Kanroji Mitsuri skipped away from the Butterfly Mansion, carrying a half-empty food box, a satisfied and gossip-loving smile on her face.
As a Hashira, she had her own territory to patrol. Being able to squeeze in ti to deliver intelligence while also indulging in a bit of romance made the trip more than worthwhile.
The courtyard soon fell quiet again.
Rin withdrew his gaze and looked over at Zenitsu, who was still sprawled on the ground pretending to be dead, as well as the confused Tanjiro and Inosuke nearby.
"Stop lying there. Get up and pack your things."
Rin tapped the stone slab at his feet with his toe, producing a sharp sound. "You have half an hour. Bring a change of clothes and your weapons, then et at the main gate."
Tanjiro froze for a mont before instinctively touching the Nichirin Blade at his waist. "Rin-san, are we going to the Swordsmith Village as well?"
During the battle aboard the Mugen Train, his blade had suffered several chips from cutting through the hard carriage to save people.
Although it was still usable, if they were to face the Twelve Kizuki, such a damaged weapon would undoubtedly beco a fatal weakness.
"What, are you planning to fight an Upper Rank with a fire poker?" Rin said bluntly. "All of your blades need to be reforged anyway, so you might as well go. Besides, if you're lucky enough to run into the vermin Muzan sends, you can treat them as training."
"Tr-training? Using Upper Ranks as training?!"
Zenitsu, who had been playing dead, shot upright like a spring, clutching his head in terror.
"I'm not going! Even if you beat to death, I'm not going! That Swordsmith Village sounds like it's deep in the mountains—if I get cornered there by an Upper Rank, there won't even be bones left of ! I'd rather stay at the Butterfly Mansion and help Aoi with the laundry!"
"You don't have a choice."
Rin's gaze turned cold, a trace of unquestionable pressure flashing through his pitch-black eyes. "Either you walk there yourself, or I break your legs and have the Kakushi carry you. Your pick."
Waah.. he's more grumpy than my grandpa!! Sensing that tangible killing intent, Zenitsu instantly shut his mouth, tearing up as he dragged Tanjiro toward the dormitory.
Inosuke, on the other hand, grew so excited that white steam seed to puff from his nostrils. Waving his two chipped swords, he shouted about going to the village to challenge the strongest swordsmith.
After dismissing the three of them, Rin turned and walked down the corridor, heading straight for the private dical room deep within the Butterfly Mansion.
Pushing the door open, a rich, fresh scent of dicinal herbs greeted him.
Kocho Shinobu stood at the workbench, carefully packing several vials of differently colored concentrated dicine into a small black leather leg pouch. Hearing the door open, she didn't turn around, though her movents quickened slightly.
"Leaving?" Her voice was calm, betraying no emotion.
"Yeah. Going to pull a few of Muzan's fangs."
Rin walked over and leaned against the edge of the workbench, watching as she neatly sorted bandages, hemostatic powder, and antidotes.
"The Swordsmith Village is the lifeline of the Demon Slayer Corps. Its location is highly confidential—not even the Hashira know its exact whereabouts. Since Muzan has found it, he must have sent elites with specialized tracking thods or spatial Blood Demon Arts."
Shinobu turned and handed him the packed dical pouch.
She looked up, her deep violet eyes eting his. "This is a broad-spectrum antidote I formulated using the latest wisteria extract. It can suppress the toxins of most demons. There's also a high-concentration coagulant. Even if it's hard for a monster like you to get hurt, it's better to have it just in case."
Rin took the pouch and weighed it in his hand. It was heavy—not just with dicine, but with all the concern of the woman standing before him.
He didn't respond to her careful instructions. Instead, he suddenly reached out, his fingertips gently brushing the faint dark circles beneath Shinobu's eyes—traces left by days of staying up late to prepare dicine.
"Don't keep staying up all night in the lab while I'm gone. If you've lost weight by the ti I get back, I'll tie you to the bed and force-feed you."
Rin's tone was as casual and overbearing as ever.
Shinobu's cheeks ward slightly. She instinctively wanted to turn her head away from his touch, but in the end, she didn't move.
"Hmph! Stop being so full of yourself. I'm in charge of the Butterfly Mansion—I have countless injured to treat every day. Where would I find the ti to stay up late like that?" she muttered, biting her lip.
Then, as if making up her mind, she reached out and grabbed his wrist.
"Rin..."
She called his na, her eyes more serious than ever.
"Even if you have the strength to kill an Upper Rank instantly, I've read the ancient records of the Demon Slayer Corps. The higher-ranking mbers of the Twelve Kizuki have existed for centuries. Their Blood Demon Arts are bizarre and unpredictable."
"I won't allow you to underestimate them."
Seeing her tense expression, Rin closed his hand around hers, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Don't worry. The demon capable of killing hasn't been born yet in this world."
He lowered his head and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, as gentle as a falling feather.
"Take care of things here. Wait for to co back for dinner."
Without any drawn-out farewell, Rin fastened the dical pouch at his waist, turned, and strode out of the dical room.
Watching his departing figure, Kocho Shinobu took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of her heartbeat.
"What an… impossible bastard to refuse."
…
Half an hour later, outside the main gate of the Butterfly Mansion.
The three fully ard "cockroaches" were already lined up with their packs on their backs.
Tanjiro carried the wooden box containing Nezuko, looking full of energy. Zenitsu's face was written with pure despair, as if he had already given up on life. Inosuke, wearing his boar mask, paced back and forth restlessly.
Standing before them was a logistics mber of the Demon Slayer Corps' Kakushi.
His na was Goto. Most of his face was covered, and he looked extrely nervous.
"Um… Rin-sama, Tanjiro."
Goto swallowed hard, pulling out several thick black cloth strips and a few strange nose plugs from the cloth bag on his back. Bracing himself, he spoke:
"According to the highest confidentiality regulations of the Demon Slayer Corps, anyone heading to the Swordsmith Village, regardless of rank, must be blindfolded and have their ears and noses blocked. Then, mbers of the Kakushi will transport you in stages, constantly switching guides along the way to ensure the village's location is never revealed."
As he spoke, Goto glanced at Rin's half-smiling expression, and his legs began to tremble.
Was this a joke? Asking this monster—this man who had once pinned all the Hashira to the ground during the Hashira eting—to wear a blindfold and nose plugs and be carried around like cargo?
He had no doubt that the mont he insisted, he would be cut in half with a single stroke.
As expected.. Rin looked at the "confidentiality kit" in Goto's hands and let out a cold laugh.
"A blindfold? Nose plugs?"
Rin gripped the hilt of his Kusanagi sword with one hand, his cold gaze sweeping over Goto. "Your master personally promised the position of Special Executive Officer, exempt from all Corps regulations. And now you want to transport like cargo, blind and helpless? Do you really think those rules apply to ?"
Goto was so frightened that he dropped to his knees on the spot, cold sweat soaking his back.
"L-Lord Rin, please calm down! I would never dare offend you! It's just that the rules of the Swordsmith Village have been passed down for centuries. If they're broken, it will be difficult to explain to Oyakata-sama!"
"There's nothing difficult to explain."
Rin's tone was absolute.
"Since Muzan has already found a trace of the Swordsmith Village, your so-called secrecy asures are nothing but a joke."
"I'll say this once. Either hand over the map, or you lead the way. As for the blindfolds…" His gaze flicked toward Tanjiro and the other two, still standing there in confusion. "…just put them on those three. Their brains aren't exactly reliable anyway—they won't rember the route."
"Eh?! Why do only we have to wear them?!" Zenitsu scread in despair.
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12 Advance chapters: Patreon/slept01
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