Advancement and Undercurrent

"Hey! Why are you still here! Come with me quickly!"

"What's the rush? I haven't finished watching this match yet."

"Stop messing around, a monster appeared in the southwest corner! They're already on the fifth round, and all his opponents in the previous four rounds were defeated in one move!"

"Huh? One move! Is that for real!"

"He's super strong, anyway! Just follow me, hurry, hurry, or we won't be able to get through the crowd!"

Similar conversations were happening all over the plaza.

As if drawn by a magnet, the spectators began to flock to the southwest corner in large numbers. Unknowingly, the areas around most of the other stages became deserted.

And in the center of this throng.

The black-haired youth leaned against the edge of the wooden platform, boredly picking at his ear.

"Is my next opponent not here yet?" he glanced at the referee.

"He'll be here any moment! Mr. Xianuo, please bear with us a little longer!" The referee, a young woman in her twenties with a high ponytail, replied hurriedly.

With the crowd growing, she felt hot and uncomfortable, sweat beading on her forehead, but a smile couldn't be suppressed from her lips. She was clearly in a great mood.

What luck!

It was her first time as a referee, and she got to oversee such a powerful swordsman. If she told the junior disciples back at the dojo, they'd be green with envy.

Having watched the previous four matches up close, she was already captivated by his god-like swordsmanship.

Moreover, this Mr. Xianuo was still very young. His swordsmanship was already so exceptional, what would he be like in the future?

Could it be that in a few years, she would personally witness another true sword master emerge from the East Blue?

"He's here!"

Her eyes suddenly lit up as she spotted a scar-faced swordsman approaching. She stood on tiptoe, waving frantically, "Mr. Qilin, over here, over here!"

The scar-faced swordsman's expression was cold, a cigar clenched in his lips, his entire being seemingly shrouded in shadow. He stepped onto the wooden platform without a word.

"Hey, it's Mr. Qilin, the vice-director of Falling Leaf Dojo, one of the Seven Great Dojos!"

A spectator recognized him and exclaimed in surprise.

"It really is him!"

"Wasn't he the runner-up in the Kendo Tournament five years ago?"

"A renowned swordsman like him is participating in the tournament again? Could it be... he still hasn't forgotten the championship he didn't win back then?"

The vice-director of a dojo? Runner-up five years ago?

On the wooden platform, Xianuo heard these discussions.

His gaze, narrowed as he looked at the scar-faced swordsman, finally carried a hint of seriousness.

This guy... he's different from the previous weaklings. Just by his aura, he looks formidable.

If nothing unexpected happens, this opponent should be the most noteworthy in the entire Kendo Tournament--

"I forfeit."

A hoarse voice drifted out with the smoke.

"Alright, it seems both sides are ready, so... huh? Huh??"

The ponytail girl turned to the scar-faced swordsman, her eyes wide with disbelief, "Mr. Qilin, what did you say?"

The surrounding commotion ceased, and the astonished gazes of the spectators focused on Qilin.

Clack, the sound of a bamboo sword being dropped aside. Qilin blew a smoke ring and waved his hand casually, "Don't look at me like that. I saw this kid's third-round match just now."

"With such terrifying swordsmanship, I admit I'm no match for him. I'm already old. Instead of being sent flying and making a fool of myself, it's better to save some face."

"I... is that so..."

The ponytail girl started to say something more.

But Qilin had already stepped off the wooden platform, his cigar-smoking silhouette disappearing into the crowd, vanishing quickly.

Xianuo withdrew his gaze, looking at the bamboo sword that had fallen at his feet. He frowned almost imperceptibly, then bent down and picked it up.

"This can be considered a trophy. I'll take it, is that okay?"

"Huh?" The ponytail girl blinked, then quickly nodded, "Of course, it's fine. Mr. Qilin dropped it himself, so you can do whatever you want with it."

"Good."

Xianuo placed the bamboo sword alongside his own and tucked them both into his waistband.

The ponytail girl took a deep breath, suppressing her excitement, and stepped onto the wooden platform, announcing loudly:

"Preliminary Round Five, Xianuo versus Qilin. The final result is a victory for Xianuo!"

"Hereby, I also announce on behalf of the Kendo Tournament organizing committee that Mr. Xianuo has won all five rounds! There is no need to participate in the revival elimination rounds. He has officially become the first contestant to advance and secure a spot in the top eight!"

The audience present had already been whispering amongst themselves, waiting for her to announce the news.

After a brief silence, deafening cheers of excitement erupted, filling the plaza—

"Xianuo! Xianuo! Xianuo!"

BANG!

In the spacious office, a middle-aged man dressed in luxurious clothing slammed his fist onto the desk, roaring in fury:

"This is the nobody you mentioned? A chance encounter? He was given the trickiest opponent in the draw and still won five rounds? This kind of strength is clearly the work of a powerful reinforcement hired by that brat from the Sakuraba family!"

"You were the one who called him a nobody, boss."

