Ding—clink!A coin was flicked with the thumb, tossed into the air, rapidly descending and then caught firmly, repeating the motion over and over.
Shano leisurely walked through the alleyway under the dusk sky, the rhythm of the coin's rise and fall syncing with his steps.
"Hm?"
He suddenly looked up.
Not far ahead, a massive pale pink banner hung above the city gate, reading "The 25th Dojo Tournament of Asakiyama Island" in large letters.
To the left, a notice board stood, surrounded by a bustling crowd.
"Excuse me, thank you."
Using his strong build, Shano easily parted the crowd, making his way to the notice board.
"You damn—"
A few young ruffians, who had been shoved aside, were initially furious and turned to confront Shano, but upon seeing his muscular back, they silently returned to their positions.
"A swordsmanship competition? As long as you're a disciple of a sword dojo, you can participate. The registration fee is 10,000 Beli, deadline tomorrow."
"Reaching the semifinals grants 1 million Beli, and the champion gets 5 million Beli?"
Not bad, Shano thought, feeling somewhat tempted.
However, his swordsmanship was far from impressive; it was better not to embarrass himself.
More importantly, he had to find a ship to the Goya Kingdom early tomorrow. Who knew how long this competition would last? If it took a week or even half a month, he simply didn't have the time.
Shano shook his head, preparing to cross the suspension bridge and find an inn to rest for the night.
Just then, he saw the frail boy in tattered kendo attire again, standing frozen, staring up at the banner, gripping a bamboo sword tightly, his eyes dim with lack of hope.
Well, looks like it's time to return what was lost.
"Here, your money. Take it."
The boy was suddenly handed a cold coin. He froze, looking up at this imposing figure, trying to make sense of it.
"You—"
The boy opened his palm, still disoriented. Once he recognized the familiar coins, he muttered, "Another scammer...?"
"You don't seem surprised at all?" Shano raised an eyebrow. "Now, I'm the one who's surprised."
"I, uh... can roughly guess what's going on," the boy said quietly, still staring at his palm. "After all, it's my mother's hometown. I lived here for a few years when I was little. I've heard about those professional beggars."
"Then why give the money?" Shano asked.
"…There are real poor people too. Maybe it'll help someone."
"Commendable, but that old man was clearly no good. Your ability to judge seems lacking."
"…Yes, I've been isolated from the outside world since I was young. My experiences are terrible, and my teacher has said that about me."
"Teacher?" Shano glanced at the boy's bamboo sword, noting the frayed cloth wrapped around the handle, evidence of long use. "Kendo teacher?"
"Yeah, you probably haven't heard of him."
Upon mentioning this, the frail boy finally raised his head, his tone full of respect.
"But, Mr. Genshirou is truly an incredible swordsman! Becoming his disciple is the proudest moment of my life!"
Genshirou?Shano paused. He had come to return a few coins, and now there was an unexpected gain? Could this be the good karma paying off?
His interest piqued, Shano asked, "So, you came here from the Isshin Dojo?"
"Eh! How did you know?" The boy's eyes widened. "Have you been to Shimozuki Village?"
"Not yet."
Looks like I'll be depending on you to take me there.
Shimozuki Village was a place established not many years ago, with a bit of a hidden, secluded vibe—more remote than Cocoa West Village. Few merchant ships passed by, and without a ship of your own, it was hard to even get there.
Since this boy was a disciple of Genshirou, and had managed to come here, he must know a way to get back. All Shano needed to do was follow.
This month-long sea journey wasn't exactly for sightseeing—it was all about making use of opportunities. If there was no chance, fine; but now that the fate had placed a lamb in front of him, how could he not take advantage of it?
"I've heard of Mr. Genshirou's name before, so I knew about it," Shano said. "So, you're here to represent the Isshin Dojo in this year's swordsmanship tournament?"
"No, no, no, I'm not capable of representing Mr. Genshirou."
The boy quickly waved his hands in panic, as though afraid of tarnishing the Isshin Dojo's reputation. "Besides, the Asakiyama Island swordsmanship tournament doesn't accept outside disciples. Only registered dojos on the island are eligible."
"As for my other identity…"
He suddenly seemed to wake up, hurriedly bowing, "Ah! I haven't introduced myself, how rude! My name is Seiji Sakura, the current headmaster of the Sakura Dojo on the island."
Dojo headmaster?
Shano finally noticed that the boy, Seiji, had the emblem of a faded family crest embroidered on the sleeves and left chest of his kendo uniform.
Though washed out and unclear, it still vaguely resembled a blooming cherry blossom.
"What a coincidence," Shano said, offering a light handshake as a greeting. "Shall we move to a different place to talk?"
…
At a commoners' tavern in the southwest of the city.
"Two glasses of Binks' Brew, please."
"Four thousand Beli."
Clink! Shano laid two large bills on the counter with flair, taking his drinks and moving to a corner.
He still hadn't spent the 50,000 Beli that Belmer had given him, as most of it had gone toward food and lodging aboard the Gato ship, but after the whole encounter with the sea king, he hadn't spent a single coin.
So his funds were still fairly ample.
"No, no, no, I'm only fifteen." Seiji seemed a bit uncomfortable. He had never been to a tavern before. "Isn't it inappropriate for someone underage to drink?"
"It's fine, the alcohol content is low." Shano replied casually, focusing on the glass in his hand. This was his first time seeing this renowned drink.
Binks' Brew wasn't just a song—it was also a famous alcoholic drink in the East Sea.
A mix of rum, white wine, and orange juice, it created a refreshing taste that was widely popular.
The alcohol content was around ten percent, so it was unlikely to get you drunk.
"Oh?"
Seiji clumsily grasped the glass with both hands, watching the liquid inside sway, and, unable to resist, tilted his head back and took a large sip.
At that moment, Shano leisurely spoke:
"By the way, I'm thirteen, a little younger than you."
Pfft—
Before he even had a chance to taste the drink, Seiji spat it out, not even caring about the waste. He stared across the table at Shano, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Thirteen years old?
"Why are you so surprised?"
Shano leisurely tasted the sweet, icy drink, his eyes narrowing in satisfaction.
This was a real shame. If it weren't for those sailors who had tricked him into drinking that night, he might still be a good boy who didn't touch alcohol.
"Anyway, let's talk about your situation."
He set down his glass, focusing on the still-stunned Seiji. "Let me guess… your family's dojo has fallen on hard times?"
There was no need to guess.
That worn-out kendo uniform couldn't possibly belong to a rich young master indulging in cosplay.
"Yes, I'm ashamed to admit it."
Seiji lowered his head, his voice mumbled. "My father was once the strongest swordsman on Asakiyama Island. The Sakura Dojo he founded was the most prestigious on the island."
"But… ever since my father passed away five years ago, the dojo has been suppressed by the other dojos on the island. My senior brothers left one by one, and eventually, even the land of the dojo was taken by the creditors. If not for Mr. Genshirou taking me in, I might have starved to death at sea by now."