9 Vol. III Demon Slayer: Floating Comment

Bang!

A searing bullet tore through the night sky, forcing the demon on the clearing to stumble back a few steps.

Genya gripped his blade tightly between his teeth, ejecting the last round from his shotgun before leaping back to reload with practiced precision.

Nearby, Tanjiro tightened his hold on his sword, his breath steady but strained as he faced another demon that had come to confront them. He slashed forward, two brilliant arcs of light trailing his blade.

Amid the chaos, Tanjiro caught the faint scent of Urokodaki—a presence both distant and close. The old master had likely heard the sound of Genya's gunfire and was hurrying toward the mountain's base.

But Urokodaki didn't appear immediately. Perhaps he was standing amidst the trees, observing their battle. Or maybe he judged these demons too trivial to warrant his intervention, leaving the task to his pupils to gauge the fruits of their rigorous training.

Huff... Huff...

Tanjiro's lungs burned. The strain of overusing his Breathing techniques was taking its toll. Yet, watching Genya—who was even younger than him—move with calculated ease filled Tanjiro with equal parts admiration and resolve.

You can do this, Tanjiro! he thought. If you can't even take down this demon, how can you hope to survive the Final Selection on Mount Fujikasane? How will you ever face Muzan Kibutsuji—the monster who killed your family and turned Nezuko into a demon?

You're the eldest son. You're the pillar your siblings rely on. You can't afford to falter!

As determination surged through him, Genya's fierce struggle reached a boiling point. The younger boy was hurled into the side of a wooden cabin with a heavy thud, crashing to the ground with force.

Genya quickly scrambled to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Damn it!" he growled, his voice sharp with frustration. "I landed face-first!"

Probing his teeth with his tongue, he felt one of his molars loosen slightly.

"That bastard!"

Snarling, Genya glared at the demon, baring his teeth in a menacing grin. "You're asking for it now."

In a blur, Genya lunged forward and grabbed the demon by the neck, stopping its erratic movements. Without hesitation, he bit down hard on its flesh.

Gag!

The taste was revolting—worse than he'd anticipated. Genya spat furiously, wiping his mouth.

Ugh, gross! he thought. Yushiro's medicine-coated demon pills have spoiled me. Even with spices, they were bad enough, but this… this is unbearable!

Still, he swallowed the chunk of demon flesh, suppressing his revulsion. Almost immediately, his heart thundered in his chest like a hammer striking an anvil. Veins bulged visibly along his arms and neck, and his eyes darkened with the onset of demonic transformation.

"Tanjiro!" Genya roared, his voice thick with urgency. "Where's its weak spot?"

After months of training together, Genya knew Tanjiro's ability to sniff out the "threads" of a demon's vulnerabilities.

"The neck!" Tanjiro shouted back, his teeth clenched. "It's still the neck!"

He had seen the thread of weakness—clearly. Yet every time he moved to exploit it, the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

The neck… Just like any other demon.

Genya lowered his shotgun, unleashing a hail of bullets. The demon staggered under the barrage, its movements faltering just long enough for Genya to leap into the air, blade in hand.

His arms bulged with newfound strength from devouring the demon flesh, and his grip on his Nichirin blade tightened. The dull edge glinted as he brought it down in a flash.

Shing!

The blade tore through the demon's neck, as tough and rubbery as it was. Genya's strength and speed pushed the blade through, severing the head cleanly.

Splat!

The demon exploded into a putrid puddle of green ooze. Genya stood over the remains, he fought the rising nausea.

What the hell did I just eat? he thought, shuddering. Why didn't it turn to ash like the others?

Seeing Genya defeat his foe, Tanjiro's spirit surged.

Amazing, Genya! Tanjiro thought. If he can do it, then so can I!

The thread appeared again in his vision, and this time, Tanjiro felt certain he could strike true.

But just as he prepared to attack, the insect-like demon in front of him turned abruptly, its antennae glowing faint red. In an instant, it bolted in the opposite direction, severing the fragile thread.

"It's running away!" Genya shouted, raising his shotgun—only to hear the telltale click of an empty chamber.

"No, you don't!" Tanjiro growled, his frustration boiling over.

The demon's scent was foul—a stench reeking of countless lives consumed. A demon like this couldn't be allowed to escape!

Tanjiro's breathing intensified. Memories of his father's Kagura dance flooded his mind, their movements vivid and sharp. In that moment, clarity struck him like lightning, guiding his hands into a new stance.

"Dance of the Fire God!"

A fiery arc illuminated the night sky as Tanjiro's blade cleaved through the demon's neck, reducing it to ash in an instant.