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Chapter 5.2. Remaining Life Skill
The day after the hobgoblin was defeated. Sakimori walked through the abandoned town at noon wearing a black coat, a hood, and a mask. That would have been more embarrassing than suspicious, but the old man’s cool, dandy-like, and in a good mood.
The wandering people looking for something to do turned their eyes away from Sakimori, seeing his insane, inappropriate attire, and hurriedly walked away from him. The old man smiles at the sight and thinks he’s feared. Maybe that’s not what feared means, but he doesn’t care. In an abandoned town, he can’t worry about the details. That’s the kind of build he would like to keep.
Even in the ruined city, it’s a relatively safe place with plywood between buildings and guards guarding with crude spears and bows. Sakimori arrived at a place with well-maintained security, and only the occasional giant rat attacked. This was Takeda Shingen’s territory. A dirty flag with “Fuu-Rin-Kazan” written on it stands there.
“I always thought that Takeda Shingen’s banner, Fuu-Rin-Kazan, shouldn’t have more than four letters.”
[Well, it’s just a fad, so it’s appropriate, I’m sure.]
Shizuku is floating in front of me and answers me in a bored manner. She hasn’t slept today. The one in standby mode is a ghost and can talk to me.
To avoid any suspicion. Our conversation is conducted in the form of thoughts. Even though he’s a suspicious old man if he talks to himself. He’ll become a dangerous old man by doing that.
“Oh, isn’t that Sakimori-danna? Hey, open the door, Danna is here.”
One of the guards notices and opens the plywood door. Without hesitation, I slip through the narrowly opened door and enter.
The inside was as dead and lifeless as ever. Skinny people, with no hope for tomorrow, sit down and don’t want to move. Men gather around a bonfire burning in drums and whisper. It is an area where food is also a problem. Even if there are prostitutes, there is no income, so the narrow streets are empty, and no stalls.
“Where is Shingen?”
I ask the gatekeeper’s thug, turning away from the people with no work, food, and hope for tomorrow.
“Hey. He’s at the usual bar. Shall I show you around?”
“No, it’s Fuurinkazan? If so, I know. I’ll go alone.”
Waving his hands unsteadily, he walks through Shingen’s territory. Takeda Shingen. For some reason, names from the Warring States period are all the rage, and more and more people are calling themselves that. I guess it’s a way to show off your power if you call yourself by the name of a famous warlord.
I walked down the battered asphalt road, with people looking at me with curiosity, and soon arrived at a place that once was a chain of izakaya. The signboard of what used to be a chain of izakaya was covered with a piece of cardboard, and it read Fuurinkazan. It was too appealing. It looks like a pachimono.
Two guards stand in front of the broken automatic door. One of them is the big guy who came to me yesterday. He notices me and rushes over.
“That’s Sakimori-aniki! I heard you killed a horde of hobgoblins, didn’t you? No, as a lil bro, I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t want a lil bro. I want a lil sis. Cough, and I’m not making you one. I don’t want a lil bro, and I have no intention of making you one. Move it! I’ve come to get a reward from Shingen.”
“No, that’s fine. Even an aniki needs a lil bro.
I kicked him to the curb for now. If you’re talking about a good younger brother, it’s a bad guy. It’s a role to show off the strength of the strong man who appears in front of the main character. I don’t want to die. I don’t want that.
It would be nice if it was for my sister, I entered the restaurant with a cool look. The restaurant is a large izakaya with 12 table seats and 10 counter. The menu is on the wall as a remnant of the old days. Summer only, conger eel has started. Conger eel’s interesting. You would have to go to Kyoto to get a conger eel.
There were people dressed in dirty clothes, and on top of that, they were wearing leather jackets, probably as a substitute for armor.
To call them fools, they were too thin and not terrific. To call them mafia, they were too poor. I don’t know. They looked like a group of needy peasants who were revolting. I could kick their asses all by myself. But I don’t think I could, because of a guy with a gun hidden in his hand.
As I went in, the people who were talking inside paid attention to me. I’m used to this, so I don’t mind. I walk across the floor littered with empty cans, scraps of paper, and other trash. Oi! Clean it.
They whisper and talk to me, but I guess it’s something they fear about me.
“It’s midday here, and he’s all in black again.”
“You idiot, if he hears you, he’ll beat you up.”
“He thinks he’s cool, so leave him alone.”
Huh. After all, it’s something that scares them. I’m sure. Don’t worry, Shizuku. I won’t cry if you don’t stare at me. This black outfit is to make I won’t get recognized even if I switch places with Shizuku. I won’t deny I think it’s kinda cool.
If I go to the very back, you can have a woman attendant to you. No, it’s a large skinhead man counting cans with a bitter look. He’s wearing samurai armor. You know, there are worse-looking guys than me.
“Hmm? Oh, you’re a Sakimori? You’ve come a long way. You’re still dressed like an idiot, huh.”
“You look at yourself in the mirror before you say that to me!”
I look at the bald man who called out to me in disgust.
It’s Takeda Shingen, the boss of this territory.