Chapter 206

“Huh…”

The ghastly time of wringing my mind out finally came to an end, and Michisige trudged back with a droopy body.

Normally, his warriors would have come to pick him up in a carriage, but…

“Hehehe.”

Now that the dojo of Yatadoarangkryu lay in ruins, there was no warrior to do that.

No, they probably couldn’t do it even if they wanted to.

“Hehe…”

The warriors who had tried to wield armed force on the first day were caught by the police. They were likely being dragged off while receiving electric treatment and going through all kinds of hardships in complete confinement.

The warriors who knew of the ‘slaughterhouse’ had been taken by the Onmyoji. Without a doubt, they were being tortured horrifically to extract information about the magic performed there and what could be accomplished with that magic.

And those fortunate enough to not get captured had probably fled far away, avoiding journalists and angry citizens. After all, how many could endure the reporters barging into their homes, taking pictures of them eating and sleeping while hurling irritating questions, or the furious citizens crowded around, throwing all sorts of graffiti and insults?

Yeah.

Yatadoarangkryu was…

The place he had nurtured his entire life was…

“It’s over. Everything is over…”

Where did it all go wrong? What on earth was the problem?

Holding onto his trembling soul, Michisige stumbled on, finally arriving at his dojo—a place once familiar, now transformed into nothing short of a wasteland.

“What on earth did I do wrong…?”

What met his eyes was not the dojo teeming with life and energy but a haunted house bearing the ghastly appearance as if ghosts had taken over. People had all vanished, leaving behind a chilling silence, and many predators including journalists, police, inspectors, Onmyoji, and onlookers had caused damage throughout.

Profanities were scribbled on the walls, and anything that could be of value had been smashed or torn apart. Signs of arson were scattered everywhere, marking where havoc had been wreaked. To make matters worse, it looked as if they had freely roamed inside, leaving behind bottles of alcohol and half-eaten food, alongside the remains of what looked to be a drunken person’s filth and excrement, stinking up the place.

Moreover, animal dolls hanging by their necks seemed to mock him, and numerous items embodying the history of Yatadoarangkryu lay shattered.

“Are they warriors or a quasi-terrorist group? What secrets does Yatadoarangkryu hold?!”

“Yatadoarangkryu has always been a flawed existence!”

“Is the rumored connection to the Yakuza merely a shell for a criminal organization?!”

“A certain professor stated, ‘The roots of Yatadoarangkryu may lie in the Burakumin involved in the slaughter industry.'”

Additionally, a newspaper mocking Yatadoarangkryu was plastered atop the wreckage.

It seemed to say, “This is all you’re worth, so here, enjoy this mockery instead.”

“No… No way…”

Michisige muttered, glancing at the newspaper.

“We are Burakumin?! No way!”

BANG!

Unable to contain his anger any longer, he struck the wall where the newspaper was affixed with all his might. His fist imbued with mana smashed through the wall, shredding the newspaper to pieces.

“How dare you! How dare you insinuate that the great hero of war and a warrior from a noble clan is rooted in mere Burakumin!”

KABOOM!

BANG!

His fury unabated, he began to dash around, smashing things left and right. The wall, marked with insults, cracked open as his mana-soaked nails tore through it, while the scattered filth and trash were shredded apart by his mana acting like a whip. Anything that remained wasn’t spared; instead, he exploded them into dust with his mana.

After a long rampage, Michisige finally stopped demolishing everything.

“Hah—hah…!”

Suppressing his wildly racing heart, he exhaled hot breaths and rubbed at his numb neck. Once a semblance of calm returned, he contemplated the question that had previously surfaced.

“Where did it all go wrong?”

What exactly was the issue? What led to this catastrophe?

“Money?”

Yatadoarangkryu was learning martial arts that required money. Unlike others who could just bask in the natural qi, to efficiently cultivate mana, sacrifices were necessary.

Unlike the old days, where they could just grab people to offer up during wartime or afterward, now, only animals could be sacrificed, and they had to avoid drawing attention even for that. So instead of raising animals outright, they pivoted to secretly breeding them underground, thus efficiently nurturing them and periodically sucking up mana.

Naturally, doing this required money.

An enormous amount of money, in fact.

Money for feeding the animals, maintaining and repairing facilities, for equipment and medications to discreetly handle blood and flesh, and the funds necessary to operate the dojo.

Money.

Money.

Money!

Everything revolved around money and costs.

Because of that, Yatadoarangkryu exhibited rather greedy and secular behavior compared to other sects. They approached power holders to gain protection and actively placed warriors into security companies. With the information and opportunities they garnered from them, they delicately navigated the boundaries of legal and illegal, amassing fortunes. Furthermore, they delved into magic to enhance mana efficiency, even practicing the rituals brought back by ancestors who operated in Polynesia during the Greater East Asia War.

Though some people suffered or died in the process…

What did that matter?

Isn’t that just how the world works?

When someone sacrifices, many live well on that sacrifice.

When someone sheds tears, that becomes nourishment for others’ happiness.

What’s wrong with that?

It’s what everyone does.

The whole world does it. Every single human does it.

He simply did what everyone does.

“It’s unjust.”

Furthermore, he didn’t just rampage recklessly.

As proof, Yatadoarangkryu seamlessly integrated into the community.

