But the disaster was far from over…
"Inosuke-kun! Are you alright?!"
Two figures followed closely behind, leaping in through the gaping hole that had just been blasted open by Inosuke and Gyokko's fight.
Tanjiro gripped his Nichirin Blade tightly, the makeup on his forehead smeared by sweat.
His gaze was resolute as he stared straight at the monster crawling out of the pot.
"I smell an incredibly strong stench of evil!
It's even worse than the tempura Inosuke-kun stuffed into Zenitsu-kun's bag and forgot about for ages!"
"Huh?
When did that happen?
So this is an Upper Rank? It's so gross! Seriously disgusting!"
Agatsuma Zenitsu froze for a moment, then his face twisted in pure revulsion.
Under the firelight, the blush on his cheeks looked especially ridiculous, but his hand was clenched tight around his sword hilt.
At this moment—
On the left stood Uzui Tengen, murderous intent overflowing, flamboyant to an absurd degree.
On the right was Rengoku Kyojuro, currently the hottest name in Yoshiwara.
Behind them were two juniors ready to spring into action.
And in the middle stood a pig-headed youth holding twin blades, wearing a sinister grin.
Surrounded dead center, Gyokko froze.
"Hee… hee-shu?"
He counted.
One, two, three, four… five.
Two Hashira, two kids who clearly weren't weak, and one of his own side.
"Wait… no…"
Gyokko turned to Inosuke, his voice trembling with disbelief, almost crying.
"Kid… is this what you meant by a performance?
The script's wrong, isn't it?!"
"And who the hell is that red-clothed cross-dressing freak?!
Why is he even here in such a serious scene?!"
Faced with Gyokko's accusations, Inosuke showed not the slightest hint of guilt. Instead, he arrogantly hoisted both blades onto his shoulders, his purple kimono snapping loudly in the wind.
"Enough nonsense! This is exactly how I planned it!"
He gestured at their surroundings, his multicolored eyes glittering with intelligence.
"Five against one—this is called righteous group justice!
So, Master Pot?
Do you feel your artistic soul trembling?
Do you feel inspiration about to explode?"
"Explode my ass!"
Gyokko shrieked, several tiny hands flailing wildly.
"I'm done! I'm going home!"
With that, he tried to retreat back into his pot, preparing to activate his Blood Demon Art and escape.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Rengoku Kyojuro roared, raising his blade to cut off Gyokko's escape.
"Umu! Evil demon! You will not flee!"
"Wait!"
Inosuke suddenly stepped in front of Rengoku, blade held crosswise.
"Stand back! Owl-head! And you with the diamonds! And… Kwonhachiro Pattern-itsu!"
"This crappy pot… is mine."
"Huh?"
Uzui Tengen frowned.
"What nonsense are you spouting? That's an Upper Rank!
Don't show off! That's not flashy!"
"I'm not showing off."
Inosuke glanced back at Uzui, giving him a you know what I mean look.
Then he turned toward Gyokko and, extremely discreetly—almost playfully—
winked his left eye.
In that instant, the same gesture was interpreted in completely different ways inside two minds.
Cross-server communication achieved once again.
Uzui Tengen's thoughts:
"Pretty pig-brat seems to have another tactical plan.
Could it be my wives are still in that ugly thing's hands?
Better hold back for now."
Gyokko's thoughts:
"Oh! Ohhh! I get it now!
He's saving me! He wants to pretend to duel me one-on-one to drive off those two terrifying Hashira!
Then he'll deliberately go easy, create chaos, and give me a chance to escape!
As expected of Lord Doma's son—such loyalty!!"
Gyokko calmed down instantly. He felt like he was back in control.
"Hee-shu, hee-shu!"
He crawled out of the pot again, striking a profound grandmaster pose, the tiny hands clasped behind his back.
"Since you're so eager to witness my art, I'll indulge you!
No one else is allowed to interfere!
This is a duel between artists!
Anyone who interferes is an uncultured peasant who doesn't understand art!"
Rengoku Kyojuro watched the scene. Though it felt strange, he still sheathed his blade.
"Umu! If the boy has resolved himself thus!
Then as elders, we shall stand by and observe!
This is a man's duel! Uzui—do not intervene!"
"Tch."
Uzui Tengen clicked his tongue, putting away his swords and leaning against a broken wall.
"Fine. If you die, I'll hold a very flashy memorial for you, you unflashy idiot."
The battlefield was instantly cleared, leaving only Inosuke and Gyokko.
"Come on, kid!"
Gyokko waved his little hands theatrically, even deliberately slowing his movements.
"I'll give you a proper reception!"
Inosuke took a deep breath.
