"So, what say you? Will you join the Demon Slayer Corps?"
Hmm.
I find myself at a crossroads.
My intention in seeking out the Demon Slayer Corps was merely to secure a Nichirin Blade through trade; I never harbored any desire to actually enlist in their ranks.
Based on Rengoku‘s supplementary explanation, most members are driven by the tragic loss of their families to Demons. I, however, have no such vengeful motive.
Furthermore, it is clearly a hierarchical military society—and a military during the Sengoku period at that? I cannot even begin to imagine the extent of the harsh treatment and hazing that might occur.
Yet, seeing Rengoku—who looks barely an adult—occupying the highest seat of 'Hashira' suggests it is a meritocratic organization.
Nevertheless, I have no desire to be ground down by 'passion pay' in the name of patriotism. There is no law stating one can only obtain a Nichirin Blade by joining the Corps; I should perhaps look for other avenues.
"Suppose I were to be recruited. Roughly speaking, what would the compensation be?"
Rengoku blinked, his eyes widening for a moment, before he broke into a laugh.
"You are the first person I have met to ask that! Most members join as volunteers, driven by their own resolve, without ever mentioning such matters!"
"Well, I have no tragic tale regarding Demons. Nor do I harbor a grand mission to wipe them from the face of the earth. I have no intention of sacrificing myself for the sake of hollow patriotism. Are you disappointed that I am so worldly?"
"Not at all! Far from it!"
His eyes were startlingly clear. Was this fellow serious? Was he truly a Sengoku-era samurai, a class usually obsessed with honor?
"Our Demon Slayer Corps is always short-handed! We are in a situation where every single person counts! If I can recruit one capable individual, it means ten or more lives can be saved!"
...Wait a minute. If he goes this far and I still refuse, won't I look like absolute scum?
"If you join the Corps, you will be issued a Nichirin Blade, a uniform, and a Kasugai Crow—like my Tosen!"
This was starting to sound like one of those cheap mobile game ads you see on social media.
A weapon capable of killing Demons for free?
"Can I request the sword be forged in the shape I desire?"
"Indeed!"
What? Even custom-made?
Still, the main issue was the salary.
"And as for a starting member‘s salary... it is roughly this much!"
He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it over.
No matter how flowery the words, if the pay was a pittance, I would refuse—
Wait, what?
I looked back and forth between the paper and the beaming Rengoku.
"Just how much are they paying..."
Uzui peered at the paper as well, her reaction mirroring mine.
"Did you write the number wrong...?"
"No, that is certainly correct!"
It was far too much money to refuse.
Damn, the monthly pay was higher than my annual salary in my previous life.
Is the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps loaded? Is this a charity? Even factoring in hazard pay, this was absurdly generous.
.....
"Hmm. Is something troubling you? Is it perhaps insufficient?"
"No, that‘s not it."
If anything, it was more than enough.
However,
The ones weighing on my mind were Uta and Yoriichi.
Of course, I couldn't even imagine Yoriichi dying.
Could that monster even be killed?
Even without a Nichirin Blade, if a hundred of those hair-demons from earlier showed up, he would likely slaughter every single one of them.
It wouldn't be bad for Yoriichi to join the Corps as well, but I didn't want to force him to do something he disliked. Moreover, Uta's life should remain far removed from such violence.
Should I leave Uzui behind?
"The reason I hesitate for both Uzui and myself to go is due to the family we must support. Our home is near the mountains, and if a Demon were to appear while I am away, it would be problematic."
It wasn't that I didn't trust Yoriichi, but there was always the 'what if.' If a Demon appeared while Yoriichi was away for even a moment...
"Is that so? Hmm...."
"Uzui, you stay."
"Wow, now that you‘ve used me up, you‘re just going to throw me away like a worn-out shoe? How very flamboyant of you."
"Oh, please..."
What is with this woman lately?
Suddenly, as if hit by an inspiration, Rengoku spoke up.
"Then you shall become my Tsuguko!"
