Chapter 37: Those who exhaust their paths, their destinations are the same.

In his memory.

Four hundred years ago.

During the Warring States period,

When Kokushibo was still a human, his name was Tsugikuni Michikatsu, and he was the Moon Hashira in the Demon Slayer Corps at that time.

Although he joined the Demon Slayer Corps the latest, he became the second strongest hashira at that time.

That day.

"Yoriichi."

Tsugikuni Michikatsu stood next to Yoriichi, he looked far away at the sunlight pouring out from the top of the cloud, his tone was full of anxiety:

"No one's strength can match you and me."

"The inheritance of the breathing method is simply disappointing..."

He sighed:

"If this continues, the skills that have been honed over time will be lost."

After a pause, Tsugikuni Michikatsu saw that Yoriichi did not respond.

Aren't you worried, Yoriichi.

Tsugikuni Michikatsu turned his head to look at his younger brother, looking at this man who gathered everything in the world in his heart.

Although he said so, there was a hint of contempt for others in his tone.

Yoriichi, with his deep red high ponytail, stood in front of Tsugikuni Michikatsu, his back to his elder brother.

The breeze blew his clothes, the dark red feather weave was draped over his shoulders, and his faint tone did not reveal any emotions:

"Elder brother."

"You are overestimating us."

Tsugikuni Yoriichi just stood there, his face expressionless, his eyes calmly looking into the distance, saying lightly:

"You and I are just two passers-by in the long history of mankind..."

"Perhaps a baby with a talent far above you and me is being born somewhere in the world at this moment."

"I believe that they will eventually reach the same realm as you and me."

He seemed to be stating an unimportant fact, without paying any attention to the incredulous eyes of Tsugikuni Iwakatsu next to him:

"Don't worry too much."

"Elder brother."

Yoriichi turned his head and looked at Tsugikuni Michikatsu seriously, his tone was profound:

"Those who exhaust their paths, their destinations are the same."

"Even if the times change, or the journey is different."

"We will all eventually arrive at the same place."

...

...

"Don't you think this is a pleasant thing."

"Brother."

Yoriichi's gentle and deep voice echoed in his mind.

Splash--

Crimson blood gushed out, spilling onto the ground, staining the shattered brick floor red.

Kokushibo covered his right arm that had been cut open from the middle, the muscles at the wound were tense, and the charred flesh bulged.

Blood still gushed out from between his fingers.

He didn't regrow his right arm as usual.

He subconsciously raised his half-cut arm and took a look.

Hiss...

A puff of burnt smoke rose from the half of his right arm.

My regeneration... is hindered...

In a daze, Kokushibo looked at Kamado Tanjuro not far away, he saw the originally black sword in Tanjuro's hand.

At this moment, his pitch-black sword was filled with smoke, and it started to turn red and hot from the middle.

And... Yoriichi, the same... red sword...

In this instant, all the thoughts in Kokushibo's mind became clear, he seemed to understand something.

So that's how it is...

Kokushibo looked at Tanjuro's appearance, he suddenly breathed rapidly, as if for the first time in hundreds of years, he understood his younger brother in this way.

His inner emotions were stirred up again.

So that's how it is...

Yoriichi!

You,

Have you been waiting for someone like this to appear...

For hundreds of years... always...

No need to worry...

Because one day... someone will be able to inherit your mantle...

Is that what you mean...

Yoriichi.

In Kokushibo's pupils, the image of Kamado Tanjuro at this moment was reflected.

The pattern on his left forehead was very eye-catching due to the rise in his body temperature, the large dark red feathers under his muscular body made him stand much taller.

His deep red hair was tied up high, and the familiar earrings that represented the inheritance of generations.

Plus, the blazing red sword in his hand.

At this moment, Tanjuro and Tsugikuni Yoriichi fate from hundreds of years ago, coincided.

"Those who exhaust their path... end up in the same place..."

Kokushibo stared blankly at Kamado Tanjuro, the hand holding the hilt of the sword gradually loosened, and he slowly muttered.

"The same..."

...

...

Suddenly.

Kokushibo felt as if he understood Yoriichi's thoughts four hundred years ago.

This made him, who had never been in sync with Yoriichi, feel a bit... surprised.

It was a joy from the bottom of his heart, but this emotion made Kokushibo himself astonished.

"Did I... take the wrong path..."

Kokushibo murmured in a low voice, he raised his left hand, looking at the protruding veins on his arm, and the dark nails.

Those who exhaust their path.

When he chose to become a demon, was this path right or wrong.

He had thought about this question once when he saw Yoriichi's childhood clothes.

But this time, the emotion of the old Yoriichi echoed in his heart:

'How pitiful... brother.'

...

On the street.

It's meaningless.

Everything he did was meaningless.

Fighting here is also meaningless...

Plop.

Kokushibo slowly straightened up, he no longer covered his wound, but openly looked at Tanjuro.

He walked out of the ruins.

He knew, he had lost.

He lost again, whether it was strength or thought.

He lost to the person in front of him who was so much like Yoriichi.

He lost to Yoriichi, who had predicted this scene four hundred years ago.

At that time, he was still anxious about his sword technique being lost in the next generation.

But Yoriichi had already set his sights on hundreds of years, or even longer.

Completely defeated.

But at this moment, there was no trace of the previous anxiety in his heart.

Creak——

He reached out and expressionlessly tore off the remaining floating clothes on his body.

The upper body was naked in the air, and the muscles that had been honed for hundreds of years were extremely clear.

Kamado Tanjuro was standing not far away, holding up the sword, being vigilant, and slowly walking towards this side.

Whoosh!

Kokushibo raised his head, and the six eyes once again looked at Tanjuro. His voice was low, slow, and clear:

"You..."

He held the sword and pointed at Tanjuro with the tip of the sword:

"What's your name...?"

Tanjuro, who was suddenly asked, was slightly stunned.

He squinted his eyes and watched Kokushibo, who had suddenly become silent for a while and then became very wrong.

——?

The Kusabimaru in his hand has never been slack.

"...Gohachiro."

Tanjuro frowned, he observed around and answered casually.

After hearing this, Kokushibo had no other reactions, he just nodded slightly, and the whole demon became quite strange:

"Gohachiro, I will remember..."

He is now very confused.

After understanding a bit of Yoriichi's thoughts, Kokushibo suddenly didn't know what he had done before.

He didn't leave anything in the world.

Nothing affected.

Then...

A trace of confusion flashed in Kokushibo's eyes.

What is the meaning of my existence in the world?

So.

In the gap where Tanjuro took the opportunity to breathe and adjust his breath.

Kokushibo lowered his head and took out a delicate purple and pink patterned small bag from the black hakama.

In the bag, what was installed was a rough wooden flute that was broken into two sections.

Whoosh!

Kokushibo turned into an afterimage and left here.

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