Moriyama Akira patted his chest, drunkenly making bold declarations.
As the saying goes, "When a man is thirty percent drunk, he'll act until you cry."
Ryosuke didn't mind, just smiled and played along.
"Sure, sure, I know."
The noise of the izakaya gradually faded behind them.
The night wind blew on his body with a chill, slightly dissipating the heat brought by the alcohol.
Ryosuke didn't go back to that cramped inn but casually leaped onto a roof.
Moriyama Akira followed clumsily, and soon was lying sprawled on the side, snoring softly.
The surroundings quieted down completely.
Overhead was the night sky, dotted with stars, the Milky Way like a ribbon.
It was much clearer and brighter than the city night sky shrouded in light pollution from his previous life.
Ryosuke rested his head on his arms, an indescribable melancholy washing over his heart.
In his previous life, he was solitary and distant, like an inconspicuous stone in a corner of the city.
His parents died early, relatives were indifferent, he had few friends, and his work was mechanical and repetitive. The only solace after work was the cold screen and virtual world in his rental room.
Socializing? That was a burden.
Life was like a pool of stagnant water, without a single ripple.
He was living only because he hadn't died yet.
But now...
Ryosuke felt as if the tip of his nose could still smell the soil and peach blossom scent of Momoyama.
Rika's chattering concern seemed to ring in his ears.
Jigoro's stern yet caring eyes flashed before his eyes, as well as Shota's awkwardness of clearly being unconvinced but unable to resist competing.
And Tamayo's gentle appearance with tears in her eyes.
Now there was also Moriyama Akira.
Vivid faces flashed through his mind one by one.
Although the start was hell difficulty,
Although there was a pitfall System eyeing his pitiful lifespan every day,
Although he had to face all kinds of disgusting and terrifying demons...
This demon-slaying path forged with his life... didn't seem so bad.
At least, he wasn't alone anymore.
There were people waiting for him to come home, people fighting alongside him, people with consistent goals.
This life was no longer just about existing; it had weight, and things he wanted to grasp and protect.
He turned his head and glanced at Moriyama Akira, who was drooling.
Although this guy was trash-tier weak, his luck was heaven-defying and he had no bad intentions. He could be considered a decent mascot.
A smile brushed across the corner of his lips. Ryosuke closed his eyes, allowing the alcohol and fatigue to envelop his body, his breathing gradually steadying in the night wind.
...
The next day.
Moriyama Akira let out a painful groan. The headache from the hangover made him wish he could bury his head in the ground.
"Ugh... is it morning?"
He sat up groggily and found that Ryosuke beside him had already risen.
He was standing at the edge of the roof, breathing in rhythm with the rising sun.
Every breath carried a cadence, and his whole body radiated majestic vitality.
Moriyama Akira shook his head, feeling that Ryosuke-san seemed different.
He couldn't say exactly what was different, but he felt more spirited.
"Awake?"
Ryosuke didn't turn back, his tone urging: "Pack up and let's go."
"Huh? Oh! To Mt. Sagiri!"
Moriyama Akira finally reacted and followed Ryosuke to jump off the roof.
The two left Yamagata Prefecture and strode into the distance.
...
The early morning of Mt. Sagiri was soaked in thick fog and sweat.
The undissolvable mist pressed upon the mountains. Taking a breath, the nasal cavity was filled with the scent of vegetation.
Far and near, figures of young boys constantly flashed in the mist.
Looking at these figures, Ryosuke frowned in thought.
Compared to Thunder Breathing, Water Breathing was gentler and also the easiest to learn among all Breathing Styles.
Therefore, Urokodaki Sakonji had many more disciples than Jigoro.
Their training methods were also completely different.
One focused on explosive power and speed, the other on endurance and resilience.
Ryosuke lamented: "Back at Momoyama, we focus on instantaneous explosive power. Training is like risking our lives; one uncontrolled sprint and you can easily throw yourself off. Mr. Urokodaki's side... feels more grinding."
"It is like that."
Moriyama Akira nodded, seemingly recalling his own suffering with a bitter smile. "I suffered a lot during training back then too."
Ryosuke smiled and didn't say anything.
He suffered much more than they did.
When he first started training, he would never forget the throbbing pain and tearing sensation from that broken liver.
Turning past a mountain forest shrouded in mist, the view opened up a bit.
On a relatively flat clearing stood several boulders twice the height of a person.
Two young boys were constantly swinging their swords at them.
One boy had flesh-colored medium-length hair, silver eyes with horizontal pupils, and a scar on his right cheek. It was Sabito.
Every time he swung the wooden sword, it carried the sound of breaking wind, and stone chips fell rustling down.
The black-haired boy beside Sabito was much more silent.
Tomioka Giyu had a handsome and clean face with no expression. Compared to Sabito's swiftness, every time he swung his sword, it was like a gurgling stream.
Although it looked soft and powerless, the power was not weak at all.
"Sabito! Giyu!"
Moriyama Akira waved and shouted.
The sword-swinging motions stopped simultaneously.
Sabito turned his head at the sound, his eyes curving into crescents: "Moriyama-senpai!"
He responded heartily and strode over to welcome him.
Giyu also silently sheathed his sword and followed behind.
"Mission over? How was it in Yamagata Prefecture?"
Sabito's voice carried the clear vitality unique to teenagers, his curious gaze landing on Ryosuke.
"Mhm... the demon was quite tricky, but it's all resolved." Moriyama Akira scratched his head, saying somewhat awkwardly.
He didn't contribute much, still got carried to victory; Ryosuke killed the demon.
"And this is?" Sabito asked.
"Oh! Right!"
Moriyama Akira quickly turned sideways to introduce.
"This is Yasui Ryosuke, a Thunder Breathing swordsman from under Mr. Kuwajima Jigoro of Momoyama! It was all thanks to him during the Final Selection at Mt. Fujikasane!"
His tone carried undisguised admiration: "It was him who single-handedly cleared out most of the demons entrenched in Mt. Fujikasane, and finally slew the Hand Demon! If not for him, I'm afraid not many from our batch would have made it out..."
Sabito sized up Ryosuke carefully, respect in his eyes.
"So it was you! Yasui Ryosuke!"
Sabito's voice was filled with excitement: "Moriyama-senpai and the juniors who came back later all mentioned you! Clearing Mt. Fujikasane alone... protecting the lives of so many comrades participating in the Final Selection..."
He took a deep breath and bowed deeply to Ryosuke.
"Sabito deeply admires this achievement and responsibility! Thank you!"
Ryosuke looked at this boy who should have died early in the original timeline to buff Tanzi... Tanjiro and Giyu, but was now vibrant with life. A strange warm current and sense of accomplishment surged in his heart.
"You flatter me."
Ryosuke reached out to hold Sabito's arm, stopping him from continuing to bow.
I'm not that good. I just did what you would have done—
The silent Tomioka Giyu also raised his dark blue eyes at this moment, staring fixedly at Ryosuke, and spoke with utmost seriousness.
"You are very strong. To kill so many demons and not die."