Thanks to "Pariston" going open source, Roy had the entire airship to himself—three decks, one passenger.
He spent about half an hour sweeping it for risks; when satisfied, he sat cross-legged on a VIP lounge sofa to spend his points, while Gotoh stood guard at the door.
A lazy slap killed a fly that dared buzz into the room.
Crack. The growth limiter snapped; familiar agony rolled through his body.
This time Roy didn't pace himself—he shoved all-in.
He burned all 50 "Life Energy" points at once—grunted, nearly blacked out, and bit his tongue to stay conscious as he watched cells divide in a blur, bones thicken and lengthen, muscle fibers tear and reknit, hair shed and grow—and then—
THUMP—
His heart slammed.
Before the eye, a bigger Roy shrugged off the old shell and took a new skin.
[Notice: Physique +50]
[Name: Roy Zoldyck]
[Physique: 75.7 → 125.7 (avg human = 1)]
[Apparent Aura: D– (170/10000) → D+ (200/10000)
(Note: rated vs. Chimera Ants… elite squad leader = D, division commander = C, royal guards = B, King = B+)]
[Potential Aura: D (236/10000) → D+ (8431/10000) (note: rated vs. Chimera Ants)]
Pop-pop-pop… Roy rolled his neck, stretched—joints crackling like tossed beans, drawing Gotoh's attention.
"Young master—you alright?" the butler asked through the door.
"I'm fine."
Cre-eak. The door opened on a face now sharper, more martial.
Gotoh blinked—stunned. In seconds, the young master had shot up another notch—taller, broader. The tracksuit he wore would need replacing again—taut enough to bulge at the seams.
"Come on. Let's eat." His stomach thundered—he needed fuel.
Roy pretended not to see the shock in Gotoh's eyes and led the way to the dining room.
The young butler followed a step behind, gaze lingering on that broad back, thinking of Silva. Young master… you're growing too fast…
…
Demon Slayer world.
The New Year had been past over a month.
Roy's sword count had stalled at 59,000—ten straight days without a step further.
Though the boy said nothing, Urokodaki, Sabito, Makomo—everyone could feel it: Rōichirō had reached the limit of what someone his age could reach.
Late at night, the boy slept soundly on the warm bed.
In a corner, an oil lamp quietly bloomed. Beneath it, a tengu-masked old man wrote a letter of recommendation.
As a former Water Hashira, it was Urokodaki's duty to report any prodigy he found to his lord—now, head of the Ubuyashiki: Kagaya Ubuyashiki.
Demons grew by the day; one more prodigy meant one more hope.
He lifted the brush, choosing each word with care. Beside him, Makomo drew an icy wind to grind the ink; Sabito leaned on a post; Shinsuke and Fukuda, since being seen, had behaved—nesting in the rafters more often than not.
"Hey, what rank will Master give Rōichirō?" Makomo peered over as Urokodaki paused at the rating line. She whispered to Sabito.
Sabito weighed it. If he applied the current Demon Slayer Corps ranking:
Mizunoto → Mizunoe → Kanoto → Kanoe → Tsuchinoto → Tsuchinoe → Hinoto → Hinoe → Kinoto → Kinoe
"I'd give him Kinoe," the fox-masked boy said. "Below Hinoe has no combat power against demons—just couriers and logistics. Hinoe and above can back up Hashira a bit. Kinoto can solo ordinary demons but not the Moons… and Rōichirō…"
He opened his eyes, looking at the sleeping boy. "At my peak, if I met him, he'd one-shot me. By strength and potential, he can solo the Lower Moons Giyu spoke of. Kinoe—Hashira Candidate—is no problem."
"Master actually wrote Kinoe for Rōichirō~" Makomo giggled as the wind scrawled a line on the table.
She stuck her tongue out at Sabito. He only smiled—what's decided is decided.
Urokodaki chuckled and looked to the side—he knew she was there. "And you? Kinoe or not?"
"I'll go with Master~" She didn't think at all—another line appeared, complete with a cheeky tongue-out doodle.
"Heh." He nodded and wrote a big 甲Kinoe—then added Upper: Kinoe-Upper.
He hesitated, then added a note:
"Let lord know: if any shall one day kill Kibutsuji Muzan, it will be my student—Kamado Rōichirō."
"With much unsaid…"
"Night of March 12th—Urokodaki Sakonji."
He lifted the brush, blew the ink dry. The last line glowed in the lamplight, clear as day.
Sabito and Makomo traded a look—surprised. They had underestimated the boy's place in their master's heart.
Makomo turned stiffly. "What rank was Giyu-nii?"
Sabito paused. "Kinoto."
Whssh— Early spring; Sagiri's snow not yet gone. The paper windows rattled in the wind; the room fell quiet.
Letter done, Urokodaki slid the window open to let the crow perch. He tucked the letter and Roy's training logs into a bamboo tube and tied it to the bird's leg, then set it free.
Caw— It dropped a black feather and arrowed into the woods.
Days later, it circled above the Ubuyashiki estate.
It was noon. In the main hall a "Hashira meeting" had gathered—Upper Three Akaza's trail found—to plot a hunt. A crow's cry cut the air.
Kagaya lifted an arm; the bird landed. He drew the letter and read. At the end, his pupils trembled; his eyes slid, unreadable, to Giyu Tomioka, kneeling below.
He paused the meeting.
Nine Hashira glanced up in surprise. The Stone Hashira Himejima Gyōmei spoke: "My lord—what has happened?"
Kagaya was silent a long moment. Then he beckoned. "Giyu—read it to all."
"Yes."
~~~
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