"Tell me the details of what happened."
After a brief silence, Urokodaki Sakonji took a deep breath, steadied his emotions, and pressed for more information.
Riku's situation was too significant—it involved critical questions. He was the only demon known to be unaffected by sunlight. Urokodaki needed to get the full story and report it to the Demon Slayer Corps' headquarters.
"After parting ways with Tanjirō, I was traveling through the mountains at night when I encountered a Demon Slayer. She didn't believe my words and moved to kill me. But as she attacked, my vision blurred, and my body vanished from the forest. I found myself in a bizarre, otherworldly place.
The people there spoke a language completely different from ours, lived lives unlike anything we know, and used objects I couldn't even begin to understand. This skin I have now? It was normal there. A doctor treated me and gave me this new body."
Riku recounted the experience, his story sounding like something straight out of folklore, except with a cyberpunk twist. Every word was true, though he left out some finer details.
"I don't know how I got to that world—one moment, I was just there. And I don't know how I returned either—one moment, I was back in the forest. I checked the area afterward, and there was nothing special about that forest."
There wasn't a trace of falsehood in Riku's words because, undeniably, he truly had no idea how the crossing between worlds worked. Even if pressed, he couldn't explain it.
Urokodaki listened, dumbfounded, unable to respond at first. This… wasn't this just a classic tale of a mortal encountering the divine? Arriving without knowing how, leaving without knowing why, in a strange and wondrous world—mysterious and unfathomable.
Was this kid spinning a story? Did this young man think Urokodaki was some uneducated fool? In reality, all Demon Slayer Corps members received cultural education, and literacy was a basic requirement.
They even used kasugai crows to exchange messages. Urokodaki had learned about the Kamado siblings through a letter delivered by Tomioka Giyū's crow.
Of course, there were exceptions, but Urokodaki was certainly not one of those illiterate outliers. As a mentor, he was responsible for teaching the children under his care to read and write. Training in Breathing Techniques, literacy, and physical conditioning were all prerequisites for becoming a Demon Slayer.
Fortunately, money was never an issue for Demon Slayers. As a high-risk profession, even the lowest-ranking "Mizunoto" members earned exorbitant salaries, and the Hashira could take as much as they wanted without question.
Urokodaki could hear echoes of various myths in Riku's tale, but the otherworldly setting was entirely new—something he'd never heard of before.
Did gods and Buddhas truly exist in this world? Urokodaki wasn't sure. But the Ubuyashiki clan was undeniably cursed, with every newborn child frail and prone to early death. The only way to mitigate the curse was through marriage with the bloodline of the shrine priests, generation after generation, as guided by the divine.
Moreover, the Ubuyashiki clan possessed an uncanny intuition, almost heaven-sent in its precision. It was this keen instinct that had saved the Demon Slayer Corps from total annihilation multiple times, allowing it to endure to this day. That same intuition also enabled the clan to secure ample funding to sustain the Corps.
To Urokodaki, Riku's experience seemed plausible, or at least not entirely incomprehensible. And while Riku's story sounded like something out of a kaidan (ghost tale), Urokodaki's sharpened senses told him the young man wasn't lying. Every word rang true.
Urokodaki had no doubts. As a former Hashira who'd survived intact to this age, his instincts were honed through countless encounters—each time sniffing out a demon's presence just in time, each time narrowly escaping danger.
"But why? Why… you?" Urokodaki asked, genuinely puzzled. Why would gods and Buddhas favor a demon like Riku?
It was the same question he had about the Ubuyashiki clan: why did the gods curse them instead of the Demon King?
What did divine favor mean? What kind of mission was Riku meant to carry? Whose side was he on?
"How can a mortal fathom the will of the gods?" Riku shook his head, saying no more. His goal was already achieved—he'd led Urokodaki step by step into his narrative trap. Now, the old man could fill in the rest with his own imagination.
As for whether gods and Buddhas truly existed in this world or what they thought of him, Riku didn't care one bit. This was his second time in this world, both times uninvited, bouncing back and forth through dimensions.
If there were gods here who cared, they would've come for him by now. Since they hadn't, he'd just do whatever he wanted. Worrying about higher-dimensional beings? He'd rather worry about the [Limit System].
That thing was far more overbearing. Not only did it drag him across worlds at will, but its experience system seamlessly integrated into any world he landed in—clearly a higher level of power.
But what was the point of worrying? Could he just stop using the [Limit System]? There was a good question: fame and glory, or a life of obscurity?
Without the system, he might've died a meaningless death at the hands of a Demon Slayer. With it, he could keep leveling up, growing stronger. No one in their right mind would pass that up.
When the system activated, Riku had already made up his mind. No matter what, using it meant he'd come out ahead. He'd already reaped the benefits—whatever came next, he'd deal with later.
"Riku, as promised, I'll teach you everything I know. But I need to organize your story and report it to the head of the Demon Slayer Corps," Urokodaki said gravely. This was unprecedented—a demon immune to sunlight, a tale of divine encounters. It was beyond his own understanding. Perhaps the Ubuyashiki clan, who'd led the Corps to this point, would know what it all meant.
He also felt a twinge of pressure. Could he properly guide such an extraordinary being?
"I don't mind," Riku said with a nod. It didn't matter to him. No matter who asked, he'd stick to the same story.
Every word he spoke was true. Even if they had other lie-detection methods, they wouldn't find anything amiss.
(End of Chapter)