Over the next six months, he grew closer to the old master, Mikihiko. The old man had come to appreciate Jin’s calm, clinical work ethic—a sharp contrast to the typical "shonen protagonist" impatience of the other youths.

  The couple also knew Jin was a monstrous talent; they could tell he was holding back during spars.

  Jin , with his 'Doma' perks could already pick up things faster than his peers, added to proper food and rest, his training arc was smooth sailing.

  ?Eventually, Mikihiko pulled him aside. "Brat, you could have left three months ago. Why linger here instead of taking the Final Selection?"

  ?Jin didn't sugarcoat it. "I could go, and I’d probably pass. Then what? I’m familiar with all ten forms, but 'knowing' them isn't mastering them. My physical conditioning and swordsmanship still have too many bugs to iron out."

  ?He looked the old man dead in the eye. "Passing a test isn't the priority. Being able to kill demons and stay alive is."

  ?Mikihiko fell silent, then nodded slowly. "Indeed. But don't dey too long. Real growth doesn't happen in a greenhouse."

  ?Jin wasn't just stalling; he was calibrating. Just because his mind had processed the techniques didn't mean his muscle memory had caught up. He spent his nights taking mental notes on the physiological changes he was experiencing.

  ?Breathing Styles by Yoriichi Tsugikuni... the man was essentially the Chuck Norris of this universe, Jin mused. The Corps is looking at it backward. Yoriichi wasn't strong because of the techniques; he just breathed, and everyone else spent four centuries trying to copy his homework.

  ?The man had been born with the Syer Mark and the Transparent World active. No wonder Muzan called "hax" and went offline for a century.

  ?"I don’t pn on dying in a decade or less just because of some mark," Jin muttered to himself. "Besides, the technique is just a tool. Killing the mob is the priority. If I find a more efficient way to delete demons, I’m taking it."

  ?His pn was multifaceted. Water Breathing was the perfect starting point—it was the most adaptive, least demanding style, and offered the best defensive utility.

  He’d already silently analyzed the intricacies of the Fire and Wind styles during his stay at the Butterfly Mansion, but he wasn't going to go "too meta" yet.

  Not that he dared to, with only the knowledge he had.

  ?He needed a solid foundation before he started breaking the game. If he showed his hand too early, Muzan might just go into hiding again, and Jin wasn't about to spend the next eighty years pying hide-and-seek without the internet.

  Jin spent another three months training before setting out for the Final Selection. On the eve of his departure, he was called into the main hall. The husband and wife sat side by side, their expressions unusually solemn.

  ?Jin sat casually, but his posture remained respectful. He meant it from the heart; not many people had treated him with genuine kindness. This couple and their grandson had, so he would reciprocate in kind.

  ?"Jin, you are finally leaving for the Selection," the old man said. Madam Hana, following tradition, deferred to her husband for the formal send-off.

  ?Jin nodded. "Well, I have to. Madam hasn't exactly been subtle about wanting to kick me out," he joked, causing the gently smiling dy’s eyebrows to twitch.

  ?The old man knew Jin was just messing around—it was his cynical way of showing he cared. With their years of experience, the couple saw through the numbness he used as a shield and felt a deep sorrow for whatever life had hollowed him out that way.

  ?"We would like you to have these," Mikihiko continued, ignoring the jab. "Consider them our graduation gift—and an investment." He pushed a set of clothes and a sword toward him.

  ?Jin’s expression shifted. He became serious, recognizing the weight of the gesture. "Old man, Madam... weren't you saving these for little Yuji?"

  ?Hana smiled sadly. "Yes, that was the pn. It belonged to his father. But call this old woman selfish... I just want my grandson to grow up safe and happy, not burdened by a bde like his father was." She looked at the sword. "Besides, you’ll do this bde more justice than my son ever could. Keep it as our blessing. Little Yuji already considers you a big brother."

  ?The sword wasn't a standard issue from the Swordsmith Vilge. It was a custom piece forged by Mikihiko for his son—heavier than a normal Nichirin bde and reinforced with specific alloys. Usually, only Hashiras received custom gear, and even then, they were limited to what the vilge smiths provided.

  ?Jin didn't stand on ceremony. He accepted the weapon. "I won't bring shame to this dojo or this steel. Old man... what kind of demon did your son encounter again?"

  ?He asked it casually, but the message was clear: he was asking for a target.

  ?The couple looked at Jin with a complex mix of affection, guilt, and hope. Jin didn't mind the gaze. In his mind, they had paid upfront, so he had to deliver. He might be "dead" inside, but he had a professional's work ethic.

  ?"They say it was a fast, powerful demon," the old man said gravely. "One who relied on physical martial arts rather than a Blood Demon Art. Yujiro’s body... the injuries were from fists, not magic."

  ?"Noted," Jin replied, his eyes sharpening. "I'll keep an eye out for demons who like to get up close and personal."

  ?"Stay safe, Jin," Hana said, rarely using his name .

  ?With that, Jin departed the next morning. Young Yuji was sad to see him go, as he had quite a bit of fun with jin, but in a dojo on a mountain, the boy had already learned that people were like the seasons—they always moved on.