Chapter 190: Inosuke: Do You Think I'm Stupid?
Akira didn't mind that the wild boy had started shoveling food into his mouth long before the referee could even shout "Start." It hardly mattered; Inosuke had absolutely no chance of winning this.
When it came to sheer eating capacity, Akira's appetite easily stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Mitsuri's, and even edged out Kyoujurou's bottomless stomach. Conversely, despite Gyoumei's towering, muscular physique, the gentle giant actually ate a fair bit less than the Flame Hashira.
Right now, Inosuke was little more than an ordinary kid with a slightly larger-than-average appetite who happened to have been starving for a few days. Trying to catch up to Akira's terrifying consumption rate was a fool's errand.
A short while later.
"Hic... I... hic... I... admit defeat... Ugh—"
Inosuke slumped over the table, his hands clutching his swollen stomach. He looked completely stuffed, right on the verge of vomiting.
Across from him, Akira leisurely wiped his mouth with a napkin. Hmm. About seventy percent full.
He turned his head, noting that Gyoumei had also set down his chopsticks. Raising a hand, Akira caught the restaurant owner's attention.
"Boss, the check."
Ignoring the gaping crowd of onlookers who had gathered to watch the spectacle, Akira dropped a thick stack of bills onto the wooden table. He stood up, gesturing for Inosuke to follow, and stepped out of the restaurant.
Normally, Inosuke hated being watched. His hyper-sensitive instincts made the heavy gazes of a crowd feel like a swarm of insects crawling over his skin, leaving him irritable and itching for a fight.
But right now, the food was piled so high in his throat that he felt it would spill out the moment he opened his mouth. Having grown up in the harsh wilderness, wasting food was an absolute sin in his eyes. When he had forced out the words "admit defeat" just moments ago, he had expended a monumental amount of willpower to swallow back the noodles threatening to escape his lips.
As a result, every ounce of his focus was dedicated to suppressing his gag reflex. He had zero spare energy to care about the itchy stares of the townsfolk. Fortunately, Akira set a brisk pace, swiftly leading him away from the bustling crowd. This simple act actually improved Inosuke's impression of the calm swordsman quite a bit.
"Since you already know my purpose is to take you with us, I'll start by explaining the organization I belong to," Akira said, his voice steady as they left the town's borders and stepped onto the quiet dirt road. He smoothly transitioned into a breakdown of demons and the Demon Slayer Corps.
Inosuke didn't react with much shock at the revelation of flesh-eating monsters. To a boy raised by the mountains, demons just sounded like another type of beast—perhaps a bit harder to kill and slightly more dangerous, but nothing world-shattering.
However, the moment Akira brought up the Breathing Techniques, the boar mask snapped toward him.
"Are you guys... also because of... that... breathing... that you have your current strength?" Inosuke forced the words out intermittently, having to pause mid-sentence to forcefully swallow down a surging wave of digestion.
"Hmm... you could say that," Akira replied, glancing at Gyoumei before giving a slight nod.
Truthfully, Gyoumei possessed the raw physical power to pound a demon into minced meatballs with his bare hands long before he ever learned a Breathing Technique. Still, Stone Breathing played a massive role in his current overwhelming strength.
Inosuke fell silent. He looked like he was deep in thought, but in reality, his entire body was rigid as he fought a desperate internal battle to keep his lunch down.
Finally, through sheer grit, he conquered his stomach. Though he still felt bloated to the point of bursting, the immediate threat of vomiting had passed.
Having achieved this monumental feat, Inosuke immediately declared, "I want to learn that Breathing Technique!"
As for slaying demons, he couldn't care less. From Akira's explanation, he understood they were bad things that ate people and needed to be smashed, but that was the extent of his interest.
Enhancing his own raw power, however? That was something he craved. As the self-proclaimed "King of the Mountain," being forced into submission and becoming someone else's subordinate stung. He accepted his loss fairly, but Inosuke was not the type to abandon his pride.
"Once I learn that breathing thing, I'm definitely gonna challenge you again!" Inosuke pointed a trembling finger at Akira. "Whether it's in a fight or an eating contest, this great one will definitely win it all back!"
"Whatever." Akira merely shrugged, his tone utterly flat against Inosuke's fiery oath.
"Hey! Don't act so indifferent! This great one is seriously issuing a challenge!" Inosuke stomped his foot, growing instantly anxious at the sheer lack of reaction.
Akira calmly reached out and pressed a hand flat against the snout of the boar mask, pushing Inosuke's face back to prevent any stray spit from hitting him. He spoke unhurriedly. "First of all, according to our bet, I am your boss now. Drop the 'this great one' act in front of me."
"Secondly, I have a name. It's Akira. Stop calling me 'Hey'."
"Finally, come back and challenge me once you actually have the strength to back it up. For now, we need to continue our journey."
"Journey..." Inosuke huffed, his competitive spirit flaring despite his bulging stomach. "Do you dare to... to have a running race with m— with me?!"
Akira didn't even dignify the challenge with a verbal response. He just stopped and stared at Inosuke with a look of deep, silent concern. Racing while stuffed to the gills? Akira honestly didn't know what to say to such a suicidal suggestion.
"Hey! Akira! What's with that look?!" Inosuke yelled, his voice echoing from inside the hollowed-out head.
"It means I'm praising you," Akira replied dryly, turning and continuing down the road.
"Do you think I'm stupid?! That look of yours is not what someone looks like when they're praising someone!" Inosuke roared, chasing after him with heavy, sloshing steps.
"Yeah. Correct." Akira glanced back over his shoulder and nodded with a perfectly calm expression.
Beneath the mask, Inosuke's hair practically stood on end. He wanted to swear. He wanted to curse Akira out. But... he hadn't actually learned any curse words yet. So, trapped in his own lack of vocabulary, he just vibrated with raw, inarticulate anger.
Can't beat him. Don't know how to curse at him. I'm tired. Just destroy it all. Destroy this world, Inosuke thought, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Get in the carriage."
While Inosuke was drowning in powerless rage, Akira had already led him to a sturdy wooden carriage parked by the roadside. Halfway through their massive meal, Akira had instructed Ink Shadow to relay a message to the nearby Kakushi to prepare transport.
"Huh? Oh..."
The sudden instruction snapped Inosuke out of his internal meltdown. Before his brain could fully process the command, his body instinctively followed Akira's lead. He climbed up the wooden steps, and by the time he blinked, he was already sitting on the cushioned interior bench.
He had been fine while walking, but the moment his weight settled onto the soft seat, a heavy wave of dizziness washed over him. Thanks to the absurd amount of food he had just inhaled, his body was aggressively focusing on blood flow to his digestive system. His brain was being starved of oxygen, leaving him incredibly drowsy.
A food coma. A perfectly normal physiological phenomenon.
Watching Inosuke sway in his seat, Akira let out a quiet breath. "What a long reflex arc."
Less than a minute later, Inosuke slumped against the wooden wall, fast asleep.
Growing up in the wild, Inosuke possessed an acute sensitivity to malice. He could track the killing intent of enemies from a vast distance. Yet, from the exact moment he met Akira, he hadn't felt a single drop of malice from the man.
So, having silently stamped both Akira and Gyoumei with the label of "good people" in his wild heart, he allowed his guard to drop completely. He slept with total peace of mind.
He seemed to be having a wonderful dream, as soft, silly chuckles occasionally echoed out from within the hollow snout of the boar mask.
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