Several days passed.
On Mount Sagiri, Natsunishi had become quite well-acquainted with the three swordsmen of the Water Breathing style.
Sakonji Urokodaki, the Cultivator, always wore a frightening tengu mask, but in reality, he was a meticulous and kind-hearted old man. After agreeing to Natsunishi's request to learn, he showed no signs of perfunctoriness or reservation. The very next day, he took Natsunishi up the mountain to begin a training regimen alongside the two children.
Beyond that, seemingly worried that Natsunishi wouldn't be comfortable, Urokodaki even went down the mountain that first night to buy him a set of bedding from the town.
As for the two boys, Sabito and Giyu—in Natsunishi's eyes, they were rare geniuses.
According to Urokodaki, Sabito hadn't been training for very long, and Giyu's tenure was even shorter. In reality, however, both had already completed the grueling foundation of physical conditioning; they had already mastered the Breathing Style and its accompanying sword forms.
Sabito's strength was significantly higher than Giyu's. According to Urokodaki's estimation, he would likely arrange for Sabito to begin training in "Total Concentration" breathing in a short while.
From Natsunishi's perspective, the current Sabito already possessed the strength to pass the Final Selection. Compared to Natsunishi's former peers, Sabito's attributes and skill levels were much higher. Furthermore, he possessed a steady personality and a highly efficient swordsmanship. His forms were standard, high-impact, and seamlessly connected; his aggressive offensive rhythm gave his Water Breathing a hint of raging billows beneath its usual inclusive nature. He was the type of offensive swordsman who didn't rely on bizarre variations or trick moves, but who also left no major openings.
He was very strong.
Compared to him, Sashiko, who also used Water Breathing, looked like a complete background character—the "Water Breathing Extra."
Giyu's personality, meanwhile, was much more introverted and quiet. Usually, he was solemn and unsmiling, his expression as still as the stagnant water of a deep pool, often making Natsunishi wonder if he was a lost child from the Uchiha clan. He only occasionally showed a smile when Sabito was around.
However, after sharing a few dinners cooked by Natsunishi, he gradually became a bit more familiar with this senior who had suddenly joined them.
Regarding strength, Natsunishi's evaluation of Giyu was more complex. Because he was younger, his attributes were indeed not as high as Sabito's. That was normal. But in terms of comprehension and talent, he gave off a subtle feeling of surpassing Sabito. Every time Urokodaki personally demonstrated a Breathing form, Giyu's skill progress bar would fill nearly fifty percent faster than Sabito's.
It was just inconsistent; often, the progress bar wouldn't budge an inch. Natsunishi wasn't sure if Giyu's mind was wandering, or if it was, as Sabito said, rooted in a hidden "lack of self-confidence."
Fortunately, there was Sabito. Through constant encouragement and private discussions, he ensured that while Giyu's training occasionally stalled, he was never truly left behind.
Giyu's swordsmanship matched his personality: more passive, yet simultaneously colder and more condensed. He often appeared unperturbed, as if merely observing and waiting. Only at the final moment would he rely on his startling intuition and reflexes to strike first by arriving second, swinging the most appropriate sword form to adapt to the situation. He was a swordsman focused on defensive counters.
"Senior, Senior. Senior!"
Sabito's shouts broke Natsunishi's "AFK" (Away From Keyboard) state.
Looking at the training animation which was returning to normal speed, the youth turned his head to look at Sabito, who stood beside him with a complex expression.
"What's wrong?"
Sabito handed over the bento prepared by the Cultivator. "It's already noon, Senior. You've been swinging your sword for four and a half hours straight."
"Oh? Is there a problem?"
"Master said that training with excessive intensity not only fails to achieve the desired effect but actually yields worse results and harms the body." He looked at the bento in his hand. "And I felt that if I didn't interrupt you, Senior, you would have kept training until nightfall."
Natsunishi let his specialized breathing rhythm dissipate.
Steam rose from his body, causing the air to shimmer slightly. This was the honest shape of power and effort—unadorned, unpretentious, simply a silent testament to how far a human body could be tempered.
Picking up a nearby cloth to wipe away his sweat, Natsunishi pondered to himself.
So there's a setting like that? I thought if I maxed out the training time and let the system auto-grind, I'd get the most experience. Turns out there's a mechanic for optimizing training time allocation?
While Natsunishi was thinking, Sabito and Giyu exchanged a look. Simultaneously, they saw a flicker of admiration in each other's eyes.
A morning of high-intensity training was already a massive test of a swordsman's stamina and self-discipline. It was even more impressive considering how Senior Kuguruma stayed completely focused the entire time, his movements barely deforming despite the duration. The key was that the man was like this almost every single day.
