Chapter 11: Actually, I Am Also Roughly Proficient in Swordsmanship

"For the next few years, I trained in swordsmanship at the Isshin Dojo. Teacher Teacher Gengsilang treated me very well, but I ultimately remained unwilling to accept the situation and continued dreaming of one day restoring the dojo."

"Especially a few months ago, when a guest from Light Cherry Island visited the teacher, I asked him about the Sakuraba Dojo, and that guest actually stared blankly for a long while; he had never even heard of it!"

"Such a thing, such a thing..."

Junichi clenched his fists tightly, his teeth grinding audibly with force. "I cannot accept it! If Father were still alive, how could this have happened? Back then, the Sakuraba family was known by everyone on Light Cherry Island; there was no one who did not know of us!"

"It's all my fault! I was too incompetent! Unable to take up my father's mantle and responsibilities, failing to become a swordsman capable of standing on my own, I allowed the dojo to fall into ruin and decline to this state!"

"Stop, stop, stop."

Siano felt goosebumps rising and quickly reached out to interrupt him.

"That's enough, really; I can't stand it. You're just a kid, yet you talk about 'responsibility' and 'restoring the dojo' with every other sentence. Let me ask you, how old were you when your father died?"

Why bring this up?

But Junichi answered honestly: "Ten years old."

"Then there's your answer." Siano spread his hands. "Didn't you say all your senior brothers ran away? If adults were powerless to change the situation, what could a ten-year-old child possibly do?"

"What's wrong with you, acting all dramatic, crying and wailing, taking all the blame upon yourself? Who are you trying to move? Are you some kind of masochist?"

"Remember, rather than exhausting yourself internally, it's better to exhaust others externally; otherwise, sooner or later you'll fall into endless anxiety, and who knows, you might end up hanging yourself one day."

Speaking like someone who had been through it all, he continued, "Your most urgent task is to honestly follow Teacher Teacher Gengsilang and train your swordsmanship well. When you're tired from training, curse loudly at those guys who ruined the dojo to vent your anger, then continue training. What 'your fault'? It's clearly all their fault!"

"..." Junichi froze.

This guy, clearly younger than himself, how could the things he said sound so philosophical?

"But my swordsmanship is already very strong..."

He spoke urgently, "I returned to Light Cherry Island this time specifically for the Kendo Tournament. I intend to win the championship and let those seven major dojos know that the Sakuraba family has not fallen! It's just that..."

"No money for the registration fee?" Siano glanced at him sideways.

"Yes."

Junichi hung his head in dejection, but the next moment his expression turned to anger. "You saw what was posted on the bulletin board, right? The registration fee alone is ten thousand Berries. The kendo uniforms and bamboo swords must also be purchased in their standardized style, and they are sold at exorbitant prices; altogether, it adds up to nearly twenty thousand Berries."

"Not to mention, only disciples under the seven major dojos are allowed to register. Outsider swordsmen have to find a way to spend money to join a dojo... It's sheer madness! So driven by greed and profit, yet they still have the audacity to call this the most authoritative kendo event in the East Blue..."

"Kendo, and the dojos that teach swordsmanship, should never be like this!"

Boom! Growing more agitated as he spoke, he couldn't resist slamming his fist on the table, shouting, "Why must the seven major dojos act this way! When the Sakuraba family originally founded the Kendo Tournament, they never charged fees; they even subsidized travel expenses for swordsmen who were short on funds. The atmosphere back then... how did it turn into this ugly state now? Do they not have even an ounce of a swordsman's honor and self-awareness!"

"So noisy! Really... you're making it impossible to hear the ladies talk. Shut your mouth, Laozi says so, you little brat!"

At a nearby table, a man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, who had been flirting with a hostess, slammed his hand down, rolled up his sleeves, stood up, and prepared to come over and beat someone up.

Siano turned his face coldly.

"My apologies, please continue."

The man with gold-rimmed glasses sat back down at light speed.

Junichi, however, realized his own loss of composure; he hurriedly stood up and bowed deeply to every other patron in the vicinity who had looked over.

After sitting back down, he kept his head lowered and said nothing more, though his tightly clenched fists trembled slightly.

"..." Siano quietly observed the frail youth before him, then suddenly spoke, "I need to confirm two things with you."

"Wh-what?" Junichi raised his head in confusion.

"The registration for the Kendo Tournament closes tomorrow, correct? When does the competition start, and how many days does the schedule last?"

"The competition starts the day after tomorrow. As for the schedule..." Junichi shook his head. "There is no multi-day schedule; everything is concluded within a single day. Preliminaries in the morning, semifinals in the afternoon, and the finals at night."

"So, it will only delay us for one day." Siano nodded. "Understood. The second thing: the Sakuraba Dojo is still on the official registered list, correct? We can register directly?"

"Yes." Junichi hesitated. "Actually, I don't understand either why the seven major dojos haven't removed the Sakuraba name yet; perhaps they fear it would create a bad impression, after all, the Kendo Tournament was founded single-handedly by my father..."

He suddenly realized something, lifting his head with a look of surprise and joy: "You... does this mean you are willing to lend me the money to help me register and participate?"

"No."

Siano shook his head, then thought for a moment before adding, "Lending it to you is fine, but my main intention is that perhaps you could grant me the status of a disciple of the Sakuraba Dojo, something like Vice-Director, so that I can also participate in this Kendo Tournament."

"Eh? You?!!"

"Why that look of suspicion? Be careful, or if I get unhappy, I might change my mind and not lend the money after all."

Siano placed his empty wine glass on the table, stood up with a slice of lemon held between his teeth, stretched lazily, and said with a smile, "There's one thing I forgot to tell you."

"Actually, I am also a swordsman who is roughly proficient in swordsmanship."

Half an hour later, at the registration office.

Tucking the newly purchased standard kendo uniform and brand-new bamboo sword under his elbow, Siano put away his wallet with a pained expression, then handed one set of each to Junichi Sakuraba.

"It's truly black-hearted."

On the way back to the inn, Siano cursed the seven major dojos again. "Just look at this fabric, this broken sword; the bamboo isn't even properly deburred, yet they dare to sell it for fifteen thousand Berries a set. Isn't this pure fraud? With the barrier set so high, why are so many people rushing here to get slaughtered?"

The fifty thousand Berries given by Bell-mère were instantly depleted.

If not for some spare change he had saved from before, he probably wouldn't even be able to afford an inn tonight, and the two of them would have to sleep on the street together.

"After all, the prize money is quite generous. Moreover, becoming the champion—or no, even just reaching the semifinals—is considered a tremendous honor for swordsmen of the East Blue."

Junichi followed closely at his side. "By then, several local newspapers from the East Blue will be present. The champion will instantly gain fame. Who doesn't harbor a dream of becoming famous? However..."

"However what?" Siano stopped walking and turned to look at him.

"However, I still very much doubt whether you are a true swordsman."

Junichi's tone was exceedingly sincere. "Mr. Siano... let's call you that for now. Although I am very grateful for your guidance and comfort, and for lending me such a large sum of money, you really don't look like a swordsman at all. Where is there a swordsman who goes out traveling without even carrying a personal sword?"

The personal sword is in the inventory slot; you just can't see it.

Siano muttered inwardly.

After obtaining the 'Masamune' blade, he had thrown away that small wooden sword; after all, that thing wasn't even as long as his arm now, and carrying it around would only make him look ridiculously like a clown.

"The reason for your doubt is actually quite valid."

Siano lowered his head to gaze at the scrawny youth before him. "But don't we have swords now?" He weighed the standard-issue bamboo sword in his hand, grinned, and said, "How about we find an open space and spar?"

(End of Chapter)