"The specific identity hasn't been found yet. I don't have matching information on hand."
The tall, thin swordsman wearing a white fox mask shook his head. "However, a beggar at the dock saw him disembark from a passing cargo ship the night before last."
"Meeting with the kid from the Sakuraba family was probably just to fool him and gain entry to the tournament, pure coincidence."
"A nameless nobody with no sense."
The middle-aged man in luxurious clothes gently stroked the rim of his coffee cup. "Then let him enjoy the same treatment as the Sakuraba brat. In his group, let's put some troublesome opponents."
"Understood, boss."
...
The line at the registration desk was long.
While waiting, Shano idly looked around. After a moment, he suddenly noticed a curved wall in the northern part of the plaza.
Seven crests from different dojo families were displayed in a line, but in the center, there was a large awkward blank space.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed as though it had been freshly repainted.
"That spot used to have the Sakuraba family's crest, I think."
"Yeah." Pureichi nodded sadly. "There were actually two patterns erased: one was our Sakuraba dojo's crest, and the other was the Swordsmanship Association's."
"The Swordsmanship Association? Was that also founded by your father?"
"Not entirely. To be precise, it was founded by several dojo heads, but my father played a leading role, and later, he was elected as president through a vote."
Shano clicked his tongue. "Sounds like your father had a lot of prestige. When you told me he passed away, I thought the Sakuraba dojo must've caused a lot of trouble, maybe got into some conflict with the public."
"Probably people thought I wasn't worthy of taking over as headmaster after my father," Pureichi said with a bitter smile.
"Ugh, here we go again. I told you not to waste energy on internal conflict! You need to focus, kid! ...By the way, you mentioned your father died in an accident five years ago?"
"Yeah, it was a shipwreck."
Pureichi nodded, his expression distant. "It happened just a few days before the Swordsmanship Tournament. A storm hit the northern seas of the island. The Association received a distress signal, saying two ships carrying tournament participants had capsized."
"My father was at the Association office that day. He rushed out to help immediately after the call. He was accompanied by several seniors from the Sakuraba dojo. In the end, none of them came back."
Shano fell silent for a moment.
"Your father was a good man," he sighed. "It's a pity, but in this sea, being a good person doesn't always guarantee a good outcome."
"..." Pureichi didn't know what to say. After a long pause, he whispered, "Thank you."
Shano patted his back lightly.
"By the way, there's something odd about this."
Pureichi suddenly remembered something and looked at the row of dojo crests again.
"Back when the Association was still active, there was a place where everyone could meet and discuss things. The adults would often argue, and the dojo disciples on the streets would often challenge each other to rank fights."
"But after the Association disappeared, the seven dojos began to act as one, like family. For example, the new rule about paying to participate in the tournament was passed without any dispute, which is strange."
The more he thought about it, the more puzzled he became. Frustrated, he slapped his head. "Ah~ it's so weird, I can't make sense of it..."
Like family?
Shano fell into thought. Suddenly, something seemed to click in his mind. He quickly turned around, narrowing his eyes as he looked toward the nearby café.
The ground floor was crowded, but the second-floor balcony was empty.
His sharp gaze swept over the area and eventually fixed on a spot — a round table near the balcony railing, with two cups of coffee still steaming.
"What's wrong?" Pureichi asked, curious.
"Nothing."
Shano shook his head lightly, retracting his gaze.
He looked toward the significantly shortened line in front of them and smiled. "Let's not worry about that. We're almost at the drawing stage. I hope we don't face each other too early. Let's both make it to the finals and take the top two spots, how about that?"
"Alright! Let's do our best!" Pureichi clenched his fist and waved it. "Also! Don't show that 'I've already won the championship' look. When we get to the final stage, you better be careful. I won't lose so easily next time!"
...
The results of the draw were soon announced.
Shano was placed in Group B, while Pureichi was in Group C.
According to the rules, they would each have to face competitors from Groups A and D in five rounds. Only those who won all their matches could advance to the top eight.
"Ha, looks like I don't even need to worry about the entire qualifying round."
Pureichi's mood improved even more as he blew a whistle while holding the draw results.
"Well then, Mr. Shano, I'm off to Group C. See you at noon?"
"Yeah, go ahead. I'll finish my matches as quickly as I can and come find you."
After watching Pureichi leave, Shano took another glance at the café before heading toward his assigned competition area.
At this time, most of the wooden platforms around the plaza were already occupied, each at different stages of their matches.
Some had just started their duels, while others had finished and were resting.
After all, with so many participants in the qualifying round, this was the most efficient way to handle it.
"Sea selection, Group A and B, seventh match! Competitor number 120, Shano, vs. competitor number 28, Xika!"
The crowd gathered around one of the platforms as the announcement rang out. The participants stood at opposite ends of the platform.
Xika was a burly man, nearly 2.3 meters tall, with a huge bamboo sword that was notably larger than normal, both in thickness and length.
"Wait, you can choose different types of bamboo swords when you buy them?"
Shano raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"You don't know this?" Xika laughed loudly, "What a fool! You must be unlucky to face me in the first round. Don't worry, though. I'm a good person. I'll end your misery quickly!"
"Both of you, listen to the rules! You are only allowed to use bamboo swords in the duel, no using hands or feet to directly touch your opponent. If someone is knocked off the platform, they lose, and the other moves on to the next round. Do you understand?"
Both nodded.
"Alright, then I declare..." The referee raised his hand dramatically. "The match begins!"
The moment the signal was given:
Bang!
A heavy thud echoed through the air.
With a scream, the giant Xika's body was sent flying off the platform and crashed onto the ground several meters away.
"Well, that's convenient. I'm a good person too."
Shano's calm voice echoed from the platform.
The surrounding spectators went silent, and the referee stood frozen in place, his hand still raised in mid-air, unable to lower it.
Shano casually returned his bamboo sword to his waist and turned to the stunned referee, offering a polite smile: "Sorry, I'm in a hurry. Can we start the next match now?"