Tsuguko? A successor?
"Tsuguko? You‘re telling me to become your heir?"
"Precisely! A Tsuguko is the direct successor of a Hashira! If you become one, housing will be provided! You can move your family there, and all your worries will be solved!"
Hold on, hold on.
"Wait a minute. Isn‘t that a bit too much of a privilege? We‘ve only met today; isn't this giving away far too much?"
And there would be a backlash. If a complete stranger from who-knows-where suddenly became the successor to a Hashira, the resistance within the organization would be immense. Especially in the Sengoku period, where the caste system still held firm.
"It matters not! A Tsuguko is chosen by the Hashira themselves or requested by a member! Since I, a Hashira, have chosen you personally, do not trouble yourself! And yes, as you said, this is indeed a privilege!"
"Why grant me such a favor?"
"I saw the place where you fought the Demon. It was incredible. If the aftermath and Tosen‘s report are true, that Demon definitely used a sorcery known as a Blood Demon Art. A powerful one, at that. Even I would have had to stake my life against such a foe! Yet you two killed it without Nichirin Blades!"
That weakling? It was certainly annoying with the hair flailing everywhere, but I didn't think it was that strong. Though, it was a bit of a hassle that it wouldn't die until the sun came up...
"To lose such talent would be a massive loss for the Corps! Such privileges are a small price to pay!"
You bastard! You‘re actually a good guy!
I removed my mask.
"My name is Tsugikuni Michikatsu. It would be unbecoming of me to withhold my name and face after being granted such a favor. This here is Uzui Ei."
"So you are the eldest son from that Tsugikuni runaway incident! Haha! To think I would meet the protagonist of that scandal here—the event seven years ago when all the heirs of the Tsugikuni clan vanished! That family head even came to visit my household!"
What? Was I that famous?
"Prepare to move, Yoriichi."
"Prepare to move?"
Uta blinked in confusion.
Big brother just landed a job at a major corporation.
Our lives are finally on track! Nothing but a flowery path ahead!
"But why are you following us? You already told us where the Final Selection takes place."
Rengoku Tenjuro had followed us all the way home, as if he still had something to say.
Weren‘t you busy?
"The Final Selection is quite dangerous! Many perish during the exam! Thus, it is customary for a Cultivator to first gauge one's aptitude for the sword and physical ability! Once one's merit is proven, they learn a style, and only after the Cultivator deems them ready are they sent to the Final Selection!"
"But hasn't our skill already been proven?"
"Indeed! However, Tosen mentioned that your swordsmanship is most peculiar! He described it as evocative of the moon! Since I have never heard of such a style among those I know, I had to ask: Did you have a specific Cultivator?"
"No, it is a swordsmanship I created myself..."
"That is magnificent! Would you be willing to demonstrate it? No, wait—it would be impolite of me to ask to see another's style before showing my own! Allow me to demonstrate my 'Flame' first!"
I thought you said you were busy.
Brother returned with a stranger and suddenly announced that we were moving.
Observing the beat of his heart and the tension in his muscles, he seemed truly happy, so it appeared to be the truth.
The man who introduced himself as Rengoku Tenjuro possessed muscles as well-honed as Brother‘s, and his face was bright, evocative of the sun itself.
Moreover, when he spoke of the 'Selection,' his voice carried a hint of worry, and when he initially asked to see Brother's swordsmanship before retracting it as impolite, his tone was genuinely apologetic. The rhythm of his heart told me that everything he said was sincere—he was a righteous and kind soul.
After conversing with Brother, Rengoku Tenjuro stepped into the yard and drew his sword from its sheath.
The blade glowed with a vermilion light, engraved with a flickering pattern that resembled real flames.
He swung the sword from low to high. It was as if a fierce blaze roared upward, incinerating everything in its path.
It was an incredibly disciplined and aggressive form of swordsmanship.
Yet, Brother wore a look of utter dismay as he spoke.
"Something so frail could never be called swordsmanship."
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