Chapter 157 Dialogue and Argument

Tamayo seemed to trust Yoriichi completely. Iwakatsu watched Yoriichi, who was with Chachamaru, lying on the grass in the yard, basking in the sunlight. He sat inside the house, the roof obscuring his own darkness, preventing him from getting close to the light.

This isn't the first time this has happened.

Yan Sheng had actually forgotten the feel of the sun, only remembering the sweat that flowed down his face because of the heat. But every time he saw others in the sun, he still felt a mix of emotions.

So he spent every day in his room.

Not wanting to look anymore, Yan Sheng got up and returned to the completely darkened room. Only a sliver of light coming through the window told him it was daytime. He lay on his side on the bed, his hair obscuring his face; he was tired.

As Yan Sheng swiped his mind, a transparent blue template appeared before him, displaying only two plot points: the Sword Forging Village and the Final Battle. Just as Yan Sheng had expected, any mistakes made along the way wouldn't matter once the plot was completed.

"1008..."

A few seconds later, a voice that hadn't been heard in a long time rang in Yan Sheng's ears. Every time the other person appeared, Yan Sheng felt at ease, proving that those memories were not his imagination.

"Host, is there anything I can help you with?"

What will happen to me after the story ends?

Although Iwakatsu knew he wouldn't die, the closer he got, the more panicked he became about the uncertain future. If he didn't die, would he have to live like this for the rest of his life?

"Host, I understand. I've prepared a gift for you; I'm sure you'll like it."

1008 said cheerfully that Yan Sheng was the host he had kept the longest. Although they didn't communicate much, it was enough for him to treat Yan Sheng specially.

"Thank you, Xiao Liu."

Although he didn't know what the other person meant by gift, Yan Sheng's mood improved considerably.

"Knock knock knock—".

The knocking interrupted Iwakatsu's thoughts. Without a doubt, Iwakatsu could feel the burning heat emanating from the door; who else could it be but Yoriichi Tsugikuni? Iwakatsu didn't reply, nor did he move an inch. But the person outside didn't leave; instead, after a moment's pause, they gently opened the door.

“I didn’t let you… in.”

Iwakatsu stood up, frowning slightly as he looked at the tall figure in the doorway with a hint of displeasure. Yoriichi didn't speak, but instead covered Iwakatsu with a blanket, the warm warmth of which momentarily startled him.

"Brother, please forgive my rudeness, but the sunshine is very warm, and I would like you to feel it too."

It was very warm, reminding him of the past, when he always liked to warm his blankets in the winter sun, and it felt very comfortable to cover himself with them.

Iwakatsu opened his mouth, but the reprimanding words ultimately remained unspoken. He nodded, his hands gripping the pristine white blanket tightly. He stared at Yoriichi Tsugikuni; time had left no trace on him, he still looked the same as he had four hundred years ago.

The true, eternally youthful, and eternally living Son of God.

"Brother, I'm glad you like it."

Yoriichi Tsugikuni looked at him and gave a faint smile, causing Iwakatsu's pupils to shrink slightly. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and turned his head away, refusing to look at the other person again.

What are you laughing at? It's so annoying.

———

Yuichiro woke up after only four hours of sleep, with slight dark circles under his eyes. He was feeling restless from lack of sleep and decided to go for a walk to clear his head.

He walked along the road through the woods. The road up the mountain was a bit winding. Ichiro looked around. The faint smell of sulfur floated around him, along with the sounds of the woods.

Don't touch it!

Yuichiro glanced over and saw Tanjiro slap Muichiro's hand away, his face covered in sweat and his expression fierce. He frowned slightly, his long-standing protective instinct towards Muichiro making him instinctively step forward to stand between the two.

It's that person from yesterday.

Tokito Muichiro glanced at Ichiro, who had his hair tied in a ponytail, in front of him, then focused his gaze on the hand that had just been slapped, looking at it indifferently. The back of his hand was slightly red, and the tingling pain made Muichiro a little stunned. His other hand was also only covered by his outer garment.

"Tanjiro, what's wrong?"

As Yuichiro spoke, his gaze lingered on the back of Muichiro's hand, half-hidden by his sleeve, and his brows furrowed slightly. Meanwhile, Kotetsu, who had been comforted by Tanjiro, shook his head, watching the three warily, his body trembling slightly.

"I will not give the key to anyone, not even if I am tortured! It's about to break!"

Facing the trembling Tetsuya, Muichiro, standing behind Ichiro, spoke up: "Have you been trained in torture? Even adults can barely withstand it, let alone you. You seem to be a rather foolish child."

"So what if it's broken? Just fix it again! How many people die while you're rambling on and on like this?"

Ichiro turned his head, his brows furrowing even deeper. He had been so caught up in his anger that he hadn't noticed how sharp Ichiro's words had become, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. Tanjiro and Kotetsu also looked displeased, but Ichiro paid them no heed and instead reached out his hand.

"The value of Pillar's time is completely different from yours. You can understand that with a little thought, right? The swordsmith can't fight or save people; he's useless except for making weapons. Figure out your position before you act. Give me the key."

"Snap—".

Tanjiro slapped his hand away, shouting angrily, "What's wrong with you? Don't you have any compassion for people? What you said is mostly correct, but forging swords is also a very important job. They are people with different and more advanced skills than swordsmen..."

Muichiro wasn't particularly moved. He looked at the noisy Tanjiro and raised his hand to strike him, but was firmly grabbed by a hand. He turned his head and saw Muichiro's dissatisfied expression.

"Arguing is one thing, but resorting to violence is another, Muichiro."

Muichiro was slightly taken aback, looking at the other's expression. For a moment, he seemed to grasp something, but it quickly disappeared. He shook off Ichiro's hand, still maintaining his indifferent demeanor.

"This doesn't seem to concern you—".

"So what? I'm meddling in other people's business? I'm really getting worse and worse, arguing with someone like you who has no memory. Muichiro's 'Mu' means 'indifferent,' so even if I'm angry, I'm still indifferent to you!"

Yuichiro gripped the hand that had been flung away. He hadn't shouted so angrily in a long time. His eyes were red-rimmed, and tears welled up in his blue eyes. The symptoms of sleep deprivation were particularly noticeable at this moment, making his temples throb.

Ichiro's sudden outburst silenced the scene. Tanjiro could smell the sadness emanating from him, and even Kotetsu stopped trembling and stared blankly at him.

"Never mind," Yuichiro took a deep breath, closed his eyes, turned and strode away, feeling that he should calm down by himself.

"Ichiro—." Tanjiro watched the other leave, and as he was about to follow, Kotetsu tugged at his clothes. He turned around and saw Kotetsu shaking his head.

This is clearly a conflict between the brothers, and offering comfort rashly will only backfire.

Tanjiro touched his nose, paused when he saw Muichiro, wondering if he was seeing things. The boy, who had maintained a calm expression from the beginning, showed surprise and panic for the first time.