Yun Lan accepted the 1,000,000 personal points transferred by Sato, the Kendo Club president.
"These points," he said, his voice echoing faintly through the empty dojo, "I'll accept. A promise is a promise."
The air grew tense. Several second- and third-years flushed with humiliation.
"But—" Yun Lan raised his eyes and calmly met President Sato's sharp gaze. "Kendo should be a way of uniting mind, technique, and body—a discipline devoted to purity and honor. By using points as a wager and tying victory to profit, I've already tarnished that honor in essence."
He paused, then spoke clearly, one word at a time:
"So in my eyes, the ones who remain truly pure are still all of you upperclassmen, who sweat here every day, without asking what you might gain or lose, striving only to improve. What you protect is what kendo should be."
President Sato slowly held his bamboo sword upright at his side. The tall, rugged third-year showed no anger now, only a complicated expression that had settled into place. He stepped forward and sat formally in front of Yun Lan. The two faced each other from a distance of three paces.
"Yun Lan," President Sato said in a low voice, still hoarse from their match. "You're right, but not entirely."
As he spoke, President Sato leaned forward slightly, like a beast sizing up another of its kind:
"You've tarnished the outward form of honor, but you've shown the 'truth' at kendo's core—absolute strength, absolute analysis, absolute victory. So, even though I don't like your methods..."
President Sato suddenly tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was a stiff, no-nonsense smile, but one that carried a swordsman's approval:
"I recognize your strength, junior."
A faint stir went through the dojo. Several upperclassmen who had been seething froze, watching their usually proud president personally acknowledge a first-year who had squeezed points out of them by "underhanded" means.
Yun Lan fell silent for a moment, then bowed deeply. After that, he left the Kendo Club.
The dojo remained silent for a long time as they watched Yun Lan walk away.
President Sato rose and surveyed the room, his voice booming once more:
"Everyone! Add three thousand sword swings to today's training! We'll show that kid who looks down on honor that the 'truth' of kendo isn't just about seeing through your opponent. It's also about a conviction forged in sweat—one that can never be seen through!"
"Yes, sir!"
Their shouts shook the dojo's eaves.
Next, Yun Lan went through the Karate Club, Kyudo Club, and Judo Club in the same way, sweeping them all.
When he had successfully challenged the last club, Yun Lan locked his phone. The screen went dark, reflecting his expressionless face.
"Leave a little room for others, and you'll meet again someday," he murmured. His voice faded into the night breeze beyond the window.
Of course, he could wring them dry. But resentment would grow like weeds and eventually turn against him. He didn't want a group of enemies, stripped of everything and nursing bitter hatred. He wanted a web woven from "unwillingness to accept defeat" and "curiosity."
"Even the strongest person has limits..." Yun Lan gazed out the window. The lights of the club building reflected in his dark eyes like scattered stars. "A strong team, on the other hand, is limitless. And teams often begin with unequal deals and connections that can't easily be severed."
His phone vibrated. Honami Ichinose sent him a message:
"I'm here. Where are you? It's really windy...(;′⌒`)"
Yun Lan's lips curved into a faint smile as he quickly replied:
"Look up, at the easternmost window on the third floor."
He saw the chestnut-haired girl by a bench in the central courtyard below. Just as he'd expected, she looked up in his direction. The streetlights edged her in a soft halo. She lifted one hand in a small wave, while the other clutched a scarf she seemed to have brought against the cold.
Yun Lan left the window and headed for the stairs. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as he passed club rooms that were still lit, each filled with the sounds of a different kind of practice. The places he had "reaped" now seemed to have become part of his invisible domain.
He didn't look back.
True reaping had never meant taking everything. It meant planting seeds and nurturing the soil, letting everything grow along a controlled path, then harvesting the whole forest when the time came.
And now, he had a more important object of "cultivation" to meet.
A warm breeze swept through the corridor, stirring the hem of his uniform. Yun Lan's stride was steady and measured, like the moves in the games of strategy he'd laid out: each step accounted for the present while paving the way for the future. Points flowed between accounts, people's hearts shifted in the contest, and he would walk among them, weaving his own silent, unyielding web.
What Yun Lan didn't know was that word had still gotten out: the same person had successfully challenged every club.
Students from the various clubs chatted in the club building.
"You got challenged too? Don't tell me it was a first-year?"
"Wait, you too? Seriously? Sato from the Kendo Club, Ushijima from the Karate Club, and Kanzaki from the Kyudo Club... They all lost?"
"That's not all! The Judo Club, the Shogi Club, even the Tea Ceremony Club! I heard the Poetry Appreciation Club didn't escape either!"
"Is he a monster?! Martial arts, board games, sports, the arts... Is there anything he can't do?"
"What a demon king... Yun Lan, the first-year 'demon king.'"
Meanwhile, Yun Lan was having dinner with Honami Ichinose in the cafeteria when she told him the news had spread.
Honami Ichinose said to Yun Lan, "Brother Lan, it seems like everyone's talking about it now. You've become the center of attention for all three years with that 'demon king' nickname."
Yun Lan leaned back in his chair, his expression calm and detached.
"What's coming will come. A reputation is a double-edged sword. Used well, it can serve as armor, or even a weapon." He looked out the window, his gaze seeming to pass through the evening sun and reach some deeper part of the campus. "As for the confidentiality clause in the contract... the contract ended a while ago. So they haven't breached it. The clause said they had to keep it confidential until I finished sweeping through the clubs. So they haven't broken their promise."
Yun Lan stood and picked up his coat from the back of his chair. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your dorm. It's getting late."
Honami stood too and came to his side. They walked out of the cafeteria together and stepped into the cool breeze. The setting sun stretched their shadows long, weaving them together.
Yun Lan thought to himself: A reputation is a blade. It can wound its wielder, but it can wound the enemy too. And he was the one wielding it, keenly aware of every ounce of its weight and every inch of its edge. The whirlpool had already formed, and he was standing at its calmest—and deadliest—center: the eye of the storm.
Outside the cafeteria, the setting sun stretched his shadow far behind him, across the campus grounds he had quietly stirred and would ultimately reshape.
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