Demon Slayer: Rewriting Tragedies with Super Vision — Chapter 176

Chapter 176: Besiege Giyuu, Activate

The days following Kanae’s birthday celebration settled into a comfortable, familiar rhythm. Akira returned to his daily routine, dedicating his mornings to rigorous physical training to maintain his peak condition. Occasionally, he ventured out of the estate to fulfill his duties as a mobile support unit for the Demon Slayer Corps, patrolling the territories that bordered the deep forests.

Most of his recent excursions, however, were less about high-stakes rescues and more about venting his quiet frustrations. He was stuck at a maddening bottleneck.

The Demon Slayer Corps had grown exponentially over the past year, and Akira was no longer the sole swordsman carrying the weight of the organization at the Hashira level. The new proctoring mechanism applied during the Final Selection had successfully weeded out those who relied on sheer luck to survive. This drastic improvement in the overall competence of the official swordsmen meant that emergency flares and desperate calls for backup were becoming a rare sight.

Instead, the true source of Akira’s irritation lay within his own martial progression. His comprehension of the Transparent World remained stubbornly halted right at the finish line.

A full year ago, he had reached the deep state of seeing oneself with the heart. If the Transparent World were measured on a progress bar, he would have easily cleared the halfway mark back then. Through slow, agonizingly precise meditation and countless battles, he had ground that progress up to ninety percent. Following Gyoumei’s insightful pointers and a particularly enlightening conversation with Shinobu, he had surged to ninety-nine percent.

It felt as though a massive breakthrough was imminent. Yet, months had slipped by, and the final barrier refused to shatter.

It was not entirely stagnant. Every time Akira calmed his breathing and sank into deep meditation, his perception would inch forward by microscopic fractions. Ninety-nine point nine. Ninety-nine point nine nine. It was always just a hair’s breadth away. Staring blankly at the wooden floorboards of his dojo, Akira felt the exact same sense of hollow powerlessness he had experienced in his previous life when dealing with a certain shopping app’s notorious price-cutting promotions.

On a brighter note, Mitsuri had met his rigorous training requirements a month prior. She had stepped into the Final Selection and emerged victorious, officially claiming her uniform and blade.

Participating in the brutal mountain trial alongside her was Muichiro.

Akira had initially wanted the young prodigy to train for a longer period, hoping to grant the boy a few more years of relative peace and safety before throwing him into the meat grinder of the demon war. Unfortunately, Muichiro did not share that sentiment. The counterargument the boy presented had been entirely impossible for Akira to refute. Akira had been only thirteen when he carved his way through his own Final Selection, and Muichiro had just turned thirteen this year.

Coupled with Muichiro’s terrifying natural talent, there was simply no holding him back. After only a few short months of studying Mist Breathing, the boy’s raw combat strength was already sufficient to rank him among the middle tier of the current Hashira. Akira had no logical reason to stop him, leaving him with no choice but to let the boy go.

Watching Muichiro depart for the mountain, Akira finally understood the deep, lingering anxiety Jigorou must have felt all those years ago when he agreed to let a young Akira take the test.

As his brief rest period ended, Akira pulled his wandering thoughts back to the present. He picked up his wooden sword, preparing to resume his forms, when the familiar sound of beating wings echoed above. Ink Shadow descended from the canopy, delivering an urgent summons for a Hashira Meeting.

Three swordsmen were being elevated to the rank of Pillar this time: Shinazugawa Sanemi, Iguro Obanai, and Tokito Muichiro.

‘Wait, who? Muichiro?’

Upon hearing the crow’s raspy announcement, Akira actually dropped his wooden sword. Even with his sky-high expectations for the boy’s growth rate, he could not stop a sound of pure surprise from escaping his throat.

It had only been a single month since Muichiro passed the Final Selection. Forget the current roster of Hashira; looking back through the entire blood-soaked history of the Demon Slayer Corps, this speed of ascension was nothing short of monstrous. Sanemi and Obanai earning their titles in a little over a year was already considered incredibly fast, but placed next to Muichiro’s record, their achievements looked entirely ordinary.

Somewhere in the Rengoku estate, Shinjuro was likely thanking the heavens he had retired early.

However, the realization that the Wind Hashira and the Serpent Hashira were officially taking their seats at the gathering brought a different thought to Akira’s mind. The corners of his mouth curled upward into an uncontrollable, highly entertained smirk.

Somewhere out there, Giyuu was about to have a very bad day.

The gravel crunched underfoot as Akira stepped into the serene courtyard of the Ubuyashiki Estate.

“Big Brother Akira!”

Muichiro called out the moment he spotted him, the boy’s usually vacant expression melting away into a bright, enthusiastic greeting as he hurried over.

Sanemi stood a short distance away, his arms crossed over his scarred chest. He offered a stiff but deeply respectful nod in Akira’s direction. Though the Wind Hashira was notoriously terrible at expressing his feelings, Sanemi harbored a deep gratitude toward Akira for helping resolve the bitter, tangled conflict between him and his younger brother.

Obanai, true to his nature, was huddled in the darkest corner of the garden. Already thin and small in stature, he seemed to actively compress his presence, trying to blend into the shadows. When Akira glanced his way, the Serpent Hashira offered only the slightest dip of his head.