Whenever a natural disaster struck, the warriors would actively help people, and as much as they greedily sucked in money, they didn’t turn a blind eye to the suffering of locals being tormented by outside thugs. They even routinely sent warriors to patrol the villages, preventing fires or catching robbers, effectively performing social contributions.

Thus, Yatadoarangkryu was accepted by all, recognized as a member of the “community.”

Yet.

Yet!

“It’s unjust!”

It’s unfair.

It’s painfully unfair.

Heart ripped into shreds, blood vessels bursting with overwhelming resentment!

The cries of vengeance filled him as his brain felt like it was splitting!

Tears streamed down Michisige’s face from the unfairness.

Biting his lips until they bled and moving his limbs despite their tingling, tears flowed incessantly like a broken faucet, the salty taste of his tears weaving into the cracks of his lips, swirling on his tongue.

Just when he felt as if his tongue might go numb from the continuous influx of salty tears, he finally couldn’t contain the boiling emotions any longer and dialed a number.

[“…Yes. You’ve reached us.”]

To one of the masterminds behind this situation.

To Master Taishiro.

“What the hell! What the hell did I do to deserve this?!”

As soon as the master picked up, he poured out the volcano of emotions simmering within him.

“Have I committed a grave sin? Why would you do this to me? Don’t you have the slightest respect as a warrior, or even as someone belonging to the same branch? Why did you do this——-!!!”

Yet the master’s response was chillingly cold.

[“Ha…”]

It was an emotionless tone, as if he had transported a piece of Arctic ice, only heavy and sinking in darkness, devoid of the fury Michisige felt.

[“Really, are you asking me because you don’t know?”]

“Yes! I have no clue! What crime did I commit for this to happen!”

[“First, let me ask you. Why did you obtain your wealth through defiled means…”]

“Wealth? Defiled? What does that have to do with anything! Everyone does it! Everyone does it without a care! Why is it defiled when everyone uses the same methods? I just did what everyone else is doing! If everyone else is doing it and I don’t, then I’d be a fool! I’m not a fool, and I just wanted to accumulate money!”

[“You’ve become a fool instead. Thanks to you, there are victims…”]

“Victims? If you want to avoid being victimized, then be stronger! If you were strong, instead of being eaten, you would’ve devoured instead! Instead of being prey that fills the stomachs of many, you would’ve become an ally! How is it my fault that those who were victimized are weak? Their weakness is to blame, and their incapacity is their enemy!”

[“Are you serious?”]

“Ha. Isn’t that just how nature works? Why ask me as if it’s a fault! Survival of the fittest! The strong devour the weak and grow stronger; isn’t that the truth?!”

Mana speaks.

“Devour the weak and grow fat.

Kill the strong and absorb their strength.

Gather mana for even stronger mana.

Kill the formidable to pursue even greater strength.”

“And what about it? Did I run amok for no reason? Was I greedy for something I shouldn’t have? No! I didn’t commit any wrongdoing!”

[“…You truly mean that.”]

The master behind the smartphone murmured quietly, as if suppressing emotions, before responding in a decisively blunt manner.

[“Hiramoto Michisige, Master Kazuo has a message for you.”]

“What?”

[“The Grandmaster says you have crossed the line.”]

Crossed the line.

At those words, Michisige seemed to choke, erupting in rage.

“Line? That damn line! What is that line supposed to be?!”

[“The line refers to that which must never be crossed. And you have gloriously crossed it. It has become impossible to protect you for being a branch that separated from Shiheng Style.”]

“Ha, ha, ha, ha!”

BANG!

“Crossed the line? And now because I crossed that line, you’ve cleaved off the lineage of an entire sect’s martial arts like this?! Instead of preserving it, you stab me in the back, drag my honor through the mud, and humiliate me—this is how you repay me?!”

Michisige thundered, smashing the wall as he screamed.

However, in response, the master let out a deep sigh as if drained of all energy.

[“It seems communication is impossible. Let me finish my words.”]

Then rapidly, as though disinclined to get entangled, he spoke clearly and slowly so they would stick.

[“The Grandmaster says that if you wish to die as a warrior, you should commit seppuku.”]

“What…?”

[“I will hang up now.”]

Click.

The call abruptly ended.

However, even after the call was cut off, the master’s last words echoed in his mind, drilling in the single term repeatedly.

“Seppuku.”

A self-inflicted method of dying by disemboweling oneself, a way for a warrior to “honorably” die.

“Ha.”

That’s right.

An ultimate struggle to die honorably, a death made to safeguard the warrior’s pride.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha! You want me to kill myself! You want me to commit seppuku!”

He began to move, laughing maniacally, his shaky body weaving forward.

He followed where his instincts led.

Toward the place where he had once thrived as Yatadoarangkryu, now laid bare in the full light of day and diminishing in glory.

He walked on the floor now sticky from congealed blood and bumped against an empty hook once filled with animals, staggering down into the depths.

“Commit seppuku, commit seppuku.”

Step.

Step.

“Huh, hehehe. Yeah. They must mean this when they say I’m set free. These cruel bastards, the detestable children of humanity… telling me to commit seppuku.”

Step.

“Do you think I’m going to die for you? Do you think I’ll die on your terms? Seppuku? Hehe, what a load of nonsense… How many warriors keep such things…?”

Thus, he headed toward the barn once full of animals.

The place where they made sacrifices.

And now, the very place he was destined to be offered up.

---