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Chapter 9

I grind through the rest of the day and then eagerly march to the front door to meet with my safety traveling group. Strangely, when I arrive Eowin is the only one there.

“Where’s your brother?”

“He went with Spree.”

“Went with Spree where?”

“I don’t know, but Spree, Eli, and Daitaro went with those bad guys from yesterday, and they said I couldn’t go with them.”

“The Shenrong Butchers?”

“Yeah. Is my brother in trouble?”

“Your brother’s in a lot of trouble! Let’s go look for them.”

Eowin and I race into the school’s courtyard. The courtyard isn’t very big. It’s lined with a brick wall on every side except the front. The front has a metal gate instead of a wall. Students always hang out in large clusters in the courtyard after school, so it takes us a moment to visually weed through them in our search for Spree and the others. Tragically, we don’t find them.

“Let’s hurry towards the dojo. Maybe we’ll see them along the way.”

Eowin nods and we take off. Stepping out of the courtyard, we immediately enter into the heart of the city. Prosperity is a gray ghetto where the sun only shines with reluctance. Probably because it’s ashamed to shine light on the things that happen in our town. For pity’s sake as soon as Eowin and I cross the street, we get multiple offers from three opium dealers standing on the corner. Luckily, they know that young girls aren’t their target customers, so they let us go without too much hassle.

Down the street from there, we see a man bursts out of a corner shop running full speed. The store’s shopowner comes chasing after him with a broom, but to no avail. The shoplifter is already gone with whatever goods he stole. Criminals tend to run faster than the general populace.

Up the street from the shoplifter, we encounter a group of loosely dressed women with powdered faces passing judgment on our humble attire. I don’t even want to say what business they’re in.

From there, we go up the street, searching left and right for any sign of our friends and the Shenrong Butchers. Sadly, we don’t see them. There’s no telling where they went. All we can do is go to our houses and hope that the boys aren’t as stupid as they sometimes act. I imagine that Spree and Daitaro are being pervs right now and that they just wanted to join the Butchers for the women, but there’s no logical reason why Eli would join them. The only thing that could draw him to a gang would be the fact that Eli likes to do anything that he sees Spree doing. Eli is such a good kid. It’s a shame that he latched onto Spree instead of someone more respectable. In any case, all I can do is wait and see how things unfold.

I leave Eowin at her house and then return home myself. The first thing I do is my homework. On Tuesdays my parents and I go to the dojo once I finish my homework for our family training time. It’s during these sessions that my father teaches me the secret techniques that are only passed down to the heir of the Hiko-style of martial arts. Also, it’s a chance for me to bond with my parents. It’s serious business, but it’s also lots of fun. I always look forward to our Tuesday training sessions.

When all of my assignments are complete, I grab my gear and then rush to my parents who are in the main room sitting at the low table, staring at each other with twinkling eyes. When they see that I’m ready to go, my mother blows my father a kiss, and then they stand and go to the front door where their gear is already placed.

Together, the three of us merrily sashay down the streets of Prosperity to the Megumi Kara Tsuyo. Once we’re inside we make the opening bows and then begin warm up and stretching. We don’t wear the full set of body armor because our training doesn’t involve striking one another like when I train with the Hanabira. Our training is largely theoretical and when we do need targets to strike, we either use wooden dolls or bamboo mats for tameshigiri.

Today my father is teaching me the technique he used to defeat the Loathsome Midnight. My mother and I stand on the sideline watching as he explains.

“The technique that I used to defeat our attacker was the Giman-Fū No Tsume – the Deceptive Wind Claw. To perform this technique, you use a pattern of precise steps coupled with wind magic to create a spiraling effect that coils your body like a spring. After the second spin, you let the wind uncoil and project you forward. This technique is deceptively fast despite what seems like so much wasted motion. Also, the low spin forces your opponent to either guess how you will attack or try to attack you first, in which case it’s already too late because your attack will already be there. You come and try it Fuu.”

I oblige my father and step forward. My mother claps her hands in a show of support. It’s not necessary, but my parents are naturally supportive like that. Lifting the pants legs of his hakama, my father shows me the steps for the Giman-Fū No Tsume. I try to replicate the steps, but get them wrong. My father wags his finger and then repeats the pattern. I model his movements beside him. Playfully, I pretend to spin out of control, uttering, “Woah, woah, woah, woah!”