With his lower face heavily wrapped in bandages and a cold, venomous aura radiating from his frame, Obanai practically screamed at everyone to stay away. Naturally, only Kyoujurou possessed the sheer, blinding optimism required to breach that defensive perimeter, marching right up to greet him with his usual booming enthusiasm.

Shinjuro had once saved Obanai’s life, and the young man had received a great deal of care during the time he sheltered with the Rengoku family. Faced with Kyoujurou’s overwhelming warmth, Obanai did not retreat into complete silence, offering a quiet, clipped sound of acknowledgment in return. It was barely a response, but anyone paying attention could feel Obanai consciously dialing back his hostile aura while the Flame Hashira stood nearby.

Across the courtyard, Giyuu stood observing the new arrivals. He took a breath, his mouth opening as he clearly intended to contribute a welcoming remark to the gathering.

Before a single syllable could escape his throat, Sabito’s hand shot out, clamping firmly over Giyuu’s mouth and dragging him a half-step backward.

Noticing the brief struggle, a flicker of disappointment crossed Akira’s eyes. It was only a fleeting emotion, though. Akira had absolute, unshakable faith in Giyuu’s catastrophic lack of social awareness. Sabito was fast, but he could not possibly babysit the Water Hashira forever.

The meeting soon commenced under Kagaya’s gentle guidance, following the traditional procedures. When the specific details regarding the three promotions were brought to light, Akira found himself leaning forward in interest.

They had cleared Mount Natagumo.

Months ago, Akira had specifically requested Kagaya to send scouts to investigate that particular mountain, acting on his knowledge of the future. However, the initial sweeps had found absolutely no traces of demonic activity, leading them to temporarily shelve the matter. Kagaya had simply arranged for members of the Kakushi to conduct routine checks on the perimeter.

It was not until very recently, when a Kakushi ventured too deep into the forest and vanished without a trace, that the threat was officially confirmed.

At the time the distress report came in, Akira had been entirely occupied with Kanae’s birthday celebrations., since the exact strength of the demons occupying the mountain was unknown, Kagaya deemed it inappropriate to deploy a veteran Hashira directly and interrupt Akira’s personal time.

Coincidentally, the three swordsmen patrolling closest to Mount Natagumo were Sanemi, Obanai, and Muichiro. Knowing their exceptional combat capabilities, Kagaya dispatched the trio to investigate the disappearance and eliminate whatever lurked in the shadows.

According to their reports, the three had held a brief discussion at the base of the mountain. Supremely confident in their own strength, they decided to split up and comb the forest from three different directions to save time.

Sanemi and Obanai had drawn the short straws in terms of formidable opponents. They spent their time carving through the bizarre, fabricated Spider Family that had been forced to play house with the territory’s ruler. If Sanemi and Obanai had not already accumulated a massive amount of merits from previous high-level missions, exterminating those lesser demons would not have been enough to secure their promotions today.

Muichiro, on the other hand, had walked straight into the mastermind’s clearing.

What surprised Akira the most was the detail Muichiro casually dropped next. The demon he faced, a boy named Rui who manipulated razor-sharp threads, possessed the kanji for Lower Rank Three etched into his eyes.

Akira’s eyes narrowed slightly. In the original timeline, Rui had been Lower Rank Five. It seemed Muzan, favoring the spider demon due to their somewhat similar tragic backgrounds, had pumped him full of extra blood to accelerate his growth.

Yet, despite the significant boost in power, a Lower Moon Three was still nothing more than a stepping stone for Muichiro.

As the rest of the veteran Hashira absorbed the fact that a thirteen-year-old boy had effortlessly decapitated a Lower Moon after only a month of official duty, a collective wave of astonishment rippled through the courtyard.

It was during this exact moment of deep distraction that Sabito’s vigilance finally slipped. His hand dropped away from his friend’s face.

Giyuu seized his window of opportunity.

“The Demon Slayer Corps really has all kinds of people now.”

The words left Giyuu’s mouth in a perfectly flat, monotone drawl. There was no malice in his voice, no intentional cruelty, but the sheer, unfiltered condescension of the phrasing hit the courtyard like a physical blow.

Absolute silence slammed down over the garden.

Every single person present, including Kagaya who sat serenely on the porch, turned their gaze slowly toward the Water Hashira. The three newly minted Pillars standing in the center of the courtyard reacted instantly. Sanemi’s jaw locked, a vein pulsing violently at his temple. Obanai’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his hand drifting toward his hilt. Even Muichiro blinked, his blank stare sharpening into something cold and evaluating.

Every one of them interpreted the vague, poorly timed comment as a direct, arrogant insult aimed at their worthiness to stand in this courtyard.

Akira pressed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking slightly as he fought to suppress a laugh. Giyuu’s legendary art of language truly never disappointed.

The siege against Giyuu had officially begun.

[Inorin’s Note: The “one more cut” promotion mentioned in the text refers to a notorious marketing gimmick used by certain real-world shopping apps. Users are promised a highly valuable free item if they can get enough friends to click a referral link to “cut” the price down to zero. However, the progress bar is rigged to always get stuck at 99.99%, requiring an absurd, endlessly scaling number of referrals to clear that final microscopic fraction of a percent.]