Chapter 85
Kusanagi’s Sword (6)
A dojo under a clear sky.
The golden carp motif adorned the pristine, wide marble floor, and at the center, two people sat facing each other across a small table.
Clink—
Ken poured sake into Sehyun’s cup.
“Why not have a drink?”
“…….”
Sehyun didn’t touch the cup and instead stared steadily at Ken.
His eyes were unreadable.
Moreover, for some reason, he had insisted on a private meeting with Sehyun, excluding Konoha, the local guide.
What could he possibly be scheming?
“You’re really cautious. Meanwhile, my intentions are transparent.”
Ken grabbed Sehyun’s cup and downed it in one go.
“I was curious why the Four Great Clans would need my help.”
“Ah~ so that’s what you were hung up on? Well, I suppose I didn’t explain well enough.”
“And why the need for a private meeting? What are you really planning?”
“Alright, don’t rush me. I’ll explain everything.”
Ken waved nonchalantly and began his story.
“Your four clans had been engaged in a constant power struggle. Naturally, before Kusanagi Haru appeared, and even while he was alive.”
The Osaka branch of the Golden Carp.
The Tokyo branch of the Red Tiger.
The Okinawa branch of the White Crane.
The Sapporo branch of the Green Wolf.
Among them appeared Kusanagi Yashiro.
The Kusanagi Sword, also called a symbol of the Emperor, carried enough legitimacy to quell conflicts that had split into four factions.
“Yes, it was a unification under legitimacy. Not a consensus unification.”
For them, legitimacy was as vital as life itself.
Under the pretext of eradicating yokai appearing in the land, those with special abilities established clans and even domains.
Thanks to this, Japanese players were referred to respectfully as domain members (hannin) rather than derogatorily as monsters.
Thus, under the powerful legitimacy of the Kusanagi Sword, they had no choice but to bow.
“But even so, emotions built up over hundreds of years didn’t just vanish.”
Amidst the cold war quietly persisting between the four clans,
“The sword was stolen. Even that legitimacy was taken with it.”
The Kusanagi Sword, the core of their legitimacy, went missing.
The culprit: an unknown figure.
Not only had they stolen the divine artifact, but they had wiped out the entire clan.
“How can you be sure it was stolen?”
“Why else? On the night the sword disappeared, the entire clan was annihilated. It’s obvious someone did this deliberately.”
“…….”
Sehyun guessed that if it had been Hailhwan, he wouldn’t have done that.
If the clan were gone, the sword would lose its efficacy as a divine artifact.
‘But from a political perspective, it’s different.’
If even one member of Kusanagi’s bloodline survived, no clan among the four would have a legitimate claim to the sword.
Thus, for the sword to hold authority as “Japan’s throne,” eliminating the clan was essential.
‘……It’s getting complicated.’
Naturally, many questions arose.
Was it the clan, not Hailhwan, who stole the sword?
Did Hailhwan then seize it amid the chaos?
Or was there a deal between Hailhwan and a certain clan?
Perhaps the clan, needing legitimacy, and Hailhwan, needing the sword as a divine artifact, struck a deal.
Or… maybe the clan didn’t touch it, Hailhwan only ordered the sword, and Kuroda impulsively went berserk and killed everyone?
‘……Nothing is certain.’
What was certain was that the sword was stolen, and the clan annihilated, all in one night.
‘Many possibilities exist, but I should hear the full story first.’
Opportunities to hear the situation from a clan head’s perspective were rare.
“Anyway, once Haru died, the previously tense relationships completely twisted.”
It was inevitable; the figure that had kept the opposing forces bound was gone.
“They had already fractured completely, yet pretended to gather for mourning. I caused quite the mess.”
Unable to stand it, Ken openly declared war.
From that moment, the four clans began taking their own stances.
“First, the Sapporo guy locked his doors.”
Hokkaido was a difficult terrain to approach physically, and he had even set up massive barrier walls to restrict player access.
And Tokyo and Okinawa…
“Earlier, an interesting question arose. Why are Okinawa’s subordinates in Tokyo?”
Sehyun nodded.
Kashiwa had used the blind swordsman technique [Baldō].
That was the ability of Miyazaki, a blind swordsman from the Okinawa branch.
“So the question arose: why does Tokyo’s Yakuza have Okinawa’s techniques?”
“Hm, you’re not entirely ignorant about this side of things. Did that woman tell you?”
“It’s been very helpful.”
Sehyun had learned little about Japan’s internal affairs until now.
Even hearing about the four clans for the first time after coming here.
“Anyway, to conclude, Tokyo and Okinawa had indeed formed an alliance.”
“…I suspected as much.”
“The Okinawa guy has a shady side. He probably planted his seeds everywhere even before the alliance.”
As his title suggested—the Okinawa branch of the White Crane—Miyazaki pretended to be noble.
Not truly noble, just pretending.
“On the surface, he smiled, but behind the scenes, he had placed his subordinates everywhere. Even in Osaka, some are likely his disciples. That guy’s ability is unusual.”
