Chapter 18 — Steel in the Shadows
The wooden sword felt heavier in my hands now.
Not because it had changed.
Because I had.
Every time I gripped the hilt, I could still feel the dojo in my muscles — the scent of fresh wood, Kaoru's sharp corrections, the sting of sparring matches that ended with me on my back.
Now, though, every cut flowed smoother. Every stance felt balanced.
It was time to test it.
But carefully.
The Cover
In a city like Floating Cloud, no one batted an eye at a teenage boy running errands for the local smith.
Old Man Ji had been around forever, half-deaf and mostly drunk, but he made decent knives and kept his mouth shut — which made his shop the perfect excuse.
"You're late," he grumbled when I showed up, dropping a bundle of firewood by the forge.
"You're still alive," I shot back, slipping my training sword from its wrappings. "Guess we're both surprising people today."
He snorted but didn't question it as I moved to the empty courtyard out back.
The Practice
It wasn't glamorous.
No dramatic flourishes, no high-speed slashes.
Just the basics.
Step.
Cut.
Recover.
Breathe.
Over and over, until sweat soaked my shirt and my muscles trembled from the strain.
Each movement honed what the simulation had given me, translating digital mastery into real-world instinct.
I wasn't ready to use a live blade yet — not here, not where a single mistake could ruin everything — but even with the wooden sword, I could feel the edges of my control sharpening.
The Test
The test came sooner than I'd planned.
Late one evening, walking home from the smithy, I heard it — the wet sound of fists on flesh, a muffled cry from a side alley.
I almost kept walking.
Almost.
But then I caught the glimpse of the victim — a boy, maybe thirteen, curled in on himself as two older thugs kicked him again and again.
Xiao Clan brats, from the look of their clothes.
I should've walked away.
Kept my head down.
Instead, I stepped into the shadows at the edge of the alley, wooden sword in hand, heart hammering.
Execution
"Who—"
The first boy didn't finish his sentence.
One clean strike to the wrist, controlled but sharp, sent his torch clattering to the ground.
The second spun, mouth opening to shout, but I was already moving — a sweep of his legs, a push that sent him sprawling, the wooden blade leveled inches from his throat.
"Leave," I said quietly.
They didn't need to be told twice.
The Aftermath
The boy stared at me, wide-eyed, as I helped him to his feet.
"Why—"
"Stay out of alleys," I muttered, pressing a pouch of coins — his coins, taken back from the thugs — into his hand. "And don't tell anyone you saw me."
By the time he looked up, I was gone, melting back into the quiet streets.
System Update
[Practical Integration: Kasshin-ryū (Basic) — Stable]
[Combat Composure: +7%]
Reflection
Back in my room, I sat cross-legged in the dark, replaying the fight.
It had been clean.
Controlled.
But it had also been reckless.
Every time I acted in the real world, I risked exposure. Risked throwing off the delicate balance that kept me alive and invisible.
And yet…
As I closed my eyes, I couldn't shake the image of that boy's face — the way terror had turned to relief.
I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was shaping the shadows around me.