The swordsmith's workshop was a place where the clang of hammer on anvil was a constant melody, and the glow of the forge a steadfast beacon. Yet, in the presence of the Yoriichi Zero Type, the room held a hushed reverence. The swordsmith, a man whose hands were more accustomed to the heat of the forge than the delicacy of preservation, stood before Jon with a furrowed brow and a voice tinged with worry.
"Jon-san, this is the Yoriichi Zero Type you requested. We have tried our best to preserve it during this time, but after all, it is a doll used for training. Moreover, since it has been passed down from the Sengoku period three hundred years ago, it is now badly damaged!" The swordsmith's words were heavy with the weight of responsibility.
"I heard from our lord that Jon-san, you can repair it? If that's the case, that would be wonderful. My ancestors have been guarding the Yoriichi Zero Type, and if it were to break on my watch, I would be uneasy for the rest of my life!" His eyes, reflecting the flickering flames of the forge, searched Jon's face for reassurance.
Jon approached the artifact doll with a silent, almost spectral grace. His eyes, sharp and discerning, took in the Yoriichi Zero Type's form—a testament to the legacy of the Demon Slayer Corps. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers wrapping around the doll's head, and with a swift, deliberate motion, he pulled it off.
Crack!
The sound of cracking wood echoed through the workshop like a thunderclap. The swordsmith's heart lurched, his body shuddering as if struck by an unseen force.
"Jon-san, what... what are you doing?!" The swordsmith's voice was a cocktail of shock, surprise, and burgeoning anger.
His mind raced with thoughts of dishonor and failure. 'Didn't he say he could fix it? Why did he pull off its head without saying anything? I just said that if it broke, I would be uneasy for life, and in the blink of an eye, he dismantled the doll's head.' The swordsmith's heart was a cacophony of fear and confusion.
Jon remained silent, his focus unbroken as he reached into the hollows of the doll's body. His hand emerged clutching a sword, its blade cloaked in rust and the vestiges of time, yet it hummed with a faint black glow, whispering of hidden power.
[Ding! Side quest completed: Find the swordsmith village, acquire the Yoriichi Tsugikuni Nichirin sword, receive 600 penalty points.]
A slight smile played upon Jon's lips as the system prompt chimed in his mind. The swordsmith, still reeling from the shock, caught sight of the black sword in Jon's hand and gasped, his hand flying to his mouth.
"That... that sword is..." His voice was a mere whisper, a breath of disbelief.
"Yoriichi Tsugikuni's Nichirin sword," Jon replied, his voice steady and sure. "It's a pity it's too damaged to use, but no matter, this is not a problem for me."
With a flourish, Jon summoned a torrent of hellfire, its crimson and black flames dancing around the blade. The swordsmith watched, wide-eyed, as the hellfire licked at the sword, not consuming but caressing, transforming. When the flames receded, a brand-new sword, gleaming with potential and power, lay in Jon's hands.
The swordsmith's astonishment was palpable, his eyes reflecting the reborn blade's luster.
Jon then turned his attention back to the Yoriichi Zero Type. He reattached the head with a care that belied his earlier actions, his hands moving with a craftsman's precision. He waved his hand once more, and the hellfire enveloped the doll. This time, the swordsmith did not protest; he stood in silent witness, his skepticism giving way to a budding hope.
As the last of the hellfire vanished like mist under the morning sun, the Yoriichi Zero Type stood restored, its presence commanding the room with newfound vigor. The swordsmith's eyes were wide with wonder, his earlier distress replaced by awe.
Jon, with a nod of satisfaction, put away the Yoriichi Zero Type. The swordsmith, now a believer in Jon's mysterious abilities, knew that the legend of the Yoriichi Zero Type would continue, its legacy preserved by the hands of this enigmatic stranger.
***
Jon stood at the edge of the swordsmith village, the soft murmur of the forge fading behind him. He took a moment to glance back, his eyes lingering on the place where history and craftsmanship intertwined, where he had once again proven his abilities. With a nod to the past, he turned and walked away, his steps carrying him towards his next great adventure.
Tamayo, the wise and gentle demon who had aided him in his quests, stood by, her expression a blend of melancholy and pride. "Jon-san, your journey here has been a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness," she said, her voice soft yet resonant.
Jon paused, offering her a smile that spoke volumes of the respect and camaraderie forged between them. "Tamayo-san, your guidance has been invaluable. This world, with all its chaos and beauty, will remain with me wherever I go."
With a final bow, Jon turned his back on the Demon Slayer world, his mind already reaching out to the familiar pull of the Marvel Universe.
[Return countdown begins: five, four, three, two, one, begin return...]
