For days, he hunted northward, moving like smoke between trees, through ravines, across rivers without bridges.
He didn't ask for directions to his destination . He didn't need names of anything .
He simply followed the strongest scents—the trace of steel, old sweat, smoke, and blood.
Along the road to his destination , he encountered demons.They weren't what he sought.But he didn't ignore them prey was prey after all. It's always good to keep a full stomach.Every encounter left behind a broken corpse, torn trees, and silence.
Eventually, he reached a wisteria-guarded gate leading into a mountain.
Two guards stood outside these gates.They blinked and blinked again.
An eight-foot giant approached, barefoot, shirtless, breathing low and slow like a stalking tiger. Furs clung to his waist. A mask made with the head of a boar obscured his face. His arms were veined and scarred. His swords—filthy, jagged, irregular—hung loosely from his hands.
Neither guard reached for a weapon.They had no training for this situation. They were intimidated by this giant presence.
Inosuke pov
He stepped forward towards the guards till he was in front of them.
The taller guard cleared his throat.
"Y-you here for… Final Selection?"
Inosuke stared. His head tilted he had no idea what he had said but he understood the intent behind the noise.
The smaller guard whispered: "Do we… stop him?"
The taller one shook his head.
"Are you going to?" he whispered back.
"Nope."
Inosuke walked between them without resistance.
A moment later, they radioed in a shaky report.
"Unregistered candidate. Towering. Masked. Dual blades. No paperwork. Didn't speak. Proceeded without caution ."
Inside the mountain, candidates huddled beneath wisteria trees, many muttering prayers.
Then, someone stepped into the clearing.Heads turned to see a fellow candidate.
Silence from what they see. All conversations died.Some backed away without thinking completely scared by what they see.
The instructors didn't even try to speak to him.
He stood still—boar mask facing the trees—breathing slow.
The moment the signal was given, Inosuke was already gone into the forest.
He didn't need anyone .
He just needed something to kill and eat.
Instructors pov
The gate shut behind the giant as he left the rest of his fellow candidates behind.
A row of trembling candidates watched the giant vanish into the trees without a word.
Some thought he was a demon in disguise due to his freakish appearance .One prayed thinking it would ward the giant beast away
Then they followed—hesitant, swords shaking in hand.
Inosuke pov
The forest watched him.
The air here was humid and heavy with fear. The trees grew too close. Moss whispered underfoot. Screams in the far distance rose and died.
Inosuke crouched low to the ground , sniffing for any lingering scent to chase.
He caught three strong scents instantly—demon, blood, sweat.
He sprinted at full speed on all fours to get to his prey's location.
Branches didn't slow him. Trees bent as he crashed through them, his large frame blitzing through undergrowth like a moving cliff. His blades weren't drawn yet. He wanted to see the demon before he kills it.
There up ahead of him—a demon, huge and horned, pinning a boy against a tree.
Inosuke didn't warn the demon.Didn't growl he wanted his attack to land without the demon hearing him.
He hit the demon like a comet slamming into it with tremendous force.
The boy screamed as the demon's body was torn from him—The demon crumbled to the ground its ribs snapping under the sheer force of Inosuke's impact. The demon tried to rise, but it only got one arm beneath itself before the first blade came down.
Not a quick soft slice.No it was a chop.The head of the demon went flying sideways, eyes still wide in confusion.
The boy had his back against the tree and he just stared at his savior
Inosuke stood over him, blood soaking his chest, silent.Then he turned and ran again off to hunt more demons.
Elsewhere close to the first demon encounter , another demon stalked two girls.
It froze mid-step—eyes wide. Then it dropped to all fours and fled. It didn't know why. It had survived decades , but now its spine burned with instinct. Something monstrous was nearby.
It was right.A moment later, its body was in pieces.
The instructors at the base of the mountain lit their evening incense and tallied how many children would likely survive the week.
That number would be off.
By morning, dozens of demons lay dead.Their bodies shredded, beheaded, flattened into soil some with huge bite marks ridden across their body's.
And not one of the Corps' official instructors had seen what did it. They only saw what remained of the slaughter.
By the third day of the final selection , candidates stopped hiding in trees.They started following the trail of broken trunks and scattered limbs.
Some even started calling out:
"Hello? Are you the one killing everything?"
No reply ever came. Only wind.
Some demons began avoiding humans entirely. The forest, as ancient as it was, began to learn fear.
A young girl named Sayo wandered into an open clearing and saw it for herself—a massive figure, masked by a boar skull, crouched over a headless corpse. His arms dripped with black blood. He looked up, tilted his head.
She didn't scream.She couldn't to in awe of the scene she enter. He stood up and walked past her like she wasn't there.The trees bent when he passed.
By the seventh day, only a handful of demons remained alive the rest became nourishment for the plants.
The sunset found them too afraid to hunt.A few crouched in caves, hissing at each other, arguing whether they were being hunted by a new kind of demon—or something older
One of them dared to move.It didn't make it ten steps before it was rip to pieces.
When the final crow cried that morning—"THE SELECTION HAS ENDED!"—most candidates hadn't even fought a single demon.
