Chương 63: A Walk Through the Village & the Rut of Vengeance — Part I

Half a minute later, Haruto returned, carrying a sleek, black-lacquered sword. The hilt was wrapped in white sharkskin and black silk, while the fittings were simple blackened iron.

"Looks cool," Galan said. Haruto grimaced.

"You... do know how to wield this, right?"

"Yeah—" Galan swung his hands around wildly.

"Just swing it around." Haruto's eye twitched. Galan's mindcast picked up the squad leader mentally calculating the paperwork for a dead foreign national.

"Just joking," Galan chuckled.

"The angels wouldn't send someone without combat experience."

"Just... take the katana," Haruto sighed, defeated.

"It's yours." Galan took the weapon. It was perfectly balanced. One of the few in the station that Haruto forged himself. Impressive.

"Arigatoo, Sir Haruto. I'll take good care of it."

"Don't unsheathe it unless you have to. We have a rule in Japan regarding swords near civilians."

"I know," Galan said, tying the sword to his side.

"Only unsheathe your katana when you're killing someone." Haruto raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not as clueless as you think. I read a lot about your culture beforehand." I sure hope he's right. The forest won't be so kind to someone that's ignorant of its dangers, Haruto thought.

"I see. Is there anything else you need?"

"Actually, yeah. I need you to place two people in protective custody immediately." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Haruto pulled out a notepad from his fabric belt.

"Who?"

"Fujimoto Kazuya, the husband of the deceased Hanae. And his mistress, Saito Akemi."

"What's their connection?"

"They are the reason Hanae took her life. Considering what happened to Ryosuke, I'm afraid they're next on the ghost's list." Haruto's expression turned grim.

"Understood. I'll send a squad to secure them right away."

"Oh, by the way, how far away are the oni territories?" What?! Haruto sighed. I'll just get this over with. He resigned himself.

"They live far northeast, beyond the mountains. You're safe in the forest, assuming you can handle small yookai. But be vigilant." Satanvujoang, I'll need the ship again, Galan thought.

"I will. Thanks for the info, Sir Haruto."

"Doo—wait, how'd you know my name?"

"Oh, well…" He looked for an identification tag that isn't there.

"The angels told me to look for a squad leader with that name. I assumed it's you." I'm not paid enough for this, Haruto thought.

"Of course. You're welcome, Mr. Odagawa." Galan waved as he walked away.

"Now to find myself a ghost… and maybe figure out who this Asaka person is." He marched forward, scanning the festival. He watched a group playing Hanetsuki, batting a feathered shuttlecock back and forth. Hmph. Maybe this should be a national sport or something. He saw a couple feeding each other cotton candy, a simple gesture that brought a pang of memory for Theara. I wonder if the pain will ever go away, he thought. Maybe it'll just take a while.

He reached the village's other exit, a narrow, unpaved alleyway between two buildings. Overgrown ferns crowded out smaller plants in forgotten pots. Just like the guild of Barony pushing into the Free Marshes, he thought. A sudden memory of conquest then flashed through his mind, one where he had to burn them and their supply lines to the root to give the others room to breathe. He shook his head. Am I losing my mind over potted plants? He walked on and passed the alleyway onto the road.

People passed him, nodding respectfully at him. He scanned their minds for info on Asaka but found nothing useful. Do none of the locals know who she is? These hermit types are the worst. Then, the realization hit him.

"She's one of those types of hermit, huh?" He groaned, rubbing his face.

"Guess I just have to learn yookai diplomacy on the spot." He continued his journey, letting his mind rest. But the shadows of his past pulled him back, dragging him toward the memory of a fateful night that highlighted the sheer cruelty mortals could inflict upon the weak.