Shirou Emiya — Doesn't Want to Work Overtime!

Was it just a reflex, or something more? In mid-run, Shirou suddenly turned his head toward Suma and her companions.

It was like that odd feeling you get—when you're staring at someone and, for no reason at all, they turn around and look right back at you.

He probably hadn't sensed their eyes on him; sometimes you just look, without knowing why. But that sharp turn was enough for Shirou to spot the three figures standing atop the rooftop.

They were a fair distance away, but Shirou was an archer—his eyesight was extraordinary. He could easily make out the faces of all three on the roof.

And among them was the woman he'd collided with the day before.

It had only been a single night, but he still remembered that drenched encounter vividly.

But what was she doing on a rooftop?

Ordinary people couldn't climb up there so effortlessly.

And the way they stood, so steady and at ease—they'd clearly done this more than once.

In the noisy, tangled streets below, almost no one would notice figures on the roof. Even if someone did spot them, they'd never hear the conversation up there.

It was a simple but effective place to exchange information—especially for those who weren't undercover agents sneaking into enemy nations, but hunters of demons who could never step out in sunlight.

The wider the space, the safer the talk.

"When did he pull out a bow?"

Makio strode over and yanked the bamboo sword from the tiles, confusion in her eyes.

She hadn't seen any sign of a bow on Shirou as he was running.

Then she noticed the strip of paper tied to the bamboo blade.

[Please wait! I need to ask you something!]

It was Shirou's first time projecting a bow, and he was surprised to find that, unlike swords, conjuring a bow didn't drain his prana nearly as much.

When he'd seen those three on the rooftop by the crater, he'd known instantly—they were almost certainly like that Demon Slayer boy he'd met before. People who dealt with demons.

Or at least part of another group. Either way, Shirou felt he had to speak with them. And under the midday sun, they couldn't possibly be demons themselves.

He'd tried to project both bow and arrow, but the energy drain was huge. In the end, he settled for creating a bamboo sword—something he'd practiced with plenty. To avoid misunderstandings, he'd burned through even more prana to attach a note with his message.

I hope they don't take it the wrong way, he thought.

"I—I spilled tea all over him yesterday… do you think he's here to get revenge? Should I hide?"

Watching Shirou nimbly scale the roof toward them, Suma's anxiety was almost comical.

"He's not! Seriously, use your brain!" Makio rapped her lightly on the head, exasperated.

Their real enemy was demons. Shirou was famous throughout the hanamachi for being helpful and kind. And besides, if he meant them harm, he'd be coming from the shadows, not firing a bamboo sword in broad daylight.

There was simply no reason for conflict. The Demon Slayer Corps had no human enemies—only demons.

Soon, Shirou reached the rooftop.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Suma darted forward, grabbing Shirou's hand, apologizing over and over.

Shirou's mind went blank. He forgot what he'd even wanted to ask.

"Don't make a scene!" Makio quickly pried Suma off and dragged her aside.

"Um—could I ask, what exactly happened here last night?"

More than anything, Shirou wanted to know what had occurred. With information, he might still save those hundreds of people—lives always came first.

He couldn't give up hope.

"You're not with the Demon Slayer Corps, are you?" Hinazuru stared into Shirou's eyes, her voice gentle but firm.

If he were a member, he'd have the uniform—and he wouldn't have lingered in one place for a month. With demons roaming all across Japan, Demon Slayers were always on the move, training or fighting.

"No, I'm not," Shirou replied, a little confused. He just wanted information—why did it matter if he was in the Corps?

"In that case, I can't tell you what happened here."

Hinazuru's answer was quiet, but unyielding.

She didn't want to drag such a gentle boy into something this dangerous. Maybe he'd join the Corps one day—but right now, there was no way he could handle this.

He's just not ready yet. That was the truth in Hinazuru's eyes, even if it sounded cold.

She was the wife of a Hashira—she'd seen Demon Slayers up close for years, and she could tell immediately that Shirou's breathing was nowhere near that of a trained swordsman.

Someone who hadn't mastered Breathing Techniques couldn't possibly fight a demon.

And Shirou didn't even carry a nichirin blade—the only weapon that could kill demons. If he got involved now, he'd be the first to die.

Hinazuru refused to let that happen.

"Why?" Shirou didn't understand. Wasn't it better to have more hands, not fewer, in a crisis like this?

This wasn't a fight over resources. The more people who knew, the better their odds—shouldn't everyone stand together against demons?

"Don't worry. We've already reported everything. The Demon Slayer Corps will send people soon, and this will never happen again."

Worried Shirou might do something reckless, Hinazuru tried to reassure him.

"What about the people who vanished?" Shirou pressed, not hearing the answer he needed.

"They… they were probably devoured by a demon."

Hinazuru lowered her head, letting out a quiet sigh.

"No way! Could a demon really be that strong?"

Hundreds of people, gone just like that—it was impossible to believe. Even just hacking off that many limbs would wear anyone out.

"No, for a truly powerful demon, hundreds of lives can be taken as easily as snapping your fingers."

Makio rested a hand on Shirou's shoulder, her voice heavy.

Shirou had always pictured demons as being not much stronger than magi—like the magi Kiritsugu told him about back in his own world.

If you could explain something with technology, it was called magecraft, not magic. And no matter how impressive a magus was, at the end of the day, their power was about on par with a soldier.

But if there really were demons who could wipe out a tenth of a city in an instant, why weren't they ruling over everyone already?

It was clear that, in this bustling town, there was no dedicated protection. If the Demon Slayer Corps always arrived after the fact, wouldn't demons just move from place to place, destroying as they pleased?