Chapter 18: Without a Sword, What Do You Have to Fight Me With?

Ten fingers, ten puppets.

The people controlled almost covered all the upper-class big shots.

The entire Asakura Island, just like that, unknowingly, along with its seven most proud dojos and the swordsmanship tournament, had fallen into a tool for the "Carpenter" to earn dirty money.

"So all this was you, a despicable villain, pulling the strings behind the scenes!"

Junichi drew his sword; thinking of the miserable experiences he and his father had endured over these years, he gritted his teeth so hard tears nearly flowed. "Absolutely... absolutely unforgivable!"

Just as he was about to charge at the "Carpenter," a sound of splitting wind suddenly came from behind his ear; in an instant, the bamboo sword in Junichi's hand was severed at the waist.

Junichi turned back in a daze; the one who had cut off his bamboo sword was none other than his own father.

At this moment, Sakuraba Ki's face was ferocious and twisted; his right hand tightly gripped a pale pink longsword, maintaining a downward slashing motion, while his other hand desperately clutched his right wrist, trying hard to stop it.

Clearly.

The target of that previous slash was originally not the bamboo sword in Junichi's hand.

It was his head.

"Go... go, go!" Sakuraba Ki squeezed out a painful scream from his throat bones. "Stay away from me, Junichi!"

"Father!" Junichi's eyes widened; before he could react, *pa*, a powerful large hand grabbed his arm and yanked him backward more than ten meters.

"Boss Siano, let me go, I can't abandon... I have to save my father!"

"Don't speak nonsense."

Siano threw him forcefully into a corner and said coldly:

"Staying beside him is only harming him! Have you ever seen a puppet show? There is only one way to stop this performance: kill the person manipulating it from behind the scenes!"

"Do you think with your strength and a broken bamboo sword, you can rush in front of that guy?"

Junichi lifted his head and stared blankly at the distant "Carpenter."

"What are you looking at, brat?"

The Carpenter sneered, spat out a puff of smoke rings, then suddenly waved his left hand and the two fingers at the end of his right hand, pointing south.

"Anyway, these old guys won't be needed anymore; completely puppetize them for me!"

—*Shua shua*!

Invisible ripples rose in the air; remarkably, they were threads, shooting toward the first row of seats on the south side of the spectator stands.

The seven dojo masters suddenly emitted *kuang dang kuang dang* noises from their whole bodies, rose up in unison, and came forward with stiff steps; seven bright, sharp blades unsheathed simultaneously with a *ceng*.

And as they moved, their elbow joints and knees emitted dull *ge dong ge dong* sounds, like wooden balls colliding with each other.

On their exposed body surfaces, wood grain patterns kept emerging, becoming denser and denser; their eyeballs rolled upward showing whites, covered with dark yellow threads, looking extremely eerie.

In an instant.

The seven people vaguely formed a semicircle.

While shielding the "Carpenter" behind them, they also blocked all escape routes around the arena.

"And you!"

The "Carpenter" laughed wildly, pointed his right index finger at Sakuraba Ki, and another dark yellow puppet thread shot out.

"Aren't you very capable of resisting? Try resisting Laozi again? At such a close distance, under my lord's ability, there is no room for you to struggle!"

"You beast..."

Blue veins bulged on Sakuraba Ki's forehead as he used all his strength to resist.

But ultimately, it was futile.

He could only watch in despair as wood grain patterns began to grow in circle after circle on his body's surface.

His left hand lost control and slowly loosened, while his right hand, holding the sword, turned little by little, slowly facing the direction where Siano and Junichi were.

And his originally clear consciousness became increasingly blurred.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he seemed to have finally made a decision.

"Puppetization is irreversible; I don't want to completely turn into a mindless monster..."

"Perhaps this is my best destination."

Sakuraba Ki revealed a smile. "Goodbye, Junichi."

"Father..." Junichi's eyes widened; as if suddenly realizing something, he sat up from the ground in terror, scrambling on hands and feet to rush onto the high platform, but was firmly pressed down by Siano beside him; he could only flail his arms wildly, shouting with tears blurring his vision, "No... no! I beg you, don't! Father!!!"

*Chi*!

In merely an instant, the sharp blade in Sakuraba Ki's hand suddenly reversed, fiercely plunged into his left chest, and quickly twisted in a circle.

"..." Junichi's movements suddenly froze stiff.

In the reflection of his pupils, that withered, bone-thin body, bearing a smile squeezed out with the last shred of strength, crashed forward onto the ground with a *hong*.

The world also seemed to collapse at this moment.

"Mr. Sakuraba Ki!"

"President!"

From the spectator stands, cries of grief and indignation also rang out, mixed with bursts of sobbing.

Under the spotlight.

The black-haired youth had somehow remounted the arena; he stared at this motionless face, frowned imperceptibly, but ultimately said nothing.

Then he turned his head to look at the spectator stands.

