Chapter 228: A Thieving Hashira

The area behind the hot spring mountain wasn’t particularly small.

The path narrowed amid thick vegetation, and the sun’s rays filtered through the treetops, creating a rather singular landscape.

After a quarter hour of walking, they spotted in the distance a small hut with a thatched roof and walls covered in moss.

Seated at the entrance was a boy of about eight or nine with a Hyottoko mask pushed up onto his forehead, revealing a stubborn face.

He held a knife in his hand, using it to carve a piece of wood.

Marcus walked toward him.

"Are you Kotetsu?"

The little one lifted his head, examined him with his gaze, lingering on the two swords at his waist, and then went back to his work.

"Yes."

"I’ve come for the Yoriichi Type Zero."

Kotetsu’s hand stopped. He looked up with a shift in his expression.

"Who are you? What do you want it for?"

"Demon Hashira, Marcus. It’s going to be useful to me."

The boy’s eyes widened a little more, but even so, he clenched his teeth and answered flatly:

"No."

"Why?"

"It’s my family’s treasure... It’s not lent, not sold, and not given away." He drove the knife into the ground and stood up. He barely reached Marcus’s waist, but he kept his chin held high.

Marcus said nothing; he remained standing, looking down at him with a neutral expression while his fingers gave light taps on the hilt of his sword.

Sweat began to break out on Kotetsu’s back.

He knew this person all too well: after all, with such a singular title, even the village chief spoke of him with the utmost respect.

Nevertheless, he refused to back down.

He kept his head held high in silence, though the trembling of his body betrayed that he was on the verge of bursting into tears from fright.

Mitsuri couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She stepped forward, crouched down to his level, and spoke to him in a gentle voice:

"Kotetsu-kun, Marcus-kun isn’t a bad person."

The boy turned his face away, stubborn. "Someone who comes to take my things the moment they meet me is a bad person."

"He really isn’t," Mitsuri insisted tenderly. "He’s a Hashira who fights on the front lines, the person with the best hope of putting an end to this terrible era. Every demon has their eyes fixed on him, and he’s been protecting us all."

Kotetsu looked at the expressionless Marcus and lowered his gaze again.

"He truly needs that doll," she continued, her eyes shining with sincerity. "Lend it to him for a little while, pretty please?"

The boy stayed silent for a few seconds before unhooking a bronze key from his belt and handing it to the young woman in a subdued voice:

"I’m lending it to you. Not to him!"

"Thank you so much, Kotetsu-kun." Mitsuri smiled at him and stroked his head, making him blush instantly.

She stood up and held the key out to Marcus. He took it and stroked her hair.

"Thank you so much, Mitsuri."

Her cheeks flushed all over again.

"Hey! I’m the one who gave you the key!"

Marcus shot him an indifferent look. "You’re mistaken, Mitsuri gave it to me."

Kotetsu nearly cracked his teeth from clenching them so hard.

The storehouse was right next to the hut. Opening the door, they found an enormous wooden crate about six and a half feet tall in the center, resembling an upright coffin, with worn paint and iron-reinforced edges.

Marcus approached and lifted the lid, releasing a dense cloud of dust.

Inside rested a life-sized puppet.

Its six arms hung down and its eyes stayed closed. The features faithfully reproduced those of a human being.

It was the likeness of Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the man who had once stood at the peak of absolute strength and Muzan’s eternal nightmare.

However, the new one built in his image had half of its face cracked. From the forehead down to the cheekbone, the opened casing revealed the bronze gears inside.

Marcus stared at the face for a few seconds and shook his head with a certain regret.

When it came down to it, he didn’t need the Yoriichi Type Zero as a training partner; he was only interested in its appearance.

"Can you repair it?" he asked Kotetsu.

The boy, somewhere between self-conscious and annoyed, shook his head. "I can’t. I don’t have a talent for mechanics. But it still works for fighting, it won’t affect your training."

"I don’t want you to repair its functions, I’m only looking for a surface-level fix."

"Surface-level?" Kotetsu was confused. Since the mechanism’s purpose was to train slayers, no one had ever cared about its appearance.

"That’s right, just the exterior. Can you do it?"

".... If it’s only the casing, yes," he murmured with a shrug.

"Perfect. Hurry up, I’m taking it tomorrow before noon."

"Tomorrow at noon...?" the little one grew alarmed. "I won’t have enough time on my own."

"Do you need help?"

Kotetsu nodded.

Marcus thought for a moment and looked at Mitsuri, who was observing the figure with curiosity. "Head back first, I’ll stay to help him."

Mitsuri stepped closer to him. "I can keep you company, Marcus-kun."

Marcus gently pinched her cheek. "Do as I say, take Nezuko back."

"Kyaa~!"

’Domineering Marcus-kun is so attractive~!’

Mitsuri left.

But even after getting quite far away, her cheeks were still burning.

The moment he was alone with the boy, Marcus went into his room. In the corner of the table lay several notebooks with folded pages and worn handwriting. He walked over there, picked up the manuscripts, and leafed through them.

Kotetsu tensed up. "What are you doing?! That’s mine!"

Ignoring him, Marcus turned the pages with narrowed eyes.

Even though he didn’t understand the technical detail, the idea of building such an agile automaton through simple gears was brilliant.

In his eyes, these writings were worth far more than the entire Swordsmith Village.

’To possess such a treasure without knowing it...’ If engineering were developed on a large scale, Muzan wouldn’t move around so freely.

He would take them no matter what. This was the real reason he’d sent Mitsuri away. It would be enough to hand them over to Ivy to research and assemble an army of a hundred dolls.

He curved his lips and tucked the notebooks under his arm. "Lend me these to read."

"You can’t! It’s my family’s inheritance!"

"I’ll give them back when I’m done."

"No—!"

Marcus lowered his head to look at him.

Kotetsu’s voice caught in his throat: in those eyes there was neither anger nor threat, but an indifference that made his skin crawl.

He lowered his head, powerless.

"You take advantage of people..."

"Relax. Once I’ve studied them well, I’ll hand you over more detailed material."

"I don’t want that... I just want those..."

"I’ll return the originals to you along with ten dolls."

"..."

Kotetsu didn’t dare talk back.

He understood that this Hashira was nothing more than a thief.

He clenched his teeth, picked up the knife, and began to clean the damaged area of the marionette.

Following his instructions, Marcus went up the mountain to gather the necessary materials.

The work progressed slowly as the sun sank between the peaks. Just as the last ray of light was vanishing over the horizon, a bloodcurdling scream rang out from the village entrance:

"DEMON!"

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