As the countdown in Jon's mind concluded, a bright gate shimmered into existence, a portal conjured by his will alone. It unfolded like a flower greeting the dawn, and Jon's consciousness, eager and unyielding, was drawn into its embrace.
The transition was seamless, a dance of worlds and memories that twined together before releasing him into the comforting embrace of his own bed. Jon took a deep breath, the air of his room filling his lungs, grounding him in the reality of his return.
"Finally back," he murmured, a sense of accomplishment threading through his words. "Let's see what I've gained from this world!"
With a thought, Jon summoned the panel in his mind, the translucent screen hovering before his eyes, eager to reveal the fruits of his labor.
[Main quest: Judge the Demon King Kibutsuji Muzan (completed), receive 3000 penalty points.]
[Side quest: Eliminate the Twelve Demon Moons (completed), a total of 10800 penalty points received.]
[Side quest: At least eliminate ten ordinary demons (completed), receive 800 penalty points.]
[Side quest: Find the swordsmith village, acquire Yoriichi Tsugikuni's Nichirin sword, receive 600 penalty points.]
[Legendary quest: Judge a thousand deeply sinful souls across the myriad worlds, current progress (73/1000).]
[In this traversal, you have gained a total of 1900 penalty points through the Soul Sacrifice function feature.]
[In this minor world, you have gained a total of 17100 penalty points.]
[The Demon Slayer universe store has been opened, where you can purchase items from this universe.]
Jon's lips curved into a satisfied grin as he reviewed the settlement panel. "Although it's not as much as the last time in the Men in Black universe, it's still good!"
Jon's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as he lay back, the weight of his eyelids tempting him towards sleep. But a spark of realization jolted him awake. There was a crucial experiment he had yet to conduct—an experiment that could redefine the boundaries of his power.
Glancing at the clock, its hands creeping past midnight, he knew the world outside was draped in the silence of the night. Annie, his ever-curious companion, would not interrupt him at this hour. With a sense of purpose, Jon reached for the magical suitcase, an artifact that defied the laws of space, and stepped inside.
The interior of the suitcase unfolded into a vast expanse, at the center of which stood his wooden hut. The Yoriichi Zero Type, a silent sentinel, added a touch of solemnity to the otherwise sparse surroundings.
"Hmm... this is my refuge in the copy world," Jon mused, his eyes scanning the space. "The decor is indeed a bit random, but aesthetics were never my strong suit... perhaps I'll conjure up something later."
Shaking off the trivialities of interior design, Jon focused on the task at hand. He accessed the Harry Potter plane store and, with a swift transaction of 3000 penalty points, acquired a Hungarian Horntail—a dragon renowned for its ferocity and might.
With a flick of his wrist, Jon summoned Igris, his loyal and formidable companion, and set the stage for a clash of titans.
This was not a test of strength; Jon was well aware that Igris, empowered by hellfire, was beyond the Horntail's league. The true purpose of this confrontation was to probe the depths of Igris' potential.
The battle was swift and decisive. The Hungarian Horntail, for all its primal fury, was no match for Igris' infernal flames. In a dance of fire and fang, the dragon was subdued, its will crushed beneath Igris' overwhelming power.
"Devour!" Jon commanded, his voice resonating with authority.
Igris responded with a roar that shook the very air, its wings unfurling as it lunged forward. With a final, crushing bite, the dragon was slain, and Igris began its feast, consuming the creature in its entirety.
Jon watched in silence, his eyes sharp as he noted every subtle transformation. Igris grew in size, its scales thickening, its wings taking on a new, more menacing shape. It was clear that the essence of the Hungarian Horntail was being assimilated, its strength becoming Igris'.
"The more it devours, the stronger it becomes, and it can even consume its own kind," Jon pondered, his mind racing with possibilities. He had been cautious, wary of the dangers of cannibalism, but this experiment was a resounding success.
"Let's see what changes will occur after devouring other creatures," Jon said, a hint of excitement coloring his tone.
He returned to the store and procured a menagerie of magical beasts, each one a unique reservoir of power for Igris to tap into. As the creature consumed its varied prey, its form swelled, its presence grew more imposing, and a plethora of new abilities unfurled before Jon's eyes.
Though Igris had yet to reach the legendary stature of dragons like Smaug or Deathwing, the trajectory was undeniable. With each creature it absorbed, Igris was evolving, becoming a force that would one day stand shoulder to shoulder with the titans of myth and legend.
Jon's smile widened as he contemplated the future. With Igris by his side, the possibilities were endless, the realms of power within their grasp ever-expanding. This was just the beginning, and the path ahead was fraught with potential and promise.
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