Seeing the look on Natsuo's face that clearly said, "Sensei, are you sure you can do this," Kazami's forehead bulged with a few angry veins.
"You brat…"
"I've used Wind Breathing ever since I was young, so of course I don't understand the exact process those derivative-breathing swordsmen use to develop their styles."
"But it shouldn't be that complicated."
"Probably…"
"Just taking the basic training methods of the Five Great Breathing Styles, removing some parts, and adding some parts."
Natsuo stared at him.
That was basically saying nothing.
And could you sound any less confident while saying it?
Even taking a step back, even as a player, Natsuo knew the truth.
If you started mixing skills and altering parameters before you truly understood the underlying mechanics, you were asking for trouble.
Breathing styles that had been refined through centuries of real combat and passed down by countless predecessors might not be the absolute strongest in raw potential.
But their stability and reliability were on a completely different level from some genius's impulsive "modified version."
If he messed around without understanding, the short-term result might feel smoother, sure.
But long-term, and in terms of ceiling, it could easily be worse.
It could even weaken the style.
And this game was frighteningly realistic.
If he screwed it up, it might not just be "inefficient."
He might actually ruin his build.
Kazami cleared his throat.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Still, I do know someone."
"His strength is above mine, and his breathing style was created by him."
Natsuo's eyes lit up.
"Please tell me."
"Igarashi Yusen."
Natsuo blinked, completely blank.
"Who?"
Kazami bonked him on the forehead.
"Idiot. You don't even recognize your own senior brother?"
"Haven't I told you plenty of times?"
"The current Storm Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps was trained by me!"
"By generation, he's your senior brother."
Natsuo held his reddening forehead, feeling slightly guilty.
Maybe, possibly, there was a chance he had skipped that dialogue every time Kazami brought it up.
"So my senior brother's breathing style comes from one of the Five Great Styles?"
"That's right," Kazami said, still annoyed. "According to him, his Storm Breathing was improved from Wind Breathing. He added adjustments that matched his understanding and his body."
Natsuo immediately followed up.
"Then do I have to use Wind Breathing as the base if I want to create a derivative style?"
Kazami's eyes widened.
"Huh?"
"Honestly, I want to learn other breathing styles too, just to see which one suits me better."
"If possible, maybe I could even fuse them and make some five-elements-unified breathing or something."
Bonk.
Another forehead strike. Kazami's mustache practically lifted off his face.
"You really think you're clever?"
"Do you not understand the saying, 'Chasing two rabbits means you catch neither'?"
"One breathing style alone is something a swordsman spends their entire life climbing like a mountain."
"And you want two?"
"Do you think you have that kind of time?"
Natsuo froze.
He did, though. He could just allocate points.
And he never said he was going to master every style to a high level.
He only wanted to reach Level 0, unlock the system skill, and check compatibility.
That was all.
When Natsuo didn't immediately agree, Kazami finally let out a long sigh.
He understood his disciple.
Stubborn to the bone.
"Fine," Kazami said. "The Demon Slayer Corps has no rule that a swordsman must practice only one breathing style."
"I'll write you some letters of introduction."
"During the gaps between missions, you can visit them one by one."
Natsuo raised both hands defensively.
"Sensei, I'm just trying to learn from others. I'm not betraying my school."
"Don't talk back."
"You're talking about betraying your school now? Are you asking for another beating?"
Natsuo covered his forehead and scrambled away. Only then did Kazami lower the hand he'd lifted.
"I have some connections within the Corps."
"Tell me which breathing styles you want to learn, and I'll write the letters."
Natsuo muttered carefully, testing the water.
"Can I pick all of them?"
Kazami's eyes turned sharp.
"What did you say?"
Even if this brat was talented and hardworking, wasn't his greed getting a bit out of hand?
After a brief scene of chaos, Kazami finally stormed off to write the letters.
In truth, even if Kazami couldn't introduce him to stronger swordsmen, Natsuo still had a backup plan.
The fellow candidates from the Final Selection had enough coverage across the five breathing styles.
If he needed to, he could ask them later.
It would just be slower.
Watching demonstrations didn't always trigger the system's learning judgment.
And even when it did, the progress gained was tiny.
Based on how fast things advanced back then, his learning speed was only about one-fifth of what it had been when he first learned Wind Breathing.
The system probably judged that you gained far less from inexperienced rookies than from an actual trainer like Kazami.
After Kazami left, Natsuo didn't slack off.
He cleaned up the dishes, then immediately continued his grand plan of grinding life skills.
…
By evening, Kazami returned to the training hall with five letters in hand, only to freeze in the doorway.
Had this place been renovated?
The floor was spotless.
Tools were organized.
Even the dust in the corners by the windows had been wiped clean.
From the kitchen, a strong flame crackled, and the rich scent of stewed meat drifted out, aggressively tempting.
Outside the door, several bundles of chopped firewood were stacked in neat lines.
Even the vegetable patch Kazami hadn't had time to tend that morning had been loosened, watered thoroughly, and cleaned up.
Kazami blinked.
Then blinked again.
He stared at Natsuo in the kitchen.
Apron tied around his waist, movements smooth as he worked the spatula.
After a trip out, how did this kid become so diligent?
Not long after, dinner was set on the low table by the hearth.
Wild Game and Vegetable Braised Pork Bone Hotpot
Pan-Seared Salmon Belly
Sea-Flavored Pork Bone Miso Soup
It was absurdly lavish.
Where did this brat even get pork and salmon?
Kazami lifted his wooden bowl and took a careful sip.
"Unexpectedly delicious…"
He looked up at his disciple, who was staring into the fire as if lost in thought again. The wrinkles by Kazami's eyes relaxed.
He nodded with genuine satisfaction.
"You brat. With cooking like this, you'll definitely marry a good woman someday."
Natsuo looked up, confused.
"Huh?"
He had been checking his life skills.
LV2 Physical Training, Cooking, Running
LV1 Basic Swing Practice, Camping, Fishing, Woodcutting
LV0 Gathering, Cleaning, Farming
Achievement Points: 8
Wind Breathing LV3 (427/2000)
Honestly, he hadn't expected Cooking to hit Level 2 faster than Running.
After the meal, Kazami handed him several letters.
Five, in total.
To Sakonji
To Daimon Matsuyama
To Mei Nikaido
To Shinjuro
To Yusen Igarashi
"Four senior swordsmen of the other breathing styles, and your senior brother's," Kazami said, expression complicated as he rubbed Natsuo's head. "Brat. Looks like you're planning to walk a ridiculous path."
"Leave tomorrow."
"Start by visiting Sakonji in Sagiri Mountain. Water Breathing is the most accommodating style."
"I'll also write to the leader to explain things."
"Maybe before your missions and uniform even arrive, you'll already be able to step into Water Breathing."
Seeing Natsuo space out again, Kazami increased the pressure and vigorously messed up his hair.
"When you meet those seniors, be polite. Stop daydreaming all the time."
"And if anything happens on the road…"
"Write to me or your senior brother."
"We'll find a way to help."
Natsuo nodded, still a little slow.
Kazami sighed in resignation.
"Use your head, and watch your safety."
Natsuo answered obediently.
"Got it, Sensei."
(End of Chapter)
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