The Special Constitution Fusion Agent he'd just consumed was raging through his body.
The sensation was strange—like warm sunlight in winter, or an air-conditioned room in summer.
The blazing heat of Sun Breathing and the biting chill of Ice Breathing were perfectly merging within him.
He looked at Gyokko.
He knew this demon's past well—twisted even as a human, obsessed with stitching animal corpses together, even murdering village children to turn them into "art."
A piece of rotten filth born without any reverence for life, treating existence itself as a toy.
"Hey, Master Pot."
Inosuke's voice suddenly dropped, carrying a lofty contempt he'd learned from Doma himself.
"Did you know?
In the Paradise Faith, my dad may be an emotionless pervert,
but he's never stooped to that kind of low-grade hobby of stitching corpses together.
And Kotoha hates filthy things like that the most."
"Your art…"
"…is revolting."
Before the words fully settled—
Boom!
The rubble beneath Inosuke's feet exploded. His body turned into a streak of light, so fast that even Uzui Tengen's pupils contracted.
Rin-Nichi Breathing
Fourth Form: Solar Mirage—Ice Chariot!
No probing.
No holding back.
Inosuke spun at extreme speed in midair, twin blades carving out rings of blue-and-gold ripples.
"Hee-shu?!"
Gyokko was dumbfounded.
This wasn't the script!
Weren't we acting?!
This killing intent was real! What was going on?!
…But as expected of the Young Master—what incredible acting!
Gyokko praised him madly in his heart, yet still didn't dare lower his guard. Even if it was an act, getting cut would still hurt.
"Blood Demon Art: Octopus Pot Hell!"
Tentacles burst from the pot, trying to block the frenzied slashes.
SHRRK!
The incredibly tough tentacles froze brittle the instant they touched the blades—then shattered under searing heat in the next heartbeat!
But an Upper Rank was still an Upper Rank.
Though his tentacles were severed, Gyokko twisted his slippery pot body at an absurd angle, barely avoiding the fatal strike.
CLANG!
Inosuke's blade smashed into the pot's impossibly hard surface, sparks flying everywhere.
"So hard!"
Inosuke's palm went numb. This pot was absurdly tough!
"Too close!"
Gyokko broke out in a cold sweat.
"This kid doesn't know how to hold back at all!
He almost cracked my masterpiece pot! This is my proudest work!"
"But… this feeling of going all out…
This expression of wanting to kill me yet being unable to…"
Gyokko stared at Inosuke's face, twisted ferociously from overexertion.
"Wonderful! This is art! This is the struggle I want to see!
To match this performance, I must also show some real skill!"
"Blood Demon Art: Thousand Needles—Fish Slaughter!"
Gyokko stopped holding back. Countless grotesque fish, dripping with poison, shot out like a torrential storm.
"Damn it!"
Inosuke cursed and retreated rapidly.
Why did this guy suddenly get serious?!
The density of this attack made even him, with his new Breathing style, feel his scalp tingle.
Rin-Nichi Breathing
Second Form: Azure Sky—Ice-Flame Wild Dance!
His twin blades spun into circles, weaving a dense, impenetrable net that shattered the poisonous fish one by one.
In an instant, ice shards and firelight filled the ruins, explosions roaring nonstop.
The two actually fought evenly, neither able to gain the upper hand.
"Umu! Inoko boy's strength has improved to such a degree!"
Rengoku Kyojuro watched without blinking, shouting his praise.
"To wield ice and fire simultaneously—such swordsmanship is unheard of!
Magnificent!"
"He really does have something going on."
Uzui Tengen rubbed his chin.
"Still pretty savage in his movements, but that destructive power…
He's already touching the threshold of a Hashira."
Only Zenitsu hid behind Tanjiro, shivering.
"Am I the only one who thinks that pot is terrifying?!
He's smiling! The mouth growing out of his eye is smiling!
Is he enjoying getting chopped?!
He's a pervert! Absolutely a pervert!"
In the center of the battlefield—
Inosuke was already panting heavily.
The new Breathing style was powerful, but the consumption was massive. And Gyokko was unbelievably slippery—every time Inosuke was about to hit his neck, he'd retract into a pot and pop out from another one.
"Hee-shu, hee-shu! How about it, kid!"
Gyokko popped out behind Inosuke, smugly waving his little hands.
"My cooperation is perfect, right?
Now those two Hashira definitely believe we're fighting to the death!"
Inosuke: "..."
Cooperate your ass!
I'm actually trying to kill you!
"Die, you rotten salted fish!"
Inosuke roared and charged again with blades raised.
"Excellent! Drama itself is a form of art!"
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