The tall, slender swordsman wearing a White Fox mask said calmly.

"Huh? Was it? ... No! Is that the point! How dare you talk back!"

The middle-aged man froze for a moment, then flew into a rage, grabbing the ashtray on the desk and hurling it.

"It was also based on your intel that I made the wrong analysis! Tell me, what do we do about this kid who's this strong!"

"And that Qilin! Wasn't he still holding a grudge about not winning the championship back then? I thought he was here for revenge, but I didn't expect him to be a complete coward! He doesn't even have the courage to step onto the stage for a match!"

"..." The tall, slender swordsman remained silent, his expression unreadable behind the mask.

The middle-aged man's anger had not subsided, and he remembered something else:

"Right, what about that brat from the Sakuraba family? Is his match not over yet? How's his record?"

"Four wins and one loss in five matches. He lost to another championship favorite, but he has a spot in the losers' bracket and should advance to the quarterfinals later if nothing unexpected happens."

The middle-aged man became even more agitated. He stood up and paced back and forth in the office.

"No! We absolutely cannot let the championship fall into the hands of the Sakuraba family. Otherwise, the Sakuraba Dojo's reputation will rise again, and if they make a comeback, it'll be a hassle to deal with them again..."

"Hey, White Fox!"

He suddenly turned his head, staring at the tall, slender swordsman, and said coldly:

"The qualifiers haven't ended yet. You go and participate immediately. You must secure one of the eight spots. Right now, only you have the strength to keep the championship trophy in our own hands!"

The tall, slender swordsman frowned slightly.

"Didn't we agree that I would only operate behind the scenes and wouldn't have to publicly reveal myself for this kind of work?"

"Isn't this situation forcing our hand? Besides you, who else can reliably stop those two kids? Of course, mainly Xianuo. Whether the Sakuraba brat can defeat the other qualified contestants is still up in the air."

The middle-aged man in luxurious attire sneered, "Besides, you don't have to take off your mask. You can use your current alias, or wear a different mask, whatever. Who would be able to guess who you are?"

"..."

The tall, slender swordsman was silent for a long time, then finally nodded.

"Go, hurry up!"

The middle-aged man waved his hand. As the tall, slender swordsman's back was about to disappear out the door, he suddenly spoke:

"Say, White Fox, you won't go soft and go back on our agreement from back then, will you? Betray me?"

The footsteps outside the door paused.

"...Asking that when you already know the answer is pointless."

A voice devoid of emotion came from outside.

"Haha, it's good that you know!"

The middle-aged man threw his head back and laughed heartily, "Don't forget! How terrifying my ability is. It's not something you ordinary people can resist!"

Southeast area of the plaza.

"What's wrong? Mr. Xianuo?"

Junyi had just stepped off the wooden stage amidst the cheers, his excitement still lingering, when Xianuo pulled him aside. He couldn't help but ask in confusion.

"It's nothing."

Xianuo smiled and said, "First of all, congratulations on easily passing the losers' bracket and qualifying. However, the quarterfinals don't start until one in the afternoon, so there's still time. How about we go grab a meal first?"

"Eat now?"

Junyi scratched his head, not yet fully recovered, when Xianuo forcibly grabbed him and pulled him by the arm towards the outer edge of the plaza.

After leaving the plaza and taking many turns down winding alleys, Xianuo finally stopped.

He tossed a bamboo sword he was holding to Junyi, who was full of confusion.

"This is..."

Junyi held up the bamboo sword and looked at it for a long time before noticing a line of small characters carved into it, "Eleven o'clock sharp, second floor of the Wisteria Restaurant?"

"This was given to me by my fifth-round opponent, Qilin, the vice-captain of the Falling Leaf Dojo," Xianuo said, frowning. "It seems like he wants to talk to us privately about something. Do you know this guy?"

"Vice-captain? Qilin?"

Junyi racked his brain, searching hard for half a day.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he clapped his fist into his palm:

"I remember now! You said the Vice Hall Master didn't ring a bell, but this name, I saw it five years ago!"

"That year, when Father was still alive, he was in charge of preparing and hosting that Kendo Tournament. He always brought a list home."

"The list had the names of swordsmen who had voluntarily signed up for the tournament but couldn't afford to come. Father specifically allocated funds to sponsor their travel and accommodation one by one. Qilin was among them!"

"A list? You were only ten that year. Are you sure you remember correctly?"

"I'm not mistaken!"

Junyi nodded affirmatively. "I only looked at that list carefully twice. If it were other names, I wouldn't be so sure, but this name is too special and memorable, so I still have an impression of it."

"Looking at it this way, the most reasonable guess is that you... no, it should be our ally?"

Xianuo mused.

Recalling Qilin's direct withdrawal from the competition and the two cups of still-warm coffee from that morning, he twisted his neck, his bones cracking.

"Then let's go meet him and hear what Mr. Qilin has to tell us. But we can't let our guard down. Bring the sword."