Naho was instantly terrified.
"Tanjiro… Tanjiro, where did he go? His condition is still very dangerous."
She turned to Vincent Fox almost instinctively, her voice trembling.
"Mr. Fox, do you know where Tanjiro went?"
Vincent gently patted her head and smiled.
"Don't worry."
"You know where Tanjiro went?" Naho asked anxiously, as if she had found a lifeline.
Vincent shook his head.
Naho's little face immediately crumpled.
Seeing her expression, Vincent could not help but laugh.
"Relax. With Tanjiro's personality, he would never do anything reckless. He'll be back before long."
"Really?" Naho asked, still looking uneasy.
"Of course. When Tanjiro comes back, you can scold him properly then."
That finally made Naho laugh. She nodded, reassured, and quietly left the room.
Late at night, Tanjiro dragged his exhausted body back into the ward. His expression was heavy and downcast.
"Did you get your answer?" Vincent asked softly.
Tanjiro froze for a moment, then nodded.
"Mr. Rengoku's father told me. My Breathing Style is Sun Breathing. But I don't understand… if I possess Sun Breathing, why am I still so weak?"
As he spoke, his eyes grew even more dejected.
"Did Rengoku Kyojuro's father say anything else?" Vincent asked calmly.
Tanjiro thought for a moment, then replied honestly.
"I knocked him out with a headbutt."
Vincent paused.
Tanjiro quickly waved his hands. "No, no, that's not what you think. Let me explain."
After returning to the Butterfly Mansion for brief treatment, Tanjiro had gone straight to the Rengoku estate.
There, he met Rengoku Senjuro and their father, Shinjuro. A fierce argument broke out. During it, Shinjuro repeatedly insulted both Kyojuro and Senjuro and tried to drive Tanjiro away.
Unable to retreat, Tanjiro ended up fighting him.
Shinjuro, once a Hashira, completely overwhelmed Tanjiro. But Tanjiro's headbutt was no joke either, and he knocked Shinjuro unconscious.
When Tanjiro regained consciousness, Shinjuro was already gone.
Senjuro brought out the journals left behind by generations of Flame Hashira, but when they opened them, they found the pages badly slashed and ruined, unreadable.
Still, from the fragments that remained, Tanjiro learned that Sun Breathing was the origin of all Breathing Styles, an extremely powerful foundation.
Vincent listened quietly to the whole story.
"Now the journals are destroyed, and I don't know what to do anymore," Tanjiro said, deeply discouraged.
Seeing the boy like this, Vincent felt he needed to say something.
He sat up on the bed and looked down at Tanjiro, who was a head shorter than him.
"But haven't you already found your own path?"
"Huh?"
Tanjiro froze.
"Were you really planning to rely on the Flame Hashira journals to become stronger?"
"You already possess such a powerful Breathing Style. Shouldn't you be working even harder to protect more people?"
"Strength grows slowly. If you want instant results, then cultivation probably isn't for you."
Hearing this, Tanjiro hurriedly waved his hands.
"No, Mr. Fox, I didn't mean that."
Vincent raised a hand to stop him.
"If that's the case, then it's settled. Go to sleep."
With that, Vincent lay back down.
Tanjiro stood there, staring at his back, and gradually understood.
That's right.
No one's strength comes out of nowhere.
If he didn't train harder and instead complained like this, then what kind of Tanjiro Kamado would he be?
"Thank you."
Tanjiro bowed deeply.
Then he hesitated and looked at Vincent again.
"Um… Mr. Fox, this might be rude, but could you tell me how long it took you to reach your current level?"
There was no response.
Tanjiro sighed softly and lay back down.
"A long time."
Vincent's voice came from behind him.
Tanjiro smiled.
He had not truly wanted the answer. He only wanted to know whether Vincent was upset by his earlier words.
Hearing the reply, he immediately understood.
"I get it."
Tanjiro nodded happily and fell asleep.
Several days passed.
The four of them continued their treatment and recovered significantly.
Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke never stopped training, pushing themselves to exhaustion every day.
Vincent, meanwhile, maintained his routine of running ten kilometers, doing push ups, and sit ups daily.
Though trivial for him, the gains were still noticeable.
At the same time, in a wealthy household far away, a refined young boy stood in a study, flipping through a thick medical tome.
Suddenly, a figure appeared before him.
The newcomer was drenched in blood red hues, as if soaked in gore. Pale white hair, multicolored eyes.
Doma knelt on one knee, head lowered deeply.
"What is it?" Muzan Kibutsuji asked coldly, showing no surprise at Doma's arrival.
"My lord, my good friend, Upper Rank Three Akaza, has been killed."
Rip.
The thick medical book in Muzan's hand was torn cleanly in half.
"What?" Muzan turned sharply, his voice icy. "By whom?"
"By the Demon Slayer Corps' Flame Hashira, and an unknown young man. That youth was extremely strong. Even Akaza was no match for him."
Doma answered carefully, forcing his voice to stay steady.
"Just a Hashira was enough to do this to you?" Muzan sneered.
"And the unknown youth. Have you investigated him?"
Doma swallowed hard.
"Not… not yet…"
"Then why are you here?" Muzan roared. "To report casualties?"
His rage exploded. The medical books shattered into fragments.
Under the pressure alone, Doma began bleeding from all seven orifices, his organs trembling.
Yet he dared not speak.
"Why are you Upper Ranks so weak?"
"Didn't you claim one of you could face three or four Hashira alone? How did just two kill him?"
Muzan instinctively assumed Vincent was a newly promoted Hashira.
Doma remained prostrate, trembling, blood dripping from his nose onto the floor.
"Trash."
Muzan turned away.
After a long silence, he spoke again.
"Notify everyone. Launch the total offensive early."
"Yes."
Doma answered quickly and retreated, carefully wiping the blood from the floor as he left.
----------------------------------------------------
The deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels. Don't wait read ahead and witness Vincent's rise before the world catches up!
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