The journey of swordsmanship is long, and I shall seek it high and low...
Master's fish is delicious, but it lacks a bit of mustard.
Roy took the Shallow Strike from the wall and headed to the depths of the forest to begin his daily sword practice, as usual.
Behind him, Urokodaki Sakonji carried a basket of rubble, treading through the wind and snow, and asked him to wait a moment. He hung the basket on the tip of the sword, fixed it with a piece of wire, and said expressionlessly, "Practice."
Roy felt the weight from the tip of the sword and looked as the old man walked away, his steps lighter than usual.
Was he humming an unknown tune?
"Hehe... Master is angry." Makomo giggled, covering her mouth, "Who told Eiichiro to ask so many questions..."
"Master probably thinks he just picked up the sword but is already getting overconfident..."
Disciples don't necessarily have to be lesser, nor does the master always excel them. Could it be... "Eiichiro is now already at Master's limit?" Sabito's face was obscured by the fox mask, making it hard to see, and he suddenly spoke... the air around seemed to freeze.
"Impossible!" Shinsuke rolled down from the birch tree and circled around Roy... It must be admitted, "Eiichiro is indeed a monster, but Master has been immersed in swordsmanship for over fifty years, there's no way he's inferior."
"No one said Master is inferior to him." Fukuda leaned against the tree trunk, listlessly hanging his legs, "What Brother said was about strength. Master is old, and his strength is definitely not at its peak; it's not surprising that he's weaker than young people."
"Will you die if you don't argue with me for a day?"
"So what if I would, I'm already dead, are you going to kill me again?"
"I'll... strangle you!"
"Come on, see if I don't kick your balls to pieces!"
"Ominous wind~" As the sinister wind blew, Shinsuke and Fukuda started fighting again.
Makomo completely ignored them, tugging on Sabito's sleeve, "Hey~ How many strikes do you think Master can manage at his limit?"
Sabito remained silent, his eyes on the boy trying to swing the sword without letting the rubble spill from the basket. After a while, he contemplated, "Definitely not as many as Giyu now."
When Giyu set out, he was only capable of dealing with regular demons, but now... with five sessions of "Ten Thousand Basic Swings" daily, he should manage it.
"Thud..." A piece of rubble fell from the basket...
Roy frowned, bent down to pick it up from the ground, put it back into the basket, stopping to catch his breath. He had to accept the reality; swinging the sword while bearing weight and trying to prevent spilling the rubble was far harder than he imagined.
"The steadier your hands, the fiercer the blade, the less deviation, the fewer the flaws."
By evening, dragging his sore arms back, Urokodaki Sakonji was sitting on the tree stump in the yard, meticulously carving masks.
He said this to him.
He didn't ask Roy how many swings he made that day, and Roy didn't answer how many. The master and disciple silently ate dinner, each lying on a different corner of the kang.
At night, a few sparrows landed on the eaves, preening their feathers...
Roy put his hands behind his head, gazing at the beam, Shinsuke curled up into a ball after being beaten into a swollen state when he suddenly heard Urokodaki Sakonji say, "Eiichiro, take your time."
Followed by a soft hum, "Mmm."
And he closed his eyes,
Makomo, though late, also arrived. She lay next to him on her side. On the nearby corridor pillar, Sabito crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to sleep, and from time to time, the sound of the ominous wind blowing against the window paper could be heard...
Roy, feeling sleep approaching, unconsciously slipped away from the Snow Country and returned to reality.
The familiar sensation of falling struck...
The boy opened his eyes, Wutong already having gotten up from the sofa before him, serving him for his morning routine.
"What time is it?"
"Four o'clock."
"What's happening across the street?" Roy asked with a toothbrush in his mouth, noticing someone shouting outside the window and faintly hearing the sharp sound of a police siren downstairs. He looked over...
Wutong packed up the toothpaste, explaining, "A fire broke out... Just as young master said, Haseki Dorou's trial has begun."
Flames engulfed room number 1989, adding fuel to the already hot summer.
After washing up, Roy put on his sportswear and started his morning run. Wutong took this time to prepare breakfast. The master and servant each had their tasks, just as Haseki Dorou was busy with his desperate escape, with Illumi closely chasing after him.
"This lunatic... How did I offend you? Could you at least say something... Silent and straight-up setting fire, and it wasn't even a house I bought..."
Haseki Dorou's hair was scorched, a wound stabbed in his back, blood oozing out... Amid the chaos, he checked the time. There were still four and a half hours left until the airport meeting, so he steeled his heart, leaped forth, breaking through a glass window with his right hand claw-like, grabbing onto the wall's surface, swiftly sliding down the building... in no time, blending into the chaotic crowd...
Roy happened to jog past, looked up, noticing Illumi peering down, their gazes meeting momentarily before calmly looking away.
One look, two looks, three looks, the foolish Mamen Bean watched as his brother left, then flipped over after Haseki Dorou...
"Oh my god... Look, someone else is jumping off the building!"
The chaotic crowd became even more disordered... with the sound of fire and police sirens blaring...
Roy maintained his pace, not fast nor slow, circling around the Heavens Arena a few times, timing perfectly to return to his room just in time for breakfast.
Entry Level noticed the door was open, and a young girl was sitting by the dining table, in his seat, complaining Wutong was stingy and wouldn't let her have any food. Raising an eyebrow, he walked in.
"Oh... Little Roy, you're back. I came kindly to bid you farewell, look at him..." Biscuit pointed at Wutong accusingly, "He won't even give me a sip of porridge."
"Well done." Roy patted Wutong on the shoulder, pulled up a chair, sitting across from Biscuit, treating her as if she were air, and began under Wutong's service to enjoy his breakfast.
This morning's breakfast consisted of avocado sauce paired with fried eggs and bacon, complemented by buttered toast... Not opulent, but certainly nutritionally complete...
Biscuit, irritated by Roy's words, was not angry. Watching Roy eat eggs and bacon, she swallowed a bit, "Give me some."
Roy continued to eat rapidly without giving any.
Biscuit glared at him, urgendingly, "Come on, I paid for it."
In her mind, the girl silently added the fact that Roy's expenses on this trip were entirely covered by Wing... But isn't a disciple's money also the master's money?
Very reasonable.
Who cares... Roy couldn't be bothered, devouring the last piece of toast like a whirlwind, washing it down with milk. Only then did he give her a glance, taking his time drawing a napkin and wiping his mouth methodically, "Go on, what do you want?"
Biscuit pouted angrily, "Can't I talk to you for no reason?"
"No."
"...."
Biscuit began to tear her clothes.....