He was not merely a player with a unique ability; his mastery of swordsmanship itself was his power.
Meaning, by passing on his sword techniques, he could transfer abilities to others.
‘So that’s why Kashiwa could use Baldō.’
That explained why Ken requested a private meeting.
“So you didn’t bring Konoha here, right?”
They didn’t know who from Okinawa might be present.
“You understand well.”
“But can I trust him? Even in a private meeting?”
“You’re Korean.”
A simple yet solid reason.
In summary, Okinawa, with its entrenched influence, attached itself to the most powerful Tokyo branch.
Tokyo was called the eldest among the four clans.
Its influence was immense, and the chance to claim the throne high.
And now it even had an alliance.
From Ken’s perspective, leaving it alone would mean losing the position without a fight.
“That’s why I need you to break this arrangement.”
“…Me?”
“I told you earlier. Domain members always care about legitimacy.”
Without legitimacy, they couldn’t attack.
But if a clan attacks someone under their protection first?
“Then I can’t stand it. I’d have full legitimacy to beat them senseless.”
“Hm, I get it.”
Ken intended to protect Sehyun, taking only the legitimacy of punishment.
Alright, that much was clear.
“But why should I risk such danger?”
If Sehyun allied with Ken, naturally the other three clans would target him.
Even if Sapporo was off-limits, they’d get dragged into the Okinawa-Tokyo dispute.
Joining forces with the first and second-ranking powers would only end with getting crushed.
“Hm… fair enough to think that way.”
Though Ken hit the nail on the head, he calmly refilled his cup, as if expecting it.
“But you must drink this cup. Otherwise… I’ll expose that you have the sword.”
“…!”
Sehyun’s eyes widened in surprise.
Ken grinned.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice if you drew it briefly? The title of clan head isn’t just for show.”
“…….”
“Whatever method you’re using to hide that energy, you have the sword. Right?”
Sehyun reluctantly picked up the cup.
“Hahaha… fine, honesty is best. No point in deception. You’d be better off allying with me than becoming everyone’s enemy.”
Ken gestured for him to drink.
Sehyun brought the cup to his lips, though his expression remained calm.
‘Within expectations.’
Drawing Baldō in public had been intentional.
Otherwise, there was no reason to reveal the sword to a low-tier like Kashiwa.
It was a calculated bait to draw in someone who truly understood the situation.
Konoha would normally gather information step by step, but…
‘Sometimes, you have to be bold and go straight for it.’
Sehyun aimed to contact a clan head or someone equivalent.
A higher-ranking player would know far more than ordinary players.
‘A clan head could sense the sword’s energy in an instant.’
As a result, Ken had taken the bait.
This was why Sehyun had reached this place and could hear all the secrets of the Four Great Clans.
‘If lucky, maybe a surviving Kusanagi might even reach out… but that’s unlikely.’
Anyway, the clan head had approached willingly.
Sehyun drained the cup and looked at Ken.
Ken, seemingly satisfied, drank sake straight from the bottle.
“Now, discussions are mostly over. Let’s move on.”
Ken motioned, and a subordinate dragged something across the white mist field.
Clunk—!
“…Disgusting.”
It was Kashiwa, covered in blood.
“I treated him, in my way. He has something I want to know.”
“…Is this treatment?”
There were stitched marks across Kashiwa’s abdomen.
“No anesthesia, I assume…”
“Hm, should I care about that?”
“….”
It was closer to torture than treatment.
“Wake him up.”
“Yes.”
Whack—!
“Ugh…!”
The subordinate struck hard, and Kashiwa groaned.
Blood still seeped from the stitched areas.
“Damn, he might pass out from blood loss again.”
Press—
“Argh!”
Ken pressed down on Kashiwa’s abdomen with his foot.
“Answer well, and I’ll send you to the infirmary. Answer once, got it?”
“….”
“Answer.”
Press—
“Argh!! Alright…!!!!!”
Ken grinned and removed his foot.
Watching Phantom, Sehyun had been used to cruel hands—but Ken’s cruelty was of a different kind.
Ken turned to Sehyun.
“Do you need anything from him?”
“Hm… not sure.”
Did they need to know the whereabouts of Tokyo or Okinawa’s bases?
No, Konoha could reveal even hidden offices, so no need to ask him.
“What you should ask is this: How many like you exist?”
“…?”
“How many people have learned Okinawa-style swordsmanship like you?”
The danger of Okinawa’s clan head was not trivial.
By teaching swordsmanship, he could create an army with his own abilities.
“Even counting just the Yakuza, there must be hundreds.”
Hundreds of trained players. For eliminating stellar-level rifts, such numbers were incredible.
“We need to hurry.”
“Yeah, as expected.”
Ken immediately summoned his subordinates.
“Gather all a hundred of Baekgeumdae. Take out all out-players on Honshu. And…”
Ken met Sehyun’s gaze.
“I’ll take Yoshihara with this guy.”
