Inside the Train Cars
Crack… crack…
The skin-crawling sound of freezing spread slowly across the carriage walls.
The dark-red flesh that had been baring its fangs, trying to devour the passengers, was now covered in a thick layer of white frost, its movements sluggish and stiff.
"So cold…"
Asleep, Zenitsu curled into a ball, a snot bubble inflating and shrinking rhythmically.
"Grandpa… don't leave the eel rice outside… it'll freeze…
My teeth… my teeth will crack…"
Another Carriage
Rengoku Kyojuro—who should have been trapped in a dream—suddenly twitched.
His subconscious sensed something terribly wrong.
The nauseating demonic aura was violently clashing with Inosuke's presence.
"Mm…"
Rengoku frowned in his dream.
"Young people these days… they're far too noisy!"
BOOM!
In reality, Rengoku's eyes snapped open.
Those owl-like eyes burned fiercely, without a trace of grogginess—only blazing flames.
"I don't know what's happening!"
In a flash, he drew his blade, so fast only an afterimage remained.
"But—
Allowing demons to run wild under my watch! Even in a dream!
That is my failure!"
Flame Breathing · First Form · Unknowing Fire!
BOOOOM!!
A roaring arc of flame erupted.
With astonishing precision, it instantly erased every tendril in the carriage that was reaching for passengers.
Fire and ice collided, hissing violently as steam burst into the air.
Rengoku laughed heartily, then launched himself upward like a rocket, smashing straight through the roof and onto the top of the train.
On the Roof
Inosuke was half-kneeling, both hands gripping his serrated blades embedded deep into the train's body.
He was continuously forcing cold into the carriages below.
His face was pale, beads of sweat covering his forehead.
His Ice Spirit Physique was powerful—but the train was simply too massive.
Freezing something this large was pure overexertion, bordering on life-draining.
"Damn it… why is this stupid train so long…!"
Inosuke gritted his teeth.
"I'm starving… after this fight, I'm stealing all of Blondie's food."
Just then—
"Young man! Excellent work!"
A booming voice exploded behind him.
Inosuke jumped, nearly swinging his blades backward in reflex.
He turned—and saw Rengoku Kyojuro standing proudly in the wind, flame-patterned cloak billowing, hands on his hips, eyes full of praise.
"Owl-eyed old man?"
Inosuke froze for a second, then relaxed and sheathed his blades.
"You're way too slow. I was about to turn this whole train into a popsicle before you woke up."
"Hahaha! My apologies!"
Rengoku laughed and clapped Inosuke on the shoulder.
"The bento in my dream was simply too delicious! I was delayed a little!"
"But!"
Rengoku's gaze swept across the frozen roof, his smile turning into genuine approval.
"Well done!
If you hadn't frozen the demon's movements, the passengers in the rear cars would likely already be dead!"
"Your judgment was spot on!
You talk like a greedy brat, but your body is honestly protecting everyone!"
"Shut up!"
Inosuke turned his head away, hiding the faint redness on his cheeks.
"Who's protecting anyone?
I'm protecting my underlings! They still owe me money!"
"Hahaha! A classic tsundere youth!"
Rengoku didn't expose him and immediately analyzed the situation.
"Since the train itself has become the demon's body, its weak point must be at the front!
The Kamado boy has already gone ahead, correct?"
"That hard-headed idiot went to cut the neck."
Inosuke pointed toward the engine.
"Excellent!"
Rengoku instantly issued orders—the absolute command of a Hashira.
"Then I will guard all the carriages!"
"You and Kamado will go to the front! Find the neck and sever it!"
"Hah?"
Inosuke scowled.
"Why should I listen to you? I'm the boss—"
"Because I said I'd treat you to a meal."
Rengoku cut him off, completely serious.
"If we fail to protect this train, the bento will be gone!
The lady who sells it will die!
And you'll never eat delicious beef pot bento again!"
Inosuke: "..."
This was an argument that could not be refuted.
For the young master of the Eternal Paradise Cult, cutting off food was worse than killing one's parents.
"I'll listen."
Inosuke tightened his grip on his Nichirin Blade, eyes sharpening.
"But, old man."
Just as Rengoku turned to head for the rear cars, Inosuke suddenly called out.
"Hm?"
Rengoku looked back.
Inosuke stared at this man—still bursting with life now, yet destined in the original story to become a cold corpse in just a few hours.
He thought of Doma.
Of that foolish father.
He thought of Kotoha.
Of that gentle mother.
He hated farewells. Truly hated them.
"Hey, owl."
Inosuke's voice was unusually serious—almost threatening.
"I said it earlier.
Your life is under my custody for now."
"In a bit, a stronger guy might show up."
"That one… is my prey."
He pointed at himself, then at Rengoku.
"Before I strip that bastard of every last coin, you're not allowed to die."
"From now on, I'm your bodyguard."
"Bodyguard fee: one hundred billion gold koban."
"If you die, I'll put that debt on your whole family."
Rengoku froze.
He looked into the boy's emerald eyes, gleaming in the moonlight.
He didn't know who would come.
He didn't know what the future held.
But he understood the boy's clumsy concern.
A foolish, awkward kindness—
a refusal to lose another companion.
"UMM!"
Rengoku broke into a smile as radiant as the sun.
"One hundred billion? That's expensive indeed!"
"Rest assured! I am the Flame Hashira!"
"As long as I stand, no one will die here!"
"Not the passengers—
and not you youngsters either!"
"I'll be right back!"
BOOM!
Rengoku kicked off the roof, turning into a blazing meteor as he shot toward the rear of the train.
That speed—
that presence—
made even Inosuke narrow his eyes.
"Tch… showing off."
Inosuke muttered, though the corner of his mouth lifted unconsciously.
He turned toward the engine.
There, the flesh still writhed, Enmu's tendrils regenerating madly, desperately blocking Tanjiro's advance.
"Alright."
Inosuke rolled his neck, bones cracking.
"Gonpachiro! Hold on!"
"Your boss is coming to back you up!"
Dragging his twin blades across the roof, carving two deep scars into the iron,
Inosuke roared and charged toward the final battlefield.
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