Drake immediately forced himself to play dumb.
He blinked innocently and asked, "Sensei, who's this?"
Urokodaki didn't waste words. "He will be training under me from now on."
The boy stepped forward, polite and earnest as always.
"I'm Kamado Tanjiro," he introduced himself with a slight bow and extended his hand.
Drake took it with a friendly grip. "Drake. Drake Curtis. Let's get along well."
Tanjiro tilted his head. "That's… a very unusual name."
Drake scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Yeah, well… I'm from a far away—"
SLAP!
Urokodaki smacked the back of Drake's head with the precision of someone who had done it many times before.
"HEY! What was that for?!" Drake snapped, rubbing the spot.
Urokodaki answered calmly.
"You mistimed your breathing by half a second in the First Form. And in the Second Form, your stance was too wide."
Drake paused.
Images of the fight replayed in his mind instantly—like his brain had become a perfect recorder.
He could see every detail, every breath, every movement.
'He's right… my inhale was three instants too early, which slowed the end of the slash… and my stance in the Water Wheel was wider by two inches, increasing drag—'
He stopped mid-thought.
'Hold on—when did I start analyzing like THIS?'
His eyes widened slightly.
'Sword Genius… this must be the Trait kicking in.'
He barely finished thinking when—
SMACK!
Urokodaki hit him again.
"Stop dazing off," the masked instructor ordered.
Drake groaned.
Tanjiro blinked in concern.
...
They returned to Urokodaki's house, and the moment Drake stepped inside… he saw her.
His angel.
Nezuko.
She lay on the futon, wrapped in a simple blanket. Her skin was porcelain-pale, her long black hair cascading around her like ink, ending in soft orange tips. The bamboo muzzle rested gently against her lips, and even while asleep, her face looked serene—almost doll-like. In the anime she often shrank herself down, but this… this was her true demon form. She was his age and she was undeniably beautiful.
[Image Here]
Drake froze. Stared. And then stared harder.
Her curves were impossible to ignore. Even with the blanket covering her, the outline of her chest was… magnificent. Perfect, actually. Drake's brain immediately shut down and rebooted into pure degeneracy mode.
And then—
WHAM!
A brutal kick smashed into his stomach, launching him backward like a ragdoll.
He hit the floor, groaning.
Urokodaki lowered his leg and sighed. "I suspected as much… but you're even more perverted than I thought. Truly disgraceful. You grow more disgusting by the hour, you realize that?" he said—though a faint warmth softened the scolding.
Tanjiro jumped in front of Nezuko protectively, forming an X with his arms. "My sister is off limits! Absolutely not!"
Drake coughed, stood up, and casually brushed a hand through his red hair. Somehow, he still managed to strike a smug pose.
"Why not, Tanjiro? Wouldn't you be happy to marry your sister off to someone as undeniably handsome as me?"
Tanjiro stared at him, mouth open. Isthis guy actually serious?
Urokodaki didn't hesitate. BONK! Another strike—this time to the head.
"Did killing that demon inflate your ego beyond repair?"
Drake chuckled as he pushed himself up again. His grin didn't fade for even a second.
Because honestly?
Yes.
It had gone to his head.
His talent for the sword was now unrivaled in this world. If Muichiro had become a Hashira in two months… then how long would someone like Drake take?
With greater talent than even the prodigy Mist Hashira…
Maybe less than two months.
Maybe far less.
...
Three weeks passed.
[Name: Drake Curtis]
[Age: 16]
[Gender: Male]
[Race: Human]
[Class: Thief (Ordinary)]
[Stats:
Strength: 79 (72) (F)
Agility: 81 (74) (F)
Vitality: 75 (68) (F)
Intelligence: 7 (6) (F)
Charm: 45 (41) (F)
Luck: 55 (50) (F)]
[Active Skills: Pick Lock (Lv. 62), Slap (Lv. 41), Backstab (Lv. 93), Swat (Lv. 45), Stealth Walk (Lv. 28), Shatter (Lv. 21), Widow Maker (Lv. 14), Water Breathing (Lv. 55)]
[Passive Skills: Sword Mastery (Lv. MAX), Heightened Senses (Lv. 51)]
[Traits: Sword Genius (Epic), Sun Descendance (Epic), Sweet Lips (Rare)]
Drake stared at his status window and grinned like a lunatic.
Sword Genius and Sun Descendance were straight-up broken.
Sun Descendance didn't just give him a flat ten percent boost to all stats—there was a hidden effect: his stats even grew faster. But even that wasn't the main reason for his progress.
Practicing while using Water Breathing constantly flooded his muscles with oxygen, letting him train harder, longer, and recover faster. His growth skyrocketed.
And thanks to Sword Genius, Water Breathing had become an active skill after only a few attempts.
[Water Breathing]
[Lv. 55 — EXP: 7,930 / 83,270]
[Synchronize your breath with the flow of water and unleash sword strikes that move like crashing waves.]
Each level made him stronger, faster, smoother—closer to the ideal form. Urokodaki's own mastery, Drake estimated, would sit around level 75–80… maybe 85 at absolute peak.
At his current rate, he needed around another three weeks to match it.
But that wasn't all.
[Sword Mastery]
[Lv. MAX]
[Your mastery of the sword has reached the pinnacle.
+150% Power, Speed, and Precision to all sword techniques.
(Base 50% + applied Sword Genius bonus: 100%)]
With this, his strikes were comparable to Urokodaki's.
Drake exhaled slowly.
'I really did get too strong… it almost feels wrong.'
Not that he hated it. Power was survival.
Still, curiosity poked at him.
'System… am I more talented than Yoriichi now? You said my sword talent is unmatched.'
A cold reply came instantly.
[No, host. In raw sword talent, you are close. Yoriichi remains slightly superior.]
'Huh? Then why call me unmatched?'
[Because the trait only compares you to current swordsmen. Past figures like Yoriichi are not counted.]
[You and Yoriichi are similar only in sword talent. His overall natural gifts far exceed yours. He was born with a Demon Slayer Mark and enhanced physical ability. If your talent is unmatched in this world, his is equivalent to a god reincarnated.]
Drake stared at the message.
'If you put it like that...'
[Time Ratio — 75:1]
His time ratio had increased again. Once all of his main stats passed 50, his "multiversal presence" evolved—making him as important as a brand-new aluminum can.
It bumped his Luck up to 50 automatically as well.
It was night, and Drake continued swinging his blade without rest. He didn't even bother worrying about demons—any that got close would get shredded instantly.
By his calculations, the first eight days in this world equaled about four hours in his original world… and the other twelve days equaled another four hours because of the increase of the time ratio. So only eight hours total had passed back home.
Which meant he'd basically slept a full night.
So… it was time to return.
Then a thought hit him.
"System… how do I age?"
If this kept going, a few weeks in his original world might equal years of training here. At this rate, he could become a grown man while only months passed back home.
The answer he received was not reassuring.
[That is an issue you must solve yourself, host.]
Drake's jaw dropped.
'I have to solve it? HOW?!'
Possible solutions flashed through his mind.
'Maybe… become a demon?'
But the idea didn't sit right with him—not at all.
He ruffled his hair in frustration.
"…I'll figure it out later," he muttered. "For now, just send me back."
The world around him shimmered—
And Drake dematerialized.
To be continued...
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