the time, and I'm the one who brought you back."

Looking up at the pristine white ceiling, Shinjuro felt a tear well up in his eye.

"I don't blame anyone, I only blame myself for being too weak to find out the truth from back then!"

As he spoke, he clenched his fist and tapped himself.

"I just want to know what exactly happened back then!"

With one hand supporting his head, tears streamed uncontrollably down Shinjuro's face.

"If you want to know the truth about what happened back then, why don't you just ask them directly?"

Upon hearing the doctor's words, Shinjuro was taken aback.

Then, realizing what was happening, he shook his head.

"How could that be? Telling the truth will only embarrass him."

"How would you know if you don't ask? I know that official, maybe I can put in a good word for you."

As he spoke, the doctor took off his mask.

Seeing the Scribe take off his mask, Shinjuro suddenly froze.

He never imagined that he would meet the Scribe again in this way.

"If you want to know the truth about what happened back then, I can tell you right now."

Putting the mask aside, Scribe sat down in a chair and spoke slowly.

"Back then, I had just returned to the Demon Slayer Corps from outside when I learned of Tōshirō's death."

The Scribe spoke slowly and in great detail.

From learning of Tōshirō's death, to the effects of the Demon Slayer Mark, and finally to himself and Tsugikuni Yoriichi being expelled from the Demon Slayer Corps.

As he listened to the Scribe's words, Shinjuro's expression changed repeatedly.

From initial slight anger, to solemnity, then to a sigh, and finally to silence.

As night fell, the Scribe finally finished all his work.

"Are all of these true?"

After hearing all the stories, Shinjuro's lips trembled slightly.

He never imagined that such a thing would have happened with the Demon Slayer Corps back then.

Why would I need to lie to you?

The Scribe poured another glass of water and handed it to Shinjuro.

He took it and drank it all in one Shinjuro.

"Back then, nobody knew this would happen."