'Thirty seconds to slay a demon, but days to find one... Looking back now, I seem like a clown for saying something so ridiculous.'
'I really didn't expect to run into such a heavyweight demon here.'
'Upper Rank Five, Gyokko... Why is he here?'
Kiyokawa Izumi never imagined he would encounter an Upper Rank on a routine mission.
Was there something special about this small village?
Why would that bastard Gyokko show up here?
"Get back! Don't make me say it a third time!"
The two Team Members were startled by his stern tone as Kiyokawa Izumi spoke with some impatience.
"The one here is an Upper Rank!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, looks of terror inevitably appeared on the Team Members' faces, disbelieving what Kiyokawa Izumi had said—it was a subconscious reaction.
Upper Rank demons like this were far too beyond them.
Without any mental preparation, hearing a Hashira say it was an Upper Rank made their instinctive reactions rather unsightly, but it was understandable.
They were nowhere near a match for even a Lower Rank; despite being Official Members, the Twelve Kizuki felt like a distant myth to them.
It wasn't that ordinary members hadn't encountered Upper Ranks before—it was just that no one knew about it because encountering one meant certain death.
There was no other possibility.
"You seem to know me? That's impossible; the news shouldn't have spread.
Hey, are you a Hashira of this generation? How rare; how many years has it been since I last ran into a Hashira?
How long ago was the last time I killed a so-called Hashira? Thirty years ago, or fifty?
Which Hashira was it again?"
Patterns were engraved on the plain white porcelain pot; purely visually, it wasn't ugly, but thinking about its connection to Upper Rank Gyokko brought a wave of nausea for some reason.
It was probably because he remembered something Tokito Muichiro had said.
"Your pot, it's asymmetrical!"
The pitch-black mouth of the jar seemed bottomless, and ten porcelain-white skeletal fingers extended along the rim, though the voice had already reached them.
This individual's level of anthropomorphism was quite low; one could say his appearance was far from human.
Two green lips grew where the eyes should be, while eyes grew on the forehead and mouth respectively—on the lower golden pupil, the number five was engraved.
When the ordinary members looked up, the eye on the forehead was engraved with the characters for Upper Rank.
Cold sweat trickled down their temples, and their bodies couldn't stop trembling—the Hashira wasn't joking with them, it really was an Upper Rank!
Was this a joke?
Why would they encounter an Upper Rank here?
Having some seniority, they knew very well that the Upper Rank demons hadn't changed for at least a hundred years.
Many Hashira had been killed by these powerful demons!
Their limbs wouldn't obey, but reason told them they had to draw their nichirin blades and fight.
Mr. Kiyokawa Izumi had only recently become a Hashira; having passed the Selection just this year, he still had much room for growth and could become even stronger... They had to help him! They had to fight!
They understood this in their hearts, but fear was unavoidable.
Unable to draw their nichirin blades as they normally would, just meeting that single eye's gaze filled them with an overwhelming sense of pressure, leaving not a shred of courage in their hearts.
"Nice to meet you. I am Upper Rank Five, Gyokko!"
Gyokko, entirely white, had an exceptionally developed upper body with five purple fins atop his head and tiny, infant-like hands on his sides that were currently waving about.
"Before we start fighting, can we chat for a bit? It's been a very, very long time since I've encountered a Hashira, so please understand my excitement.
Which Hashira did I run into last time? The Water Hashira? Or was that the time before?"
Gyokko swayed his body; his lower half was as black as ink, with a snake-like tail tightly connected to the mouth of the pot.
Perhaps due to overexcitement, his body kept swaying.
His thoughts were easy to guess.
It had been too long since he met a Hashira—in his eyes, a so-called Hashira was an extremely rare Material. Inspiration was exploding at this moment, and he had to deliberate carefully; such rare Materials couldn't be used haphazardly.
What kind of artwork should he make?
These Demon Slayers all used Breathing Techniques; the Hashira before him, whose presence was inconspicuous, seemed to be using a Breathing Technique he had never seen before?
Even rarer!
"Can you tell me which Breathing Technique you use? Perhaps I should take it into account; the name shall be 'The Dying Hashira.'
What do you think of that name?"
Kiyokawa Izumi remained silent.
Because the pressure was too great, he didn't want to speak.
A strange thought appeared in his mind.
Maybe he should just chat with this guy? Talk to him about art, spout some nonsense, and try his best to stall for time, waiting for potential reinforcements.
Every second stalled increased the chances of survival.
Asking him to fight an Upper Rank right now—wasn't that a joke?
In subjugating Upper Rank Four, Five, or Six, he could be an excellent support, but how could he possibly be the main attacker alone?
'I'm really not a qualified Hashira, am I? Other Hashira might be thinking about how to win, while I'm thinking about how to survive... How shameful!'