After organizing his remaining memories, Tatsumi filled page after page in his notebook.
Having lived over ten years in this world, some memories were fuzzy, but he recalled most of the plot and demon data.
Satisfied, he summoned the system.
"System! Travel to the world of Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba!"
[World coordinates locked… Anchor established… Energy transferring… Dimensional travel initiated…]
A dazzling white light burst forth like a singularity. Tatsumi squinted as the light enveloped him—not illuminating the room, but wrapping his body instead.
The white glow turned blue and slowly faded into the air.
---
When he opened his eyes again, he was in another world.
As color returned to the once-gray surroundings, Tatsumi marveled at the system's power.
Even without fancy plug-ins, experiencing dimensional travel firsthand was thrilling.
"First… pause time in the original world."
[Original world time flow paused.]
A progress bar filled instantly before his eyes.
He turned his gaze to the new environment—trees, dirt road, faint wheel tracks.
"Daytime… a road… wagon tracks—so, carriages."
Good news. Demons couldn't move in daylight, and the road meant nearby villages or towns—a safe start.
After confirming his sword and gear were intact, he followed the tracks at a run.
After about an hour, he reached a small village.
It was nearly noon, and the air was filled with the warmth of daily life—rising smoke, the smell of cooked food, and the chatter of people.
Villagers walked by carrying meat, vegetables, or buckets, while small stalls lined the roadside.
As Tatsumi approached, though, people began staring at him in fear.
A glance around told him why.
They weren't afraid of him—
They were afraid of the weapon on his back.
"This might be a little troublesome…"
Looking at the long sword strapped to his back, Tatsumi sighed helplessly. The damned system didn't even come with an inventory space—otherwise, he could've just stored all his luggage and weapons inside.
"You there, young man! Over here!"
Hearing someone call out, Tatsumi turned his head curiously. A short-haired man in a traditional Japanese yukata was waving at him.
"Is he… calling me?"
Though confused, he walked over.
After all, the other villagers had fled at the mere sight of his weapon. Since someone was actually talking to him, he could use this chance to learn where and when he was.
"Young man! You must be a demon slayer, right?"
"I noticed your weapon isn't like the swords samurai use, and your clothing looks like it's from the city…"
The man spoke hesitantly, unsure.
He didn't realize how strange it sounded to ask that outright.
The Demon Slayer Corps wasn't officially recognized by the government, so ordinary civilians shouldn't even know of its existence.
Still, this frail man—someone Tatsumi could probably subdue with one hand—was staring intently at the sword on his back, waiting for an answer.
At the collar of his yukata, Tatsumi noticed a small embroidered wisteria flower, with the character "藤" (fuji) at its center.
The wisteria crest—famous throughout this world.
That confirmed it. This man must be one of those villagers protected by the Demon Slayer Corps, who offered aid in return.
"Sir?"
Seeing the man's puzzled expression, Tatsumi thought for a moment. Since he had come here to learn the Breathing Techniques anyway, it wouldn't hurt to nod.
After all, he would become part of the Corps eventually—no harm in borrowing the title early.
"I see… despite your long journey, you still fight demons. I truly admire your courage! Please, follow me!"
"Ah, thank you."
"Not at all!"
The man gave an awkward laugh, but Tatsumi could tell his gratitude was genuine.
Following him through the village, they soon arrived at a larger house that stood out among the simpler ones.
The wooden gates, courtyard, and sliding doors all bore the same wisteria patterns.
Even the garden was lined with blooming wisteria trees.
"I'll prepare a meal for you, please wait a moment in the guest room."
Tatsumi nodded, sitting down slowly.
Looking out at the garden, he couldn't help but feel the surreal sensation of crossing worlds yet again.
Before long, the man returned with a tray of food.
"And that person behind you is…?"
"Oh! That's my little sister, Kuriko."
Tatsumi smiled faintly. The man set down the meal and sat across the small table.
"Kuriko, greet our guest properly—don't be rude."
He gently patted her head.
"Uh… g-good afternoon, sir…"
"Just call me Brother Tatsumi!"
The bright smile on Tatsumi's face stunned the little girl for a moment, but she eventually nodded.
"Brother Tatsumi… n-nice to meet you… I'm Kusakabe Kuriko…"
"Nice to meet you too, little Kuriko."
The man smiled apologetically.
"My name is Kusakabe Matsuko. Forgive my sister—she's a bit shy."
"No worries. I'd say Kuriko's really cute—like a little doll."
The man scratched his head bashfully, clearly happy at the compliment.
That broke the ice, and the two men chatted comfortably.
Time passed peacefully—simple food, simple conversation—but Tatsumi found the quiet company strangely satisfying.
By dusk, however, their house received a group of new visitors.