Beyond that, it wasn't just the tasks and daily drills assigned by Master Urokodaki; even daily chores like cooking, carrying water, chopping wood, or fishing... he approached everything with this incredibly earnest, utterly focused attitude.
What amazing spirit and perseverance.
Across from them, Natsunishi was still wiping himself down. Sweat flowed like a stream down his well-defined jawline, only to be caught and smeared away by the towel. Under the sunlight, his undulating muscles looked as though they were coated in a layer of flowing, breathing glaze. His back muscles looked like spreading wings, expanding and contracting with his breath; his abdominals resembled tempered armor plates, tense as iron.
No wonder Master Urokodaki had been full of praise for him these past two days.
"This is the manifestation of integrating life and training to the extreme; this child might truly be an extraordinary genius."
At the thought that just two days ago he had felt a bit off-balance because his Master was paying more attention to the newcomer, Giyu felt a wave of shame and self-reproach. Someone like this deserved the Master's high regard; he deserved to become strong.
"Giyu, we'll be as strong as Senior one day."
Perhaps sensing the undercurrent of emotion beneath Giyu's calm exterior, the peach-haired boy gave him an earnest smile. "We are going to be Demon Slayer swordsmen in the future. Seeing a swordsman like Senior Kuguruma should make us feel invigorated. We shouldn't feel overshadowed by his strength; instead, we should work hard to become someone like him."
With that, he patted Giyu on the shoulder.
Natsunishi, having put his clothes back on, watched the two children whispering. He naturally lifted his chin. "Oi—don't just stand there like idiots. Eat, rest for a bit, and this afternoon I want to learn some sword forms from the two of you."
Senior is thinking about getting stronger every waking moment, the two boys thought in unison.
"Say, Senior, your concentration... how exactly do you do it?" Sabito asked curiously. "Even I can't push myself to such an austere level of hard work."
Hard work? Isn't this just a basic function? Natsunishi thought. I just preset the practice routine and let the system take over.
Then he remembered that the people standing there were NPCs in the story, not the players he usually matched with. This game was so realistic it often made him forget it was a game.
"That isn't concentration, Sabito."
"It's 'Flow Circuit Break'."
Sabito blinked. "...Flow... Circuit Break?"
"Exactly." Natsunishi nodded, his gaze becoming profound. "When the mind is extremely focused and enters a state of 'Flow,' ordinary people drop out due to exhaustion. But I am different. At that moment, I actively 'break the circuit' of my own perception of fatigue."
He raised his hand and pointed to his temple, continuing his nonsense.
"Just like using a Breathing Style to forcibly enhance bodily functions, I use a special meditation to temporarily excise distracting thoughts like 'tiredness,' 'boredom,' and 'the passage of time' from my consciousness. My body is still moving, but my 'heart' has entered a state of... absolute emptiness. External time loses its meaning to me."
Sabito listened with his mouth slightly agape, his eyes flashing with shock and realization. "There's actually such a thing... so Senior isn't 'enduring,' but has entered a higher realm of cultivation?"
"You could say that." Natsunishi maintained a solemn expression and nodded slightly.
Beside them, the consistently silent Giyu Tomioka had just been quietly eating his lunch. Hearing this, he nearly choked. He didn't look up, only glancing at Natsunishi with his deep blue eyes. There was no emotion in that gaze, yet it seemed to say everything.
He makes it sound so real.
Then, Giyu lowered his head and continued eating his bento.
He had heard this senior's story from Master Urokodaki. Demons had taken everything from him—his family, his sister. This senior was just like them, burned and driven through countless nights by the flames of hatred. It drove him to grow strong at any cost, strong enough to slaughter every single demon.
It wasn't any "Flow Circuit Break." It was the hatred of revenge.
Underneath that expression that often seemed to be wandering off into another world, there was a suppressed obsession that was likely even more intense than his or Sabito's. At the thought of the scene where his own sister died to protect him, Giyu's eyes and breathing shifted slightly.
He seemed to understand this senior now.
Perhaps for Natsunishi, training wasn't "perseverance." Rather, not training would be "stopping." And for a swordsman who craved revenge above all else, stopping was "death."
To not fight is to die. This was likely the state Senior Kuguruma was in.
Sabito fell into deep thought, digesting Natsunishi's set of "theories." Beside him, Giyu ate his meal, his heart similarly unsettled.
Natsunishi, maintaining a poker face, turned around and opened his bento. It was rice balls made by Urokodaki and a few pieces of fried meat. The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
His theory seemed to have fooled them, right?
But honestly, his explanation served as a pretty good rationalization for the game mechanics.
As expected of me.
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