I fall on my butt and stick out my tongue. My father smiles and then suddenly kneels to the floor to tickle me. I laugh and kick at him until he gives me a big kiss on the cheek. He then stands to his feet and stretches out his hands to help lift me up.

As soon as I’m on my feet, the dojo doors swing open and the Shenrong Butchers enter. I see Ifrit, Spree, and four other men whom I don’t know. They come in strutting like usual and spread out in a line. Ifrit then takes a step forward with a cocky grin and his hands on his hips.

“Can I help you?” my father asks.

“Nah, not you pops,” Ifrit answers, “But your daughter can.”

My father takes a quick glance at me. “Leave my daughter alone.”

Ifrit whistles. “Sorry, no can do pops. Ya see, I’ve promised to fulfill one special wish for all of my new members, and Spree's wish is for your daughter’s sweet ass. Now she can either give it to him willingly or we can take it by force.”

My father draws his sword. “Get out!”

Ifrit’s cocky grin grows even wider and he steps forward with his hands still on his hips. When he reaches four steps away from my father, he draws one of the two katanas that he wears on his belt. My father takes an orthodox centered stance. Ifrit poses in a strange sideways one-handed stance. Judging from the fact that he has two swords, he’s probably used to fighting with one hand per sword. Yet the fact that he’s only using one against my kenjutsu-master father is a blatant show of disrespect and condescension. I’ve never wished for a man to die in my life, but I hope that my father kills Ifrit.

While the two of them sum each other up in their fighting stances, I glare across the room to Spree. He seems fidgety and nervous and he won’t look me in the eyes. Nor should he. He’s done callous things before, but joining the Shenrong Butchers to get to me is the most unspeakably cowardly thing that I’ve ever heard of. When my father finishes with Ifrit, Spree will be severely punished.

The battle begins. My father attacks first with the fumikomi-ashi and a strike to Ifrit’s head. The villain blocks the attack, angling it away from himself, and then counters with a swing of his sword to my father’s left side. While he does this, Ifrit tucks his left arm behind his back in a further show of disrespect to my father. Nonetheless, my dad doesn’t waver. He blocks the attack and then lunges for Ifrit’s chest when he leaves himself open. Slyly, Ifrit turns his body to dodge the attack. At once, my father goes for a horizontal slash to decapitate Ifrit. With crazy fast speed, Ifrit sinks under the attack and sweeps my father’s legs out from under him.

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He hits the ground hard, landing on his side. Yet there’s no time for pain in the middle of a sword fight. He rolls away from Ifrit and recovers to his feet. All the while, Ifrit makes no effort to capitalize on my father’s vulnerable position. Instead, he decides to show off, swiping a hand through his flame-like red hair and grinning his cocky grin.

My father takes a glance at me and nods. There’s precisely enough distance between him and Ifrit to repeat the attack sequence that he used last night. Leaping through the air, my father flies at Ifrit with a summersault. He comes down clashing his sword against Ifrit’s high guard and then spins immediately into the Giman-Fū No Tsume. When he shoots forward, Ifrit pulls back hard on his sword and manages to deflect my father’s blow although its impact staggers him backwards. To be an uncultured street thug, Ifrit is a wondrously talented swordsman. I don’t understand it.

They turn to face each other once more. This time Ifrit prepares for a big move. He lets his sword hang by his side while he raises his left hand in front of him with his palm turned up towards the ceiling. As he strains concentrating his mana, a ball of fire appears in the air above his head. My father changes postures to a defensive high stance. Ifrit continues charging his attack. A series of seven more fireballs appears in the air around him in a circular pattern. Finally, Ifrit calls out, “Kagutsuchi Style: Eight Volcanoes!”

He thrusts his palm forward and all eight fireballs project towards my father, yet as they fly through the air, they coalesce into a single massive fireball. It hits my father with colossal power and knocks him completely off guard. Amazingly, Ifrit then shoots through the air at him with a single leap. My father quickly raises his sword to recover and block Ifrit’s leaping slash. Yet there is no leaping slash. It was only a setup. Ifrit lands without attacking and instead goes for a lunge as soon as his feet touch the ground. My father is unable to react in time and Ifrit’s sword pierces straight through his chest.

“Noooo!” I scream in horror.

Ifrit pushes my father off his blade with a kick. Reeling backwards, my father’s back hits the wall that we bow to in order to show respect to the dojo. He slowly slides to a sitting posture and the upper portion of his body slinks to the side. His eyes are still open, but the light in them has faded.

