Teaching Kendo in Tokyo 1980

Kiryu Kazuma drew the wooden sword from across his back and casually began untying the cord of its sword bag.

Technically, there was no real need to take it out. After all, a wooden sword was just a stick—he could use it with the bag still on.

But this was about ceremony.

Kazuma wasn't about to rush in recklessly just because these punks looked easy. Even Guan Yu had suffered defeat from overconfidence—no way was Kazuma going to make that mistake. He had to stack every Buff properly.

As for what poem to recite… none came to mind that would fit a "draw your blade to help the innocent" kind of moment.

Then again, Atsumori wasn't even a poem, and it worked just fine—so clearly, reciting verse wasn't required.

In that case, wasn't there a perfect choice?

Kazuma started humming that familiar melody.

"Do you know the great river flows eastward? And the stars above point to the Northern Dipper?"

Was there anything more fitting?

Shouldering his wooden sword, Kazuma swaggered forward, exuding the forceful presence of a Black Whirlwind Li Kui.

The gang of delinquents was instantly cowed by his aura.

They were simply on a different level.

If aura could be visualized, Kazuma's would have been a towering mountain, pressing down on them so hard they'd never rise again.

The one holding the metal bat cursed and shouted, "What the hell are you showing off for?!"

Then he shot a look at the punk who'd made that crude comment about the girls earlier.

That one immediately led a few others to circle around—clearly aiming for Chiyoko and the girls.

Kazuma glanced at the numbers above their heads and instantly judged that not only would they lose to Chiyoko, they'd stand no chance against Chiyoko plus Nanjo.

Still, it was best to finish this quickly to avoid complications.

So Kazuma decided to go straight for the leader.

Take out the head to topple the gang.

He shifted into stance.

"Yo-ho~! Look at him posing! Think you're some kind of sword master, huh?" the bat-wielding punk jeered. He must've thought they were still in the phase where punks traded tough talk.

Kazuma was already moving.

A huge body went flying backwards, landing with a heavy crash and rolling far across the ground.

Instant silence.

Even the group trying to flank Chiyoko froze in shock, staring at Kazuma.

Kazuma stood there, puzzled.

That didn't feel right… why'd he only fly that far?

Am I in a party state now? Lone Dragon Buff didn't activate?

Seriously? Just having allies in sight counts as a party?

Back when I sparred in the dojo, Lone Dragon worked fine—probably because Chiyoko wasn't hostile to the opponent, so she counted as a neutral unit?

Man, that's rough. So I really have to go solo for full Buffs?

What, do I have to start running a Batman build now? But even Batman's got a bunch of Robins…

Ah, whatever. Against this rabble, Lone Dragon's overkill anyway. Even without sending that bat guy flying across the stars, the distance was plenty.

Kazuma's mood right now was like finally getting a noob-stomping match after losing with Yasuo all night—fully geared and ready to fountain dive.

Best of all, the enemies weren't surrendering.

The bat guy, groaning, scrambled up and yelled, "What are you morons waiting for?! He's just one guy—get him!!"

The punks all turned to look at Kazuma.

One finally mustered the nerve to charge with a shout.

That broke the dam—spurred on by their leader, the rest surged forward.

Kazuma sneered.

Do you guys not get it? A fully-geared Yasuo farming minions—what is that, just one E?

But of course, he didn't forget to roar first.

A loud enough roar can break enemy morale—that's a trick learned from General Zhang Yide of Yan!

Kazuma's shout shook the entire park. The punks' charge immediately faltered—and he was on them in an instant.

Kiryu Chiyoko pulled Jingūji Tamamo behind her.

"Stay back. Don't get in my way."

Then she mimicked her big brother's movements, slowly untying her wooden sword's bag cord.

She didn't actually know why it needed to be done slowly—but her brother had looked so cool doing it.

So she did the same.

Sword in hand, Chiyoko glanced at Nanjo-senpai—who was so fixated on Kazuma that she was clearly out of the fight.

No matter. Chiyoko wasn't worried at all.

These scrawny punks? Please. Compared to real yakuza? They're a joke. I've faced way worse—including getting doused with sewage. These guys aren't worth mentioning.

She shifted into Gatotsu stance.

And not the simplified version her brother taught Mikako and Nanjo-senpai—this was the real deal, straight from Kazuma.

Chiyoko charged.

PIA! Her target hit the ground, clutching a shoulder that had been squarely struck, wailing in pain.

Chiyoko, like her brother, blinked in confusion.

Why didn't he fly?

Even if a 14-year-old girl was weaker than a 17-year-old boy, the difference shouldn't be that big.

Another punk charged in, yelling.

Chiyoko smoothly backstepped to dodge, then tripped him as he passed. Down he went, howling too.

A third punk tried to bypass her and lunge at iinchō.

But iinchō calmly pulled out a can of pepper spray and gave him a full blast to the face.

He collapsed—and of the three, his screams were the loudest.

Finally, Nanjo jumped in. She raised her bamboo sword high and charged at the last punk.

Proper Jigen-ryū strikes required a battle cry—it was part of the intimidation technique.

Nanjo let out a yell: "&*%￥!"

Her bamboo sword slammed down on the punk's head.

He dropped instantly—no chance to scream—completely out cold.

iinchō adjusted her glasses.

"What style is that? If I ever learn kendo, I'd definitely never pick that one."

Nanjo flushed but quickly protested, "I-I didn't choose it! My dad forced me to practice!"

Meanwhile, Chiyoko was busily thumping any punk trying to get up.

"Don't get complacent! They're still guys—they've got strength. Make sure they stay down."

"We won't get up! We won't get up!" the first one she'd stabbed wailed, hugging his head. "Please, have mercy!"

"Talkative, aren't you?" Chiyoko replied, giving him another sharp whack. The rest didn't dare make a sound.

She huffed.

"With this sorry lot, you think you can be yakuza? Real yakuza can withstand an assault from me and my brother. You guys? You're rejects—trash who can't make it in either world."

iinchō added primly, "Don't waste words on trash. It'll dirty your mouth."

She pulled out her vocabulary notebook and resumed memorizing—though her other hand still held the pepper spray, ready to fire again.

One punk near her tried to crawl away—only to have iinchō precisely stomp on his fingers.

"GAH!" he screamed.

"Stay down. No funny business," iinchō said flatly.

Nanjo glanced at the punk sprawled in front of her.

Clearly, she'd been hoping for an excuse to hit him again—but he was already unconscious.

Nanjo sighed in disappointment.

(End of Chapter)