Chương 29: Discourse on the Cycle of Benevolence

Galan's own war cry echoed in his mind, the phantom sensation of Bajicuen's explosive power coiling in his limbs. But then, an old, hesitant voice filtered through the haze, like sound muffled by deep water.

"Lo... Da..." The world slowed and blurred. The scent of the forest shifted into the perfumed air of the venue. The biting cold on his bare chest became the warmth of his cloak.

"Lord… Gawa..." The afterimage of a waving hand blended with Aurelia's face and then shattered. Galan blinked. He was staring at a deep crimson curtain.

"Lord Odagawa...?" He turned to his right, where Masahiko was watching him with worried eyes.

"Lord Oda, are you alright?"

"Yeah." Galan shook his head, clearing the fog.

"What happened?"

"You were staring at the curtain for a full minute without blinking. I... I was becoming quite worried."

"I do that sometimes." Galan rubbed the back of his neck, then flagged down a passing attendant.

"Hey, can I get a cup of hot rice wine?"

"Of course, sir. I'll be right back." Galan turned back to Masahiko.

"Is it the final intermission?"

"Yes," the old man nodded slowly.

"The dance concluded with much applause, but you didn't react at all."

"I was lost in thought," Galan admitted with a smile.

"Remembering our earlier conversation. It was the night I confronted that maid. I spared her because I felt sorry for the life she had lived, even though logically, she didn't deserve it." Masahiko looked down, thoughtful.

"To revisit such a moment... where compassion wrestles with strict justice... it is understandable that it would hold you so completely. If you need someone to talk to, I am here."

"Thanks, Masahiko. If only everyone in Japan were as forward-thinking as you." Masahiko smiled.

"I wish that were true. But such enlightenment doesn't come from tilling fields or practicing the blade. Most people frowned upon intellectual pursuits when I was a child." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Let me guess," Galan said, not needing his mindcast to know the refrain.

"Something like, 'Reading books doesn't produce fruit or protect our home'?" Masahiko looked shocked.

"How did you know?"

"Just making assumptions. It happens everywhere—Rome, my village, China, Greece. People don't realize that being smart is how the poor find creative ways out of poverty and how the defenseless make new things to protect themselves." The attendant returned with the tray.

"Here is your drink, sir."

"Thanks. How much?"

"One hundred and twenty kogan." Galan materialized one gold and two silver coins.

"Here." The attendant bowed.

"Thank you very much. Do you need anything else?" Galan's mindcast brushed against the young man's thoughts. He saw a gifted little brother and sick parents and a desperate wish to buy a mechanical doll he couldn't afford. Galan summoned five gold coins into his palm.

"I need you to take these and buy something nice for your family." He pointed a stern finger.

"And don't you dare say no." The attendant's eyes went wide as saucers. His professional mask shattered, replaced by raw, radiant joy.

"Th-thank you so much, sir! I will never forget your kindness!"

"Alright, go serve the other customers." Galan gave him a thumbs-up. As the happy attendant hurried away, Galan took a gulp of the steaming rice wine.

"Lord Oda," Masahiko asked, "may I inquire as to why you are so generous?"

"Why not?" Galan shrugged.

"As a ruler, it's my duty to keep everyone happy. Especially in a cultural hub like Rome. Can't be generous to one culture and not the others."

"It seems your concept of 'duty' extends far beyond what most Japanese expect from their daimyoo. Was this always your philosophy?"

"It took a while to realize it," Galan admitted, looking down.

"Other rulers are greedy. They keep resources for themselves and their supporters, leaving crumbs for the people below. That's why I decided to visit their lands myself—to improve lives directly through trade and investments."

"And I assume your casual generosity is a form of that?"

"Exactly. That attendant will do his job with a lighter heart now. He'll treat guests better, improving the venue's reputation. If everyone supports one another, businesses prosper. Owners hire more people, pay better salaries, and buy better tools. The goodwill spills over onto the lives of the poor." He finished his drink.

"Of course, that assumes no one exploits the cycle. Which is why I'm so harsh on those who overstep boundaries." He stared at the audience on the second and third floors, noticing Sho's children mimicking the dancers, while Kazue was brimming with joy as she spoke with her seatmate.

"At least, that's the simple explanation. My children and committee handle the day-to-day. I only step in if something goes wrong and I have to make up new laws on the spot." So he has dealt with many adversities raising a nation, Masahiko thought. Perhaps Japan truly would benefit from his governance.

"That's a great insight, Lord Oda. Perhaps Japan truly would benefit from your governance."

"Thanks, Masahiko. Although you really don't have to say it twice." Masahiko blinked, confused.

"Say what twice?"

"That, uh..." Galan realized his slip. Wait, he didn't say it the first time.

"Part about Japan benefiting from my ruling—uh! I mean... you already know I'll do my best." He gave an awkward thumbs-up.

"I know how to do this. Relax." Masahiko smiled awkwardly, a dawning realization in his eyes. Did he just read my mind?

"Of course, Lord Oda," he said slowly.

"I never doubted you."