"One by one, what are you still looking at here! Aren't you afraid of death? Do you think this is still a competition?!" Siano took a deep breath and roared out with maximum force, "Run!!!"

The spectators were startled with fear.

Looking at the grim-faced "Carpenter" and those eerie puppets as if a horror movie had walked into reality, they finally realized what this scene truly meant.

"Go quickly!"

"M-my legs have gone weak... Save me, pull me up!"

"Aaaah! We're going to die here!!!"

For a moment, panicked screams erupted everywhere as people fled in disarray toward the front and rear gates.

The announcer also scrambled away on hands and knees through the staff lounge corridor; just before exiting, he did not forget to scoop up the two trembling Broadcast Den Den Mushi from the wall, clutching them to his chest as he fled.

Some unwilling swordsmen tried to turn back and help fight, but Major Tomuto and the sheriff indifferently blocked them, mercilessly riddling them with holes using flintlock pistols.

Amidst a spray of blood mist.

"Carpenter" shook the ash from his cigar with a look of pure contentment.

"Let me say this."

He gazed at Siano on the stage, clicking his tongue in wonder as he spoke:

"Kid, I didn't expect you to care so much about the common folk; with your own life in danger, you still had the mind to tell them to leave first. It's making me somewhat tempted to recruit you."

"It seems you have misunderstood something."

Siano slowly raised his head; "Carpenter" froze slightly, for what he saw was a pair of excited, scarlet eyes, wild like those of a beast:

"—I told them to scram simply because I didn't want them blocking my path; that would have hindered my movements!"

"Stop spouting nonsense, kid!"

Stared at by those eyes, Carpenter felt an inexplicable hollowness in his heart; forcing a cold sneer, he said, "You even said this isn't a competition; even if your swordsmanship is decent, what can you do with that broken bamboo sword?"

Swish!

The two dojo masters suddenly stepped forward and attacked; their blade light was bright as snow, and the bamboo sword in Siano's hand was easily chopped into several segments.

Immediately after, two swords, one before and one behind, firmly pinned against his neck and chest respectively.

"If you have anyone to blame, blame yourself for trusting this Kendo Tournament too much; as a swordsman, you didn't even bring your true weapon with you."

Only then did Carpenter completely set his mind at ease, bursting into unrestrained laughter. "Now tell me, kid! What difference is there between a swordsman without a sword and a lion with its claws cut off!"

"Talking to yourself, in the end..."

Siano looked at the bamboo sword, now reduced to just its hilt, and suddenly loosened his grip, letting it fall.

He raised his head, baring his teeth in a grin. "In the end... who told you I was a swordsman?!"

Boom!!

The instant the words left his mouth, two massive hands shot out, pressing down on the heads of the two dojo masters beside him, one on the left and one on the right, before suddenly exerting force.

Crack!

The crowns of their skulls instantly emitted the crisp sound of cracking walnuts; under the crushing pressure, their entire heads rapidly deformed, their facial features gradually shifting and twisting out of place.

Their skin cracked inch by inch, yet no blood flowed from the fissures.

Instead, dark yellow puppet strings, dense as iron wire worms, surged out in a frenzy from the cracks, attempting to wrap around Siano's wrists.

But the moment they touched his skin, they were shattered into powder by his suddenly bulging arm muscles.

"Is that it?"

The power Siano poured into his fingers grew greater, more terrifying, more violent!

Crunch-crunch! The hard frontal bones of the two dojo masters could no longer withstand this force, breaking open under ten circular fingerprints.

The next moment, Siano gripped them like bowling balls, suddenly exerting force to hurl them out viciously!

Boom!

The two puppets smashed into the spectator seats like cannonballs, crashing through row after row of chairs with a rumbling roar; when the dust settled, their bodies were folded and twisted at sharp angles, utterly motionless.

The wood grain covering their entire bodies gleamed with a waxy, deathly pallor under the spotlights.

"..."

"Carpenter" stared blankly at the scene, the cigar at the corner of his mouth falling to the ground with a pat.

Riiip—The sound of tearing clothes suddenly rang out from behind him.

He gave a start and turned around, just in time to witness Siano crumple the expensive kendo uniform he had bought into a ball and fling it off the ring like garbage.

Freed from the constraints of clothing, his knotted muscles burst forth, expanding and writhing outward as if breathing, while the Heavy, rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat became clearly audible.

The figure on the ring, already imposing enough, seemed to expand another circle; now looking down on him from above, he resembled a small mountain.

"Y-you..."

Carpenter subconsciously swallowed, his legs trembling as he retreated backward, stumbling and nearly falling.

"Warm-up complete."

The black-haired youth before him licked his dry lips, speaking with a grin, his cheeks trembling and spasming as he talked; this was not a reaction of exhausted muscles, but the excited shudder of a beast about to pounce on its prey.

"—Now, it's your turn."

(End of Chapter)