He Gave Far Too Much...

The Shimada Family was not afraid of failure.

He was merely afraid that outsiders would discover how his grandfather had sold off an ancestral blade and casually stuffed a piece of wood in its place. That was why he wanted to find an opportunity to get rid of it. It was a very complicated process.

The whole process was divided into several steps, and it took Hoshino quite a while to sort them out.

First, she had to act as the challenger, defeat the current family head, Shimada Zenzō, after "a hard-fought battle," and take away the Flood Dragon Cutter.

More importantly, after the battle, she had to nod approvingly at the Shimada Family's swordsmanship.

That way, all the blame would be shifted onto Hoshino. In exchange, the Shimada Family, which had long wanted to transfer its assets and leave Lungmen for somewhere no one knew them, could finally conduct business in peace, free from all those irritating samurai legends.

But under no circumstances could they lose face.

Zenzō waved his hand grandly. "I've already transferred most of the assets. This mountain was my grandfather's peculiar hobby. I'd rather live in a high-rise apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows than stay in this godforsaken place, so I'll give it to the shrine maiden."

"?"

No, wasn't that way too lavish?

"Don't be surprised. The family's dignity is worth this much money. Only by making an exit like this can I keep Grandfather and Father from visiting me in my dreams from hell."

Shimada Zenzō wiped away some sweat.

It was already difficult enough to cut someone with a wooden sword. On top of that, he had to conceal his intentions like the shadows and move so fast that no one could distinguish the blade's material. That was simply beyond the ability of an ordinary person, practically within the realm of Originium Arts. That was why the Shimada Family had entrusted the task of finding someone to the Rat King. On his own, he could never gather all of Lungmen's swordsmanship experts, let alone obtain complete information on them.

People were hard to find.

But since someone had been found, she had to be the most suitable candidate.

Shimada Zenzō showed complete trust in the Rat King and the network of connections he represented. That trust had been built through the latter's repeated resolution of troubles and accumulation of favors, much like the talent this mobile city itself had recommended to him.

After hearing the complicated terms, Hoshino felt there was no problem with them. Just as she was about to nod in agreement, the client interrupted her again.

"I'd like... to see the master's swordsmanship."

Zenzō spoke anxiously.

Compared to the previous complicated demands, Hoshino found this request far more reasonable. She stepped forward and accepted the wooden sword, sheathed it, and held it beneath her left hand. Her entire body suddenly tensed. She lowered herself like a fully drawn bowstring as fierce wind and thunder silently gathered within the sheath.

A grave presence flowed through the castle keep.

Zenzō waited for the shrine maiden's dazzling draw, but it never came. She simply stood there. As he watched her beautiful drawing stance, his mood gradually grew heavier, as if a massive stone were pressing down inside him.

"That'll do."

Hoshino abruptly withdrew her stance, straightened up, and stared at the top of Zenzō's head.

Zenzō touched his head. His formerly neat topknot had suddenly been severed, and the hair tied with a thin cord dropped to the ground with an awkward plop.

Silence.

Draw, slash, sheath.

By the time he came back to his senses, he was standing there with his hair loose around his shoulders, utterly unaware that he had already taken a strike.

"Uh... Shrine Maiden, your blade is incredibly fast."

His expression was somewhat ugly.

The topknot had been only five or six centimeters from the top of his head.

If a wooden sword could shave his head without a sound while maintaining such restraint and elegance, then using that same elegant stance to sever his head probably would not be difficult either.

He felt the danger. His impatient insistence on meeting her in person had been somewhat unwise.

But outwardly, he still acted like any other Higashi man who valued etiquette, bowing to Hoshino as he said:

"The Shimada Family's final glory is entrusted to you."

"I accept."

The handover was a lengthy process. For one thing, Hoshino still had to take several publicity photos fit for the front page of the newspapers—Yae Sakura cradling the renowned Flood Dragon Cutter in her hands, with the lighting crew shining light from behind. The harsh light shrouded her entire face in shadow, making even the gentlest features look cold and sinister.

Hoshino looked at the finished shots. She looked exactly like some villainous side character.

"Is this really necessary?"

From the photo alone, she could already imagine what role she had supposedly played in this nonexistent duel—she must have used some utterly despicable move to defeat the master swordsman, or else she would not look so lacking in grace.

This photo would be on tomorrow's front page.

The Shimada Family truly deserved to be called merchants. They had mastered the art of capital operations. News never exploded across Lungmen without reason; it needed an unseen hand behind the scenes. Most people did not think for themselves. They believed whatever they heard.

This news would damage her image.

But in exchange, Zenzō had a sign reading [Yae Shrine] put up for Hoshino. It was huge and eye-catching, and it looked exceptionally divine at a glance.

There was more than just the plaque—there were statues of gods, torii gates...

It couldn't be helped.

He gave far too much.

Lungmen Guard Department, temporary office tent.

The repair work was nearing its end. Before long, the officers working in tents would return to spacious, brightly lit offices. Yet Ch'en, a senior superintendent, did not look remotely relieved. She sat on a stool with a face as dark as water, her dragon tail twitching wildly as if in a spasm.

"Hiss—"

She clenched her teeth and slowly exhaled through the gaps, the sound almost like a sigh of amazement.

Ch'en was reading today's newspaper.

Unexpectedly, she spotted an acquaintance on the front page. That pale pink shrine maiden had thoroughly seized her attention in an extreme fashion.

Suppressed emotions began to accumulate.

Some things did not disappear with the passage of time. They piled up in one's heart. Either they caused menstrual irregularities from prolonged pent-up anger, or they erupted completely and chopped that shrine maiden into pieces.

Her fingers lightly tapped the tabletop.

Faster and faster.

The tapping sounded like drumbeats, resonating with Ch'en's heartbeat as though a horn of war had been sounded...

"Oh? Sulking, are we?"

Swire suddenly leaned over and asked in a provocative tone.

"Don't bother me. I'm in a terrible mood right now. You won't want to start insulting each other with me."

Ch'en stopped tapping the table and spoke each word clearly. When someone spoke like that, it generally meant she was suppressing her anger and was about to lose control. The slightest provocation could make her explode instantly.

"Did you see today's news? That Cautus shrine maiden is pretty cute."

"Get lost!"

What followed was a shouting match. Vulgarities flew wildly through the tent like blades, spears, swords, and halberds. A senior superintendent educated in a Victoria school and a young lady from a wealthy family—even their sarcastic barbs sounded more refined than most people's.

"Stop arguing, stop arguing."

Hoshiguma laughed as she tried to mediate, then pointed at the newspaper as though she had discovered a new continent. "She got the Flood Dragon Cutter, the legendary sharp blade that can slay dragons..."

"Old Ch'en, aren't you a dragon?"