The journey from the Rengoku residence to Gyōda wasn't very far. If traveling during the day, it would take less than two days to reach the destination.
Along the way, Takeo didn't push himself too hard to the point of wasting stamina, but he also didn't move too slowly and waste time.
He kept a moderate pace, just enough to make sure he'd be in his best condition when facing the demon hiding in Gyōda.
Takeo did this because he had heard from Senjurō that the Demon Slayer Corps usually assigns missions based on a swordsman's strength.
And that kid named Muichirō Tokitō clearly had ties to the Ubuyashiki family. The Master definitely knew how powerful he was.
So, if Takeo had fought Tokitō evenly—and even won—then the Master must also be aware of Takeo's abilities.
Which meant that, even for his very first mission, Takeo might be sent to face a fairly strong demon. It could even be that others had already been sent to investigate and mysteriously vanished, so they were now dispatching someone stronger.
"But thinking about it now, the Corps' ranking system doesn't really make much sense…" Takeo muttered to himself.
He recalled the ranking system of the Demon Slayer Corps and couldn't help but complain in his heart.
Someone like Asagiri Asato, who had only mastered one or two Breathing Techniques, was already ranked Tsuchinoe. But Takeo, who had created an entirely new Breathing Style, was still just a Mizunoto.
Sure, combat strength doesn't always align perfectly with rank… but still, shouldn't higher ranks generally mean greater strength?
So even the Demon Slayer Corps hasn't escaped the bad habit of seniority-based rankings, huh?
Takeo wondered whether the Corps allowed any kind of ranking "skips."
Ah—actually, they did.
If someone managed to slay a member of the Twelve Kizuki, they could be promoted directly to Hashira, regardless of their rank… but the Twelve Kizuki weren't exactly easy to run into. And even if Takeo did, chances were high he wouldn't be able to defeat one.
If slaying one of the Twelve Kizuki qualified a person to become a Hashira, then to play it safe, it was best to assume that the Kizuki were on par with the Hashira in strength.
Besides, Takeo figured that even five of himself combined probably wouldn't be able to beat Kyōjurō. So not being able to defeat a Kizuki? Perfectly reasonable.
Two days passed in a flash, and Takeo officially stepped into the town of Gyōda.
Watching the people bustling through the streets, he instinctively tucked the Nichirin sword behind his haori before starting to consider how to investigate the disappearances here.
Demons were excellent at hiding themselves. A normal search wouldn't yield anything.
And in a town like this, with so many people around, scents were extremely scattered.
If he couldn't narrow down a specific area to search, then not even his sharp sense of smell would help locate a demon.
Which meant the first step was to find someone involved with one of the missing persons cases.
That part wouldn't be hard to investigate.
In an era with so few entertainment options, most people passed the time by gossiping with neighbors.
Any little incident in someone's home could be spread and discussed for an entire day.
A disappearance was no small matter—naturally, even now, there were still people talking about it.
Takeo simply needed to stand around a crowded area and listen for a while to learn which family had a missing person. After asking a few questions about directions, he quickly found himself standing in front of the home of one of the most recent victims.
The family was named Akita.
Their eldest son had gone missing three days ago, making him the latest known disappearance.
There weren't many people in the Akita household. Besides the missing eldest son, there was only a younger son around twelve or thirteen years old, and an elderly father.
The mother had passed away years ago from complications during childbirth, so the father had raised both sons alone.
With the eldest son now missing, the family had lost their main laborer, plunging an already difficult life into even deeper hardship.
When Takeo arrived, the family was in the middle of firing pottery.
The Akita family made their living through pottery. Households like theirs were fairly common in Gyōda, so none of them earned particularly well. Simply surviving was already a struggle.
The door was wide open. The earthy scent of clay lingered in the air, and Takeo swept his gaze across the courtyard.
His eyes immediately locked onto the elderly man shaping a clay vessel on a spinning wheel in the yard.
The man wore a kimono the color of mud. A cloth was tied around his head, holding his hair back. His face was deeply lined with wrinkles, and his hands—covered in wet clay—bore visible scars and age.
Takeo observed the scene for a moment, then lightly knocked on the open door.
The elderly man's hands paused briefly before he looked up at Takeo and offered a smile.
"Looking to buy some pottery?"
"No, I'm here to ask you a few questions."
Takeo got straight to the point. "May I ask—where did your eldest son go missing?"
The old man's smile instantly faded.
His gaze shifted to the uniform beneath Takeo's haori, his brow furrowed. Then he turned his attention back to the spinning wheel and resumed shaping the clay.
"No idea. Don't ask me. Go play somewhere else, kid."
His tone had turned curt and impatient, but Takeo picked up on the weariness in his voice. It sounded like this wasn't the first time he'd been asked that question.
Takeo hesitated for a second, intending to press further—when a soft voice interrupted from the side:
"Are you looking for my brother?"
Takeo turned and saw a child standing by the gate, wearing a brown kimono, his hair cut short and tied with a brown cord. He was holding a bucket filled with water.
This was likely the younger son of the household, who had just returned from fetching water.
Takeo looked the boy over and nodded. "Yes. I'm investigating the disappearances… You can think of me as a detective. So if you know anything, I'd really appreciate your help."
"De… detective?"
"You can think of it as a private investigator who handles strange cases."
Takeo gave a simple explanation.
In this era, the term "detective" hadn't yet become widespread in Japan. Even if some had heard of it, it was mostly in bustling cities like Tokyo or Osaka.
That's why in a remote town like Gyōda, few would understand what a detective was.
But just because no one knew didn't mean the profession didn't exist. Takeo had already decided—if he ran into more situations like this where it wasn't immediately clear whether demons were involved, he'd just say he was a detective.
It was better than saying he was part of the "Demon Slayer Corps."
After all, people might vaguely understand what a detective is. But if you tell them you're with the Demon Slayer Corps… who would know what that means?
"…But you look like you're the same age as me," the boy said, eyeing him suspiciously.
Takeo was just about to explain when the old man in the yard shouted:
"Tōjirō! How long are you going to stand at the door? Hurry up and bring that water over!"
"Coming!"
The boy named Tōjirō walked into the courtyard carrying the water bucket, but before stepping in, he whispered to Takeo:
"Father doesn't really like people bringing up anything about my brother. Go wait for me by the stone platform at the corner of the street. I'll come find you when I'm done."
With that, Tōjirō brushed past Takeo and headed toward the old man, joining him to help with the work.
Takeo watched the two of them busily working and, after a moment of thought, chose not to interrupt further. He turned and walked toward the stone platform Tōjirō had mentioned.
The old man didn't seem like the most approachable person… but this kid, Tōjirō, seemed more open?
Maybe he'd be able to get some information from him.
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12 Advance chapters—P@treon/HornyFBI