Chapter Forty-Seven: Challenging Tetsuo Miyamoto Once More

Yue Longze lay comfortably in his warm bed, utterly at ease, and before long, the gentle sound of his snores filled the room.

...

“Thank you, Daigu.”

Masaki Keigo gazed at the oddly shaped transformation device in his hand, grinning with joy. He had finally become one with the light! The device in his hand was the proof of it.

“We’ll protect Earth together from now on!”

Daigu looked deeply into Masaki Keigo’s eyes.

...

After nearly an hour of sleep, Yue Longze slowly woke up. Rubbing his drowsy eyes, he gazed absently at the endless snowflakes falling outside the window.

“What pure, white snow...”

If only the hearts of humans were as clean and pristine as the snow. Yue Longze sighed, pondering the darkness that lurks within humankind.

...

Half an hour later.

Standing in front of the Two-Sword Style Dojo, Yue Longze listened to the shouts echoing constantly from within and couldn’t help but marvel at the dojo’s popularity.

Arms crossed and lounging lazily against the doorframe, Yue Longze casually observed the students inside. Their aptitude was indeed impressive; every move was executed with precision and form.

“Oh! That’s the Everest Peaks!”

His gaze landed on a sharp-featured, almond-faced female student leading the exercises. She was the girl Yue Longze and Chiba Tainan had seen at the entrance the first time they visited the dojo. Back then, his attention had been thoroughly captured by her ample bosom.

Every time she swung her wooden sword, her shoulders stretching with the motion, her full chest swayed visibly—so much so that several of the male students around her were sneaking glances.

Sensing the weight of someone’s gaze, the girl turned her head gracefully, her beautiful eyes sweeping lightly over the room. She spotted Yue Longze leaning nonchalantly at the entrance, smiling as he watched her.

“That guy looks like that pervert from last time,” she thought. She remembered him, after all—it was rare for anyone to stare at her so boldly.

She stopped swinging her wooden sword and turned calmly to the students behind her. “Everyone, let’s take a break.”

Her voice was gentle yet carried an unmistakable authority.

“Yes, Senior Reiko!” came the unified response from behind.

The students relaxed, some chatting and laughing among themselves, others closing their eyes to rest.

“Ahem, ahem…” Seeing that everyone had paused their training, Yue Longze feigned a cough, covering his mouth, and stepped forward. “Excuse me, is your head instructor here?”

All eyes turned to Yue Longze in unison.

A few students remembered this young man. He had come to the dojo with the head instructor once before, but everyone had dispersed soon after, and no one knew what had happened next.

If they had known Yue Longze had once crossed swords with Tetsuo Miyamoto, they would no doubt have worshipped him as a living legend.

“What do you want with the head instructor? Are you here to learn the Two-Sword Style?” the girl addressed as Senior Reiko asked, wiping the sweat from her brow. She clearly didn’t think much of Yue Longze.

“My name is Yue Longze, a friend of your head instructor. I’m here to see him about something,” Yue Longze replied, forcing his gaze away from her impressive chest, his tone a little awkward.

Senior Reiko looked to be only about eighteen, not old, but with undeniable allure…

“I don’t recall my father having friends like you,” she replied, eyebrows furrowing with a unique kind of beauty.

“Seems Senior Reiko has a serious prejudice against me…” Yue Longze muttered inwardly. “But who told you to be so beautiful and so… well-endowed…”

...

“I really am your head instructor’s friend! If you don’t believe me, just call him and ask!” Yue Longze insisted earnestly.

“Fine, wait here,” the girl said, giving him a skeptical look before walking to the lockers, retrieving her phone from her own compartment, and dialing a number with her slender, fair fingers.

...

“Dad, there’s a young man named Yue Longze here at the dojo. He says he’s your friend and needs to speak with you,” she said softly into the phone.

Dad?

Yue Longze was taken aback at her words—so she was Tetsuo Miyamoto’s daughter…

While Yue Longze was still processing this revelation, the girl finished her call, her delicate, arched eyebrows drawn together as she regarded him with a strange look.

“I can’t believe you really are my father’s friend,” she said, incredulous. After all, she knew her father better than anyone—aloof, cold, withdrawn. Any of those words would fit him.

“I’m just as surprised to learn you’re Mr. Miyamoto’s daughter,” Yue Longze replied, spreading his hands in genuine shock.

“Dad will be here soon. Please wait,” she said, her tone less distant now that she knew Yue Longze was her father’s friend.

So Yue Longze leaned at the entrance, watching the snow drift down, lapsing once again into a daze…

After about the time it takes to finish a cup of tea, a thin, spectral figure appeared in the swirling snow.

Unmistakably, it was Tetsuo Miyamoto.

“Long time no see, Azawa-kun.”

Tetsuo Miyamoto removed his black hat, revealing his signature cropped hair and a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his perpetually pale face.

“Mr. Miyamoto, it’s been a while,” Yue Longze replied, nodding with a smile.

“Head instructor.”

The dojo students stood at attention, straightened their attire, and bowed in unison to Tetsuo Miyamoto.

“Dad.”

Reiko Miyamoto, beaming, padded over to his side, affectionately taking his arm.

“Dad, how do you have a friend like him?” she asked, looking sweet and obedient in front of her father.

“Azawa-kun is actually a rather remarkable young man,” Tetsuo Miyamoto replied, gazing at his daughter with indulgent affection before turning to look intently at Yue Longze.

Only in the presence of his daughter did he seem to become a different person. For a father, a daughter is the most precious being.

“You’re here for another bout, aren’t you, Azawa-kun?” he asked, sensing the faint battle intent radiating from Yue Longze.

“You guessed right, Mr. Miyamoto,” Yue Longze said. His swordsmanship had improved again recently, and his draw technique, his trump card, was his greatest weapon.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continued, “I hope… that this time we can make it a real match. With true swords!”

For once, even Tetsuo Miyamoto’s usually impassive face betrayed a hint of shock.

Yue Longze wasn’t trying to show off; the training swords didn’t have scabbards. Without a scabbard, he couldn’t use his draw technique at all.

Everyone, including Reiko Miyamoto, stared at Yue Longze in disbelief, making him feel a bit uneasy.

From their conversation, they gathered that this young man had already challenged the head instructor once, and the respect the head instructor showed him was astonishing.

“Are you sure? If there’s a mistake, the consequences could be dire,” Tetsuo Miyamoto said, his surprise vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“I’m sure. But… do you have real swords here?” Yue Longze asked. There was no way he could use the Cloud Cluster Sword against Tetsuo Miyamoto—it could slice through iron as if it were mud. Miyamoto’s swords wouldn’t last a single blow…

“Of course,” Tetsuo Miyamoto said, moving to the lockers, pulling out a slender key, and unlocking the largest cabinet.

Inside rested several ancient, authentic samurai swords, exuding an aura of antiquity.