Clink—smack!
A coin was flicked into the air by a thumb, tossed upward, then caught steadily as it fell. This repeated over and over.
Xia Nuo strolled through the streets in the evening gloom. The rhythm of the coin rising and falling gradually fell into step with his footsteps.
"Hmm?"
He suddenly raised his head.
Not far away, a huge pale-pink banner hung above the city gate. It bore the words: "The 25th Swordsmanship Tournament of Asagiri Island."
A public noticeboard stood to the left, surrounded by a bustling crowd.
"Excuse me. Thanks."
Relying on his sturdy, powerful physique, Xia Nuo easily parted the crowd and made his way to the noticeboard.
"You damn—"
Several youths who looked like thugs had been shoved aside. They were furious and turned around, ready to pick a fight, but after seeing the muscular, imposing back before them, they silently returned to their places.
"The Kendo Tournament? Any disciple of a swordsmanship dojo may participate. The registration fee is ten thousand Beli, and registration closes tomorrow."
"Making it to the semifinals earns you one million Beli, and the champion gets five million?"
The rewards were pretty good. Xia Nuo was genuinely tempted.
Unfortunately, his swordsmanship was atrocious. It would be better not to display it and make a fool of himself.
More importantly, he had to find a ship to the Goa Kingdom first thing tomorrow morning. Who knew how long the tournament would last? If it took a week or even half a month, he simply didn't have the time.
Xia Nuo shook his head and was about to cross the drawbridge and enter the city to find an inn.
Suddenly, beside the city wall, he saw the frail youth in the tattered kendō uniform again. The boy was staring blankly up at the banner, clutching a bamboo sword tightly in his hand, his eyes dull and lifeless.
Now he could return the money to its rightful owner.
"Here. Your money. Keep it safe."
A cold, hard object was suddenly stuffed into his hand. The frail youth paused, then looked up at the burly man whose age he found difficult to determine.
"What are you..."
The frail youth spread open his palm, seemingly still unable to react. Only after recognizing the familiar coins did he understand. He muttered, "Another scammer...?"
"You don't seem surprised at all?" Xia Nuo raised his eyebrows. "Then I suppose it's my turn to be surprised."
"Ah, I can more or less guess what happened."
The frail youth continued staring at his palm. "After all, this is my mother's hometown, and I lived here for several years when I was young. I've heard a thing or two about the ways of those professional beggars."
"Then why did you give him money?"
"...There are real poor people, after all. What if it helped?"
"Your spirit is admirable, but that old man was obviously suspicious. Your ability to tell them apart seems to need some improvement."
"...Yes. I had little contact with the outside world growing up, so my life experience is a complete mess. My teacher has said the same thing about me."
"Your teacher?"
Xia Nuo's gaze shifted to the boy's bamboo sword. Its hilt was wrapped in tattered cloth, clearly showing that it had been used for a long time. "A swordsmanship teacher?"
"Mm, yes. You may not have heard of him."
At the mention of this, the frail youth finally raised his head, his voice filled with reverence.
"But Mr. Koshiro is absolutely an extraordinary swordsman! Becoming his disciple is the proudest thing in my life!"
Koshiro?
Xia Nuo froze. He had only come to return a few coins, yet he had gained an unexpected bonus?
Could this be what they meant by good people receiving good rewards?
His interest was instantly piqued. "So, you came here from the Isshin Dojo?"
"Huh? How did you know?" The other boy's eyes widened. "Have you been to Shimotsuki Village too?"
"Not yet."
Isn't that what I'm counting on you to take me to?
Shimotsuki Village had only been established a few years ago and had the air of a secluded paradise. It was even more remote than Cocoyasi Village.
Only a few merchant ships passed by throughout the year. Without a ship of one's own, it was difficult to get there.
Since the frail youth before him was Koshiro's disciple and had managed to come here, he must have a way to return. Xia Nuo only had to follow him.
Wasn't this month-long voyage meant for him to go around harvesting fat sheep?
