With the mission completed, Shinjuro Rengoku led the two youngsters away from Hachijō Island. He reported everything that had happened during the mission to the Master in a letter, who gladly accepted the new recruit.
On the way back to headquarters, he also gave Obanai some swordsmanship guidance and physical training.
Two weeks later, the trio arrived at the outskirts of the capital.
"I want real food—hot, delicious meals, not dry rations!" Tendo hadn't eaten for three whole hours, his stomach growling loudly. He could only blame his terrible constitution.
"Obanai, do you have any food left?" he asked, looking at Obanai with hopeful eyes.
Obanai had already wrapped his lower face with bandages. He shot Tendo a disdainful glance—his sharp tongue had awakened after they'd grown familiar with each other.
"Tendo, you're such a glutton. You've already finished all my rations, idiot!"
Despite his harsh words, he pulled out his last piece of dried food from his pocket. Having been imprisoned in a dungeon for years, he'd developed a habit of hoarding provisions.
This was truly his last ration—something Obanai wouldn't have shared unless absolutely necessary.
But for Tendo, he was happy to give it.
Tendo snatched the food like a starving ghost, devouring it in three bites, nearly moved to tears.
"Mmm!"
"So tasty! Obanai, you're the best!"
Hearing this, Obanai turned his head away. The bandages hid his smile as he muttered quietly:
"We're not that close, glutton."
"Boys, there's a town up ahead!"
"Finally, we can feast properly, hahaha!"
Shinjuro Rengoku pointed excitedly into the distance. After nearly two weeks of living like savages, a town meant delicious food, and delicious food meant happiness.
"Old man, really?"
Tendo had somehow appeared beside Shinjuro. Standing shoulder to shoulder, both had stars in their eyes, imagining all kinds of delicacies floating around them, drooling uncontrollably.
In the blink of an eye, only lingering dust remained on the road—the two had already sprinted off.
"Food!"
"Food!"
"Delicious!"
"Delicious!"The slogan-like shouts flew into Obanai's ears from a distance, causing the corner of his mouth to twitch slightly. It seemed he couldn't quite accept the absurd scene before him.
After all, these two were each stronger than the other—both beyond his own capabilities.
"Sigh!"
"Is the Demon Slayer Corps supposed to be a serious organization?"
Obanai let out a long sigh, stroking Kaburamaru's head as he walked toward the town.
A short while later, he spotted the voracious duo in front of a restaurant.
Shinjuro Rengoku had a stack of seven empty bowls beside him. But when Obanai's gaze shifted to Tendo, his worldview shattered.
A towering mountain of forty-five bowls stood piled high, an insurmountable peak of consumed food.
"Boss, another bowl—money's no issue!"
Tendo pushed an empty bowl aside and called out to the shopkeeper with unfulfilled enthusiasm.
Every eye in the restaurant was fixed on their table—after all, people who could eat this much were a rare sight.
Noticing Obanai, Tendo greeted him with a smile and amended his order, "Boss, make it two bowls! My friend's here!"
The moment he spoke, the diners' attention shifted to Obanai. If he was friends with this bottomless pit of a young man, surely he must be someone extraordinary too.
Obanai shot Tendo a resentful glare. Thankfully, he'd hidden Kaburamaru in his clothes beforehand—otherwise, they might have been kicked out.
What normal person walked around with a snake coiled around their neck?
He took a seat opposite Tendo, the pair forming a perfect contrast—one grinning broadly, the other thoroughly displeased.
"Young men, I've discovered there's a Wisteria House in this town. We can rest there after eating!" Rengoku proposed.
"What's a Wisteria House?" Obanai asked, his face full of confusion. Once again, he felt out of sync with these two.
Tendo swallowed his mouthful of rice and explained, "It's short for a house marked with wisteria crests."
"Established by people the Demon Slayer Corps has helped in the past, they mark their homes with special wisteria patterns and provide free assistance to Corps members. They serve as resting points for us during our missions."
"Hmm." Obanai nodded, loosening a section of his bandages to eat at a leisurely pace.
After their hearty meal, the trio headed to the Wisteria House to rest.
As evening fell, Obanai continued pestering Shinjuro Rengoku for swordsmanship lessons. Eager to mentor motivated juniors—especially talented ones—Rengoku was more than willing to teach.
Though Flame Breathing wasn't perfectly suited for Obanai, basic sword techniques could still be imparted.
Meanwhile, Tendo—whom Obanai viewed as "gluttonous and lazy"—had long since wandered off to who-knows-where.
The town had electricity now, and as darkness fell, dim yellow streetlights flickered on.
Food stalls still dotted the roadside sporadically. Though not bustling, they exuded a warm, homely atmosphere.
"Boss, I'll take all your tri-color dango!"
Tendo suddenly appeared before a stall, slapping money onto the counter and startling the vendor.
"Y-young master, just a moment!" The stall owner forced a smile, though his hands trembled slightly. After all, this person carried a sword—even if he was just a youth, it was frightening.
"Don't be nervous, boss. I'm one of the good guys!" Tendo explained with complete seriousness.
"O-of course!"
The vendor nodded repeatedly. The government's sword ban had been in place for years—who still carried blades unless they were trouble?
Suddenly, someone in coarse cloth bumped straight into Tendo's chest.
Due to years of practicing swordsmanship, his stance was unusually stable, and he ended up knocking the other person over.
Just as he was about to check on the person he had bumped into, a nimble figure darted past him and ran off without looking back.
Shortly after, angry shouts could be heard not far away. Tendo turned toward the noise and saw three menacing-looking men.
"Damn it, stop right there!"
"When are you going to pay back the money you owe?"
"If you don't pay up soon, we'll sell you off!"
"Hey, kid, don't stare! You don't want to get involved!" the shopkeeper hurriedly warned. "Those guys have connections—even the government turns a blind eye!"
"Got it!"
Tendo averted his gaze. He just wanted to eat something, not get into a fight.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the fleeing figure. From the back, it looked like a young girl, clutching a wrapped bundle of medicinal herbs as she ran swiftly.
Soon, the slender figure in coarse clothing disappeared into an alley.
"Shinobu Kocho, stop right there!"
"Don't let me catch you, or I'll beat you to death!"
"And your sister—don't think we won't lay a hand on you just because you two know some medicine!"
"Damn it, stop!"
The leader, realizing he couldn't catch up, began hurling threats but didn't give up the chase.
Hearing the shouts, Tendo stiffened. He thought he'd heard an all-too-familiar name.
Shinobu Kocho!
Did that guy just say Shinobu Kocho?
He definitely said Shinobu Kocho!
"Kid, your dango is ready!"
"Boss, just wait a second!"
Seeing the young man staring intently at the three thugs, the shopkeeper grew anxious.
Didn't we agree not to meddle in other people's business?
The shopkeeper wanted to stop him, but it was too late—Tendo Kazama was already behind the thugs.