Kanae continued, her confusion lingering. "Jin-san, you don't seem surprised by us, or the organization. Are you perhaps familiar with the Corps? Did someone refer you?"

  ?Jin nodded, expecting the question. In this era, people were suspicious of strangers; no normal person would casually chat with a mysterious, sword-wielding group without fear. He needed to sound logical, so he started "cooking" an expnation.

  ?"I don't know you personally. I was watching your fight and I put the pieces together," he said ftly. "If there are demons in this world, naturally there would be a group like yours to hunt them. After all," he added with a fsh of mirth, "none of the rumors about demons ever said they were vegetarians."

  ?The people in the room nodded. It was a reasonable deduction, even if they didn't particurly appreciate his sarcasm.

  ?Kanae accepted the answer. "Then... would you like to join us, Jin-san? I know it is a heavy thing to ask, but as someone who has witnessed their terror, you understand how fragile this peace is." She spoke with a hint of mencholy, likely thinking of the family she had lost.

  ?Jin was too tired to py hard to get. This was the question he’d been waiting for.

  ?"Sure. As long as I get food, shelter, and a paycheck, I’m in."

  ?With his acceptance, the tension in the room evaporated. A new recruit was always a mix of tragic and good news. For the Kakushi, it also made the paperwork easier; they could simply move him to the Butterfly Mansion for long-term recovery rather than treating him in the periphery.

  ?The Butterfly Mansion

  ?After two days of rest, Jin was shipped off to the mansion. There, he met a girl around his age. She looked simir to Kanae but carried a far more irritable aura.

  ?She introduced herself as Shinobu Kocho, the deputy in charge of the estate. Jin didn't want any drama, so he kept it cordial.

  ?"You can call me Jin. Currently recuperating and soon to be drafted."

  ?Shinobu found him strange, but she didn’t judge. To her, anyone willing to take up a sword against demons was worth her time. She bowed politely. "Likewise, Jin-san. I am Shinobu Kocho, Kanae’s younger sister. Please inform me if you need anything during your stay."

  ?They didn't chat for long; the mansion was a revolving door of the sick and the broken. While Jin spent his recovery humming about the perks of free food, a messenger crow flew toward a distant estate.

  ?------‐-----------------------------------------

  ?In a quiet garden, a man with a hideous scar across his brow but a profoundly gentle aura received a letter. He read it and smiled, though a trace of sadness remained in his eyes.

  ?"Amane," he said to his wife, who stood faithfully beside him. "It looks like another special person has joined us."

  ?Amane looked at him, curious. "Who is it, my Lord?"

  ?The sickly, scarred man possessed no supernatural strength, but his intuition was terrifyingly sharp.

  ?"I don't know yet," Kagaya Ubuyashiki replied softly. "But the report says his eyes... his eyes are very special."

  Jin had rested for two weeks before being unceremoniously booted out of the mansion. Two weeks was plenty of time for someone of his nature to analyze the board and decide on a strategy.

  ?While he wasn’t a diehard fan, he knew enough to py the game. Combined with a mind that was a century ahead of the curve, he figured he could go far.

  ?"Step one: Get strong. Step two: Beat up Muzan Jackson. Step three: Drain the loaded Ubuyashiki coffers and retire like a feudal lord somewhere far away from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Maybe they’ll even make a documentary about me in the next century. Kekeke."

  ?Jin’s ugh was as dry as a desert, devoid of any real mirth, as he made his way toward his assigned trainer. It was a recommendation from Kanae—a middle-aged Water Breathing user named Hana. Her own son had died on duty, a fact Jin viewed with clinical coldness rather than pity.

  ?He had accepted the letter of recommendation politely, but he’d already started deconstructing the mechanics of Breathing Styles by the second day of his recovery. He hadn't practiced them yet—partly to stay under the radar, and partly because his ribs still felt like shattered gss.

  ?'When in Rome, do as the Romans,' he mused. 'Even if the Romans are running a disorganized circus.'