If there was no opportunity, so be it. But with fate placing little fat sheep Zoro right in front of him, how could he possibly let him go?
"I heard of Mr. Koshiro before, so that's how I knew," Xia Nuo said. "So, you're here representing the Isshin Dojo to participate in this year's Kendo Tournament?"
"No, no, no! How could I possibly have the ability to represent Mr. Koshiro?"
The frail youth hurriedly waved his hands in alarm, as though afraid of tarnishing the Isshin Dojo's reputation. "Besides, the Kendo Tournament on Asagiri Island doesn't accept entries from outside disciples. Only dojos officially registered on the island are eligible."
"As for my other identity..."
He suddenly seemed to realize something and bowed deeply. "Ah! I haven't even told you my name. How rude of me! My name is Sakuraba Junichi, and I'm the current master of the Sakuraba Dojo on the island."
A dojo master?
Only then did Xia Nuo notice that the youth named Junichi had a faded family crest embroidered on the cuffs of his kendō uniform and over his left chest.
Although it had been washed until it was pale and blurry, one could still vaguely make out a blooming cherry blossom.
"Xia Nuo." He extended his hand and gave Junichi a light shake as a greeting. "Shall we talk somewhere else?"
Southwest of the city, inside an ordinary tavern.
"Two Binks' Brews, please."
"Four thousand Beli."
Smack! Xia Nuo pulled two large bills from his clothes and slapped them generously onto the counter. He took the drinks and went to a corner.
The fifty thousand Beli Bellemere had given him remained untouched. He should have spent nearly half of it on food and lodging aboard the Gatt, but because of the incident with the King of the Near Sea, he had not spent a single coin.
So, he was still fairly well-off.
"N-no, is this really all right? I'm only fifteen." Sakuraba Junichi was somewhat uneasy. He had never entered a tavern before. "Isn't it improper for a minor to drink?"
"It's fine. It's not very strong." Xia Nuo answered casually, his attention completely focused on the goblet in his hand. This was his first time seeing the famous drink.
Binks' Brew was more than just a song. The drink itself was also famous throughout the East Blue.
Rum, white wine, and orange juice were mixed in fixed proportions to create a refreshing taste. Its flavor was quite mild and widely appealing, which was why it was so popular.
As for its alcohol content, it seemed to be only around ten percent. It was difficult to get drunk on it.
Really?
Sakuraba Junichi awkwardly lifted the goblet with both hands. As he watched the liquid sway inside the glass, his mouth suddenly went dry. At last, he could not resist and tilted his head back to take a large gulp.
At that moment, Xia Nuo's unhurried voice rang out.
"By the way, I'm thirteen. I'm a little younger than you."
Pfft—
The drink, which had not yet reached his taste buds, sprayed out. Junichi did not even have time to feel sorry about it. He merely looked up at Xia Nuo across the round table, his eyes bulging.
This was thirteen?
"Why are you so surprised?"
Xia Nuo savored his drink. A mouthful of icy, sweet liquor slid down his throat, and he contentedly narrowed his eyes.
What a calamity. It was all because of those sailors who had egged him on and forced drinks down his throat that he had gone astray. Otherwise, he would still be a good teenager who never touched alcohol.
"Tell me about yourself."
He set down his glass and looked at Junichi, who was still in shock. "Let me guess... The dojo in your family has already fallen into decline, hasn't it?"
That hardly required any guessing.
That tattered kendō uniform could not possibly belong to a rich young master out playing dress-up.
"Yes. It's embarrassing to say."
Junichi lowered his head and murmured, "My father was once the strongest swordsman on Asagiri Island. The Sakuraba Dojo he founded was once the most prestigious dojo on the island."
"But... after my father passed away five years ago, the other dojos on the island joined forces to suppress us. My senior disciples left one after another, and in the end, even the dojo's land was taken by our creditors. If Teacher Koshiro hadn't taken me in, I might have starved to death at sea long ago."