They had survived only because someone else killed for them.
The masked giant didn't return by trail.He walked straight out of the forest through the trees, like a beast ignoring borders.
The officials stepped back at his approach.
One whispered, "…He's not on the list."
Another muttered, "He cleared half the forest."
The crow assigned to him refused to land to afraid of the giant.
No one spoke as he passed scared he would hear them.No one asked questions to not agitate this person.
He didn't carry a traditional sword on his person. He arrived with two blades—chipped, blood-soaked, and gripped like extensions of his arms.
That day after final selection , rumors began to spread.That something else had survived Final Selection.
Something ancient older than the demons.Something hungry for battles and prey.Something the demons feared will all fear.
Silence blanketed the mountain gate.
Inosuke stood motionless at the edge of the clearing.The morning sun bled through the mist, brushing his bare chest, which rose and fell with the same calm rhythm of an animal at rest—not a man exhausted from battle.
His boar skull masked his face, but the dark hollows of its eye sockets seemed to stare into everyone right into their souls.
Corps clerks whispered behind a scroll.
"He's not in the registry."
"There's no name. No trainer filed a request."
"Those swords aren't Corps-forged."
One finally stepped forward with forced authority.He held a Kasugai crow and a long record sheet.
"We—" he began, then paused. Looked up at the looming shadow standing before him.
Inosuke didn't speak. His breath fogged the air, slow and deep.
The clerk glanced at the blades—jagged, chipped, scarred like bone dripping with blood.
"Are you… human?"
No answer not even a tilt of the head came from inosuke.
The clerk stepped back.
"Summon the Hashira," he muttered to the nearest attendant. "All of them."
Three Hours Later – Ubuyashiki Estate
The courtyard felt smaller than usual.
Not because it had changed—but because of what stood at its center.
Inosuke, the unregistered, silent survivor of Final Selection, crouched barefoot in the dirt, towering even when slouched. The blood-streaked boar skull obscured his face, and a thick pelt hung over his scarred shoulders. His chest rose and fell slowly—calm, relaxed, completely at ease despite being surrounded by the nine deadliest swordsmen alive.
None of them had ever seen anything like him.
Sanemi was the first to break the tension.
"That's no slayer," he spat, circling slowly. "No trainer signed for him. No crow found him. Those blades? Modified junk."
He pointed. "He's not even human-sized. Look at that spine. That bone density. That jaw. He's some sort of… wild-born freak."
Muichiro, eyes narrow, murmured, "His breath pattern's wrong. He's not using forms. He's not copying known breathing styles. It's instinct. Chaotic."
Gyomei knelt silently in prayer, but his brow was furrowed, tense.
Giyu leaned against a pillar, arms folded. Silent as ever.
Shinobu stepped closer, analytical. "His musculature is beyond typical for even a trained adult. His posture—his proportions—don't line up with any normal growth curve."
Rengoku grinned, eyes blazing. "HE'S A WARRIOR! A BORN CONQUEROR! TO SLAY DEMONS WITH NO TRAINING IS A FEAT WORTH CELEBRATION!"
Inosuke grunted faintly—unbothered.
Mitsuri had been quiet until then.
She approached softly, crouching a few feet away, rice ball in hand. "He's like a lion…"
She tilted her head, green eyes scanning him.
Then her gaze caught on something tucked into the ragged sash at his waist—hidden beneath the furs.
"Wait… what's that?"
She reached out gently.
Inosuke didn't resist.
Her fingers closed around a faded, fraying piece of cloth—a child's scarf, barely held together. She unfolded it, revealing faded threadwork: a stitched name.
"Inosuke… Hashibira."
The moment she read it aloud, everyone went still.
Shinobu moved fast. She snatched the fabric from Mitsuri's hand, holding it to the light. "Get me a registry pull."
An attendant bowed and sprinted away.Ten minutes passed.
Inosuke sat like a boulder solid and still.
When the clerk returned, he looked like he'd seen a ghost.
He passed the document to Shinobu.
She read aloud:
"Hashibira Inosuke. Male. Birth registered fifteen years ago in a rural village near Mount Hikami. Mother presumed deceased. No living relatives. Vanished after age one. Presumed eaten by beasts."
"Fifteen," she repeated quietly.
Sanemi scoffed. "No. That's not—he's eight feet tall!"
Shinobu didn't smile. "But it's true. This boy… this child… has been surviving alone in the wild since infancy."
Even Muichiro stopped moving.
Gyomei's prayer faltered.
Rengoku's grin faded into focused awe. "If this strength is his beginning… then what will he become?"
Mitsuri stared, voice barely above a whisper. "He's just a boy…"
Sanemi muttered, "He looks like a monster."
Shinobu replied, "That's what happens when a child becomes his own god."
From across the courtyard, Ubuyashiki had arrived.Pale, blind, smiling softly.
"You are all correct," he whispered. "He is a monster. But a child's monster. One raised by death itself."
He turned his head toward the still-silent Inosuke.
"He is a new kind of soldier."
That day, they stopped wondering what Inosuke was a man or a beast.They began wondering what else he could become in the future.