  ?He had a lot to compin about. The Corps was a stagnant mess. They’d barely innovated since Yoriichi’s time. It took until Shinobu to actually use science and poison, and even then, the rank-and-file were still swinging swords like it was the Sengoku period.

  ?'I get that Oyakata-sama is busy not dying and practicing his "family breathing," but come on man—at least optimize the system. You've had one job for a thousand years.'

  ?The whole situation was a farce to him.

  ?'The only reason the Corps even exists is because Muzan is a trash-tier CEO,' Jin thought. 'The guy is simultaneously terrified of and condescending toward the Syers. Maybe he’s self-aware enough to know he’s a joke; that’s probably why he never lets his demons off the leash.'

  ?Jin chuckled darkly. "He’s lucky Kokushibo is a bushido nerd and Doma doesn't give a single fuck. Otherwise, Muzan would’ve been genderbent fucked and discarded centuries ago, like some weird fanfiction plot."

  ?His strategy was simple: Learn the breathing, build enough clout to negotiate a lucrative contract with the Ubuyashiki, and then switch to a "pay-per-demon" freence basis. He didn't want to be a cog in their "righteous" machine. The Hashiras were too stuck in their ways, and according to the anime, their mortality rate was a joke. They traded lives for Upper Moons even when they had "immense potential."

  ?'I’m not dying for a cause that hasn't updated its manual in four hundred years,' Jin decided.

  ?He had hypotheses—ways to bridge the gap between human and demon performance without the suicide-run tactics—but those would have to wait until he was officially through the door.

  He soon reached the dojo, which was run by a family on a mountain. Thankfully, since they ran an actual business, they weren't like Urokodaki Sakonji—brooding on a foggy peak with zero reception.

  ?The master was an old man, Madam Hana’s husband. He was a skilled swordsman, though age and old injuries had kept him from mastering a Breathing Style. The couple lived there with their grandson, the st descendant of their line. Jin was received warmly; he wasn't the only one there for the training.

  ?"So you're the brat Kanae-chan wrote about. You don't look like anything special," the old master said, his voice stern. "We start sword training in two days. Until then, you’ll work and help around the dojo. We don’t keep idlers here."

  ?Despite the gruff exterior, Jin could tell the man was kind. Case in point: he immediately told Jin to join the other students for lunch and introduce himself. And just like that, Jin mingled into the dojo and started his training montage.

  ?The "old" Jin—the version of him before the memories merged—had been smart, but he’d struggled to understand the depth of human emotion. It was partly due to having a second set of subconscious memories muddying the waters. If he had been a total bnk ste, he might have ended up like Doma. But Doma was rich and adored from birth, with the luxury to ponder the void. Jin, on the other hand, had nothing.

  ?Even without a full emotional range, Jin had once had a mother who served as his moral compass, even after her death. That was why, despite the hardship and rejection, he never undermined the value of life. His logic was simple: if a woman could sacrifice her happiness and her very life to raise a "liability" like him, then she must have seen a value in existence that he, with all his smarts, couldn't yet perceive.

  ?On the streets, he’d seen many act according to cold logic, but a few, like his mother, acted against it. That fascinated the young Jin. In fact, his attempt to rescue that girl—the move that got him locked in a cage—had been a desperate imitation of his mother’s nature, a test to see if he could finally feel something.

  ?Funnily enough, he did. He ended up feeling enough to wake up cursing, just as a completely different person,but still he felt more hinself than ever.

  The dojo was a step up from the gutter. Most of the students were too busy chasing their own goals to bother bullying him, though a few still looked at his face and eyes like he was a glitch in the Matrix.

  ?Madam Hana, the Water Breathing user, was a gentle soul on the surface but far stricter than her gruff husband. Jin found them an oddly "cute" couple. Between the chores and the training, his life had taken on a therapeutic rhythm. It kept his mind from spiraling into over-analysis and gave him a rare sense of peace.

  ?Basically, a paid vacation with extra cardio, he thought