I sink to my knees in a puddle of tears.

“Wheeew,” Ifrit whistles. “He wasn’t too shabby. Alright boys, you can take it from here. I’m going back to the base. Spree, have fun.”

Ifrit exits the dojo, leaving only Spree and the four other Shenrong Butcher goons. “What do you want us to do?” one of them asks Spree.

“Well, there’s five of us and I don’t want to share. You guys can have the mother, but bring me the daughter.”

At once, the four men run at me and my mother. As soon as they reach us, one holds us while the other tries to rip off our clothes. We scream and kick, but the men don’t stop. I feel the one holding me lick his tongue across my face. My mind nearly shuts down in horror, but my years of martial arts training kicks in without conscious thought. I shove my butt hard into the man holding me from behind. This sets my body as a fulcrum point against his weight. At the same time, I grab his right arm and yank it while bending my body forward. These three movements together allow me to throw the man over me even though he’s much heavier than I am. The sudden throw surprises the other man and I’m able to escape.

I run in a panic towards the back room with the samurai armor. The two men quickly recover from their shock and chase after me.

Tears stream from my eyes, and I can barely breath from the raw terror of what’s happening. Still, I reach the room in time to retrieve my family’s ancestral sword Megumi. No one outside of my family has ever seen this sword. Not even Spree, who until now was the senior student of the Hanabira.

The sword Megumi, despite its pleasant name, which means “Blessing,” is actually an instrument of sheer destruction. It has divine-grade properties and its monetary value is worth more than my house by a factor of 10,000. It’s formal tag reads:

Given Name: Megumi

Technical Name: Spontaneous Tungsten Katana of Deathblows

Prefix: Action Speed, Divine Grade: Spontaneous – +12 Action Speed

Suffix: Critical Hit, Divine Grade: of Deathblows – +200% Critical Hit Damage, +15% Critical Hit Rate

From its magical affixes alone, it might be difficult to discern what special powers Megumi gives its wielders. Basically, what it does is it makes its wielder 220% faster than normal, facilitates pinpoint movements, and grants an enormous boost of power when an attack hits clean. It could be compared to reliably being able to throw a dart into the bull’s-eye of a target given that the dart knocks a hole straight through the target and the wall behind it.

I unsheathe the sword from its white scabbard and instantly my body feels weightless. The two men who were assaulting me reach the room with bad intentions. When they see that I have a sword, they try to draw their own weapons, but it’s much too late for that. I breeze by them in a flash of lightning. I then run as fast as I can down the hall to the main area of the dojo. I’ve already taken five steps by the time the two men fall to the ground lifeless. I cut them both twice for good measure, but neither of them even saw me move.

When I reach the open area of the dojo, the two men assaulting my mother have all ready torn off her obi and opened her kimono, exposing her bare breasts. She continues to put up a fight causing them to be too occupied with what they’re doing to notice me. It’s a fatal mistake.

I dash to the first man and cleave off the portion of his head above his nose. The other man releases my mother in a panic. I drive my sword straight through his heart, twist it around, and then pull it upwards until it exits the top of his skull. His brains and guts spew everywhere as he collapses to the floor. The only one left now is Spree.

I turn to face him, but when I do, I barely catch a glimpse of him scurrying out the front door. I rush to the door to try to catch him until I see my father. He lies crumbled on the floor. His eyes are still open.

I drop Megumi and kneel to my father’s side. “Daddy!” I wail.

I close his eyes and then lean over him. I can’t hold in my feelings anymore, so I burst into a torrent of tears. My mother closes her kimono as best as she can without the obi and comes over to us. She touches me on the back and then I turn into her, so that we can hold each other in our arms. We both sob uncontrollably.

It seems like an eternity passes before I’m calm enough to speak again.

“Mom,” I say tearfully. “I’m going to kill them. All of them. Ifrit, Spree, Daitaro, Eli, and all of the Shenrong Butchers. They’ll all die by my sword.”

She answers, “Fuu, we have to go the magistrates. It’s not your job to chase criminals.”

“No, it’s the magistrates' job, and they’re not doing it. That’s why I’m going to be the one to cleanse this city of its gangs. Not one of them will get away with his crimes as long as I’m still standing. I promise this on the Hiko name.”