Back at Momoyama, the Kakushi dropped Ryousuke off, and Rika immediately burst into tears, clinging to his haori.
Shota remained lurking in the shadows of the doorframe, a dark aura of jealousy practically manifesting into a physical entity behind him. Grit, grit, grit— the sound of his teeth grinding could have powered a millstone.
Tch. Useless older brother, Ryousuke thought, patting Rika's head.
"Stop crying. I'm not dead."
"But... but what if something really happens next time!" Rika sobbed.
"It won't. Your brother has more luck than he knows what to do with. I'm hard to kill."
I hope, Ryousuke added silently.
"Luck, my foot!" Jigoro hobbled over, raising his cane to whack Ryousuke's head, but softened when he saw the bandages. "The mission was over. Why did you actively seek out more danger?"
"Gramps, if I didn't kill that demon, someone else would have had to."
What Ryousuke actually meant was: I didn't want anyone else stealing my experience points. To him, demons weren't monsters; they were adorable little bags of lifespan.
"You're a good lad," Jigoro sighed, completely misinterpreting Ryousuke's greed as selflessness. "But that kind of heart gets people killed."
Breathing techniques have a miraculous effect on healing. Within two weeks, Ryousuke's ribs were knit. During that time, Shota went on his own first mission. Since so many survived the Selection, there were actually more rookies than there were "easy" demons for them to hunt.
Ryousuke sat at the edge of the training field, elongating every inhale. The air felt like a solid weight moving through him, dragging out the impurities in his blood.
Total Concentration Breathing: Constant.
This was his current focus. In simple terms, it meant making the specialized breathing a 24/7 habit—while eating, sleeping, or even using the bathroom. It turned an "Active Skill" into a "Passive Buff," removing the cooldown and allowing the body to stay at its absolute peak at all times.
"Breathing isn't effort; it's integration," Jigoro lectured. "Lightning doesn't just exist when it strikes. It is always brewing deep within the clouds, silent and building pressure."
Ryousuke tried again and failed. This wasn't something he could rush. Even Tanjiro spent months being tormented by the three girls at the Butterfly Mansion to master this.
[Heheh~ Host, for just one measly year of lifespan, I can make you a Master of 'Constant' instantly!~]
"One year, huh?" Ryousuke raised an eyebrow.
[Yup, yup! Total bargain!~]
"It's tempting," Ryousuke grinned. "But... Daga Kotowaru! (I refuse!)"
[WHAT?!] The System sounded genuinely offended.
Ryousuke cracked his neck. He needed to save ten years for his liver. Besides, he estimated he could master "Constant" on his own in six months. His lifespan was a finite resource for emergencies—like facing a Lower Moon. He couldn't afford to be a spendthrift.
Hard work is the only way to make the System's power truly mine, he thought. A god-tier sword in the hands of a baby is just a waste of steel.
Suddenly, his hummingbird blurred onto his shoulder. "Caw! Yasui Ryousuke! Mission!"
"Kanagawa Prefecture! Serial disappearances of young women at night! Investigate immediately!"
Before Ryousuke could stand, the bird chirped again. "Also! By order of Oyakata-sama, Yasui Ryousuke has been promoted to Kanoe rank! Caw!"
"Wait, what?!" Ryousuke blinked.
"Kanoe?!" Jigoro froze. Rika clapped her hands, eyes sparkling. "Wow! Ryousuke-niisan is so amazing! You jumped four ranks!"
Ryousuke's lip twitched. In the Corps, rank determined authority and the danger of the missions assigned. Jumping from Mizunoto (10th) to Kanoe (7th) in one month was unheard of.
That brat Kagaya... Ryousuke growled internally.
He was glad Shota wasn't back yet. If Shota found out Ryousuke had bypassed him by four ranks, the boy's competitive heart might actually explode.
A few days later, Ryousuke arrived in Kanagawa. He disguised himself as a simple traveler, hanging around teahouses and docks to gather intel.
"Another one gone... O-Kiku from the tofu shop. Such a sweet girl. She went to bring soup to her grandmother two nights ago and never came back."
"That makes six! No bodies, no tracks... it's like the night just swallowed them whole."
"The police are useless. But some people say... they heard a strange singing at midnight."
"Yeah! And my neighbor said her daughter found a seashell on her windowsill the morning before she vanished."
Seashells and singing, Ryousuke noted, buying some salted fish from a vendor to keep up his cover. This demon had a "theme." It was intelligent, selective, and likely used a Blood Demon Art involving sound or charms.
Night fell over Kanagawa, and the town became a ghost city, every door bolted shut from fear.
Except for two figures.
A young woman clung to her boyfriend's sleeve, her voice trembling. "Ken-chan, let's go back. It's too dangerous..."
"Don't worry!" The boy, Ken, puffed out his chest. "It's just rumors. The police say it's just kidnappers. As long as I'm here, no one will touch you."
He patted her hand, but as he did, a faint, ethereal hum drifted through the air. It was a melody that felt like silk—neither male nor female, sticky and hypnotic, coiling into the base of their skulls.
"The... the song..." the girl whispered.
Ken spun around to find the source, but his vision blurred instantly. He tried to call out her name, but his throat felt like it was filled with lead. He collapsed, unconscious.
The girl, however, didn't fall. Her terrified expression smoothed into a blank, hollow mask. She looked into the darkness of the alleyway and began to walk, her movements jerky and dreamlike.