Ding—clap!
A coin was flicked up by a thumb, tossed into the air, and caught steadily as it fell, repeating this motion over and over.
Xiano strolled leisurely through the streets at dusk, the rhythm of the coin's rise and fall gradually syncing with his steps.
"Hmm?"
He suddenly looked up.
Not far away, a huge pale pink banner hung above the city gate, bearing the words "Asakura Island 25th Dojo Tournament."
To the left stood a notice board, surrounded by a bustling crowd.
"Excuse me, thank you."
With his powerful physique, Xiano easily pushed through the crowd and made his way to the notice board.
"You son of a—"
A few thug-like youths, having been shoved aside, were initially furious and turned to pick a fight. But upon seeing the muscular and imposing figure, they silently stepped back into place.
"Swordsmanship Tournament? Any disciple of a swordsmanship dojo can participate. Entry fee: 10,000 Berry. Deadline: tomorrow."
"Reaching the semifinals earns 1 million Berry, and the champion gets 5 million Berry?"
Not bad at all. Xiano was genuinely tempted.
Unfortunately, his swordsmanship was truly abysmal, and it would be best not to embarrass himself.
More importantly, he had to find a ship to the Goa Kingdom early tomorrow morning. Who knew how long this tournament would last? If it took a week or even half a month, he simply didn't have the time.
Xiano shook his head and was about to cross the drawbridge to find an inn in the city to rest.
Suddenly, he spotted the skinny boy in tattered Kendo Uniform by the city wall, staring blankly at the banner, clutching a Bamboo Sword tightly in his hand, his eyes dull and lifeless.
Well, this was a chance to return what was his.
"Here, your money. Keep it safe."
The skinny boy felt something cold being pressed into his hand and was slightly startled. He looked up at the burly man whose age was hard to guess.
"You are..."
The boy opened his palm, still somewhat dazed. Only when he saw the familiar coins did he understand and murmured, "Another scammer..."
"You don't seem surprised?" Xiano raised an eyebrow. "Now that's surprising to me."
"Ah, I can probably guess what happened."
The boy continued to stare at his palm. "After all, this is my mother's hometown. I lived here for a few years as a child, and I've heard about the ways of professional beggars."
"Then why did you give them money?"
"...There are still real poor people. What if I could help?"
"Admirable spirit, but that old guy was obviously shady. Your judgment seems a bit lacking."
"...Yes, I've had little contact with the outside world. My experience is a mess. My teacher said the same thing."
"Teacher?"
Xiano's gaze shifted to the boy's Bamboo Sword. The hilt was wrapped in tattered cloth, clearly well-used. "A swordsmanship teacher?"
"Yeah, you probably haven't heard of him."
At this, the boy finally looked up, his tone filled with reverence:
"But, Koshiro-sensei is truly an incredible Swordsman! Being fortunate enough to be his disciple is the proudest thing in my life!"
Koshiro?
Xiano was taken aback. He had just come to return a few coins, and now there was an unexpected twist?
Was this the reward for doing a good deed?
He suddenly became interested. "So, you came all the way from Isshin Dojo?"
"Ah! How did you know?" The other person widened his eyes. "Have you been to Shimotsuki Village too?"
"Not yet."
Well, now I'm counting on you to take me there.
Shimotsuki Village had only been established a few years ago, carrying a somewhat secluded, utopian vibe, even more remote than Cocoyasi Village.
With only a handful of merchant ships passing by each year, it was nearly impossible to get there without your own boat.
Since this skinny young man in front of me was Koshiro's disciple and had managed to come here, he must have a way to return. All I needed to do was follow him.
This one-month sea voyage was all about seizing opportunities wherever they appeared.
If there was no chance, so be it. But with fate right in front of me, how could I let go of this little cash cow, Roronoa Zoro?
"I've heard of Master Koshiro before, so I knew," Xiano said. "So, are you representing Isshin Dojo in this year's swordsmanship tournament?"
"No, no, no, I'm not skilled enough to represent Master Koshiro."
The skinny young man hurriedly waved his hands in panic, as if afraid of tarnishing the reputation of Isshin Dojo. "Besides, the Swordsmanship Tournament on Asakura Island doesn't accept entries from outside disciples. Only officially registered Martial Arts Schools on the island are eligible."
"As for my other identity…"
He suddenly snapped out of it and bowed deeply. "Ah! I haven't even introduced myself yet. How rude of me! My name is Sakuraba Junichi, the current head of Sakura Courtyard Dojo on the island."
The head of a Martial Arts School?
Only then did Xiano notice that this young man named Junichi had a faded family crest embroidered on the sleeves and left chest of his Kendo Uniform.
Though it had been washed to a pale blur, one could still vaguely make out a blooming cherry blossom.
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"Xiano," he extended his hand for a brief handshake as a greeting. "Shall we talk somewhere else?"
...
In a modest tavern in the southwest of the city.
"Two glasses of Binks' Brew, please."
"Four thousand Berry."
Slap! Xiano pulled out two large bills from his pocket and slapped them on the counter, then took the drinks to a corner table.
He still hadn't touched the fifty thousand Berry Bellemere had given him. Originally, he would have spent nearly half of it on food and lodging aboard the Gatt, but because of the incident with the King of the Near Sea, he hadn't spent a single Berry.
So, he was still relatively well-off.
"No, no, I'm only fifteen," Sakuraba Junichi said nervously. He had never been to a tavern before. "Isn't it inappropriate for someone underage to drink…"
"It's fine, the alcohol content is low," Xiano said casually, his attention entirely focused on the wine glass in his hand. This was his first time seeing this famously renowned drink.
Binks' Brew wasn't just a song; the drink itself was quite famous in the East Blue.
A fixed ratio of rum, white wine, and orange juice blended together to create a refreshing taste, making it widely popular.
The alcohol content was only around ten percent, so it was hard to get drunk.
Really?
Sakuraba Junichi clumsily held the wine glass with both hands, watching the liquid inside sway back and forth. Suddenly feeling parched, he couldn't resist and took a big gulp.
At that moment, Xiano's leisurely voice chimed in:
"By the way, I'm thirteen, a bit younger than you."
Pfft—
Before he could even taste the wine, Junichi spat it all out. He didn't have time to feel sorry for the wasted drink, as he stared wide-eyed at Xiano across the round table.
Thirteen years old?
"Why are you so surprised?"
Xiano continued to savor his wine, taking a sip of the icy, sweet liquor that slid smoothly down his throat. He closed his eyes in satisfaction.
What a sin. It was all because of those sailors who had egged him on and forced him to drink that night, leading him astray. Otherwise, he would still be a good boy who never touched alcohol.
"Let's talk about you instead."
He put down his wine glass and looked at Junichi, who was still in shock. "Let me guess… the martial arts school in your family must have already declined, right?"
He didn't even need to guess.
The tattered kendo uniform Junichi was wearing couldn't possibly belong to a rich young master playing cosplay.
"Yes, it's embarrassing to say."
Junichi lowered his head and mumbled, "My father was once the strongest swordsman on Asakura Island. The Sakura Courtyard Dojo he founded was once the most renowned martial arts school on the island."
"But… ever since my father passed away five years ago, the dojo has been suppressed by other martial arts schools on the island. My senior brothers left one after another, and in the end, even the land of the dojo was taken by creditors. If it weren't for Koushirou-sensei taking me in, I might have starved to death at sea."
(End of chapter)