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Jingozi [An Isekai LitRPG]
Chapter 10. PRE-WASH

Chapter 10. PRE-WASH

Chapter 10: PRE-WASH

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As we stood amidst a mob of gleeful children, an elderly Japanese woman approached, her demeanor serene, but eyes sharp.

Name: Yukiko

Tier 4 Master

Faction: Samurai [Ronin]

Level: 96

Despite her age, she stood with grace, her long silver hair elegantly pinned up with a delicate jade pin. She wore lightweight armor of intricate leather weave and metal accents adorned with subtle floral engravings. Her presence exuded calm wisdom.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said, her voice melodic.

“You were?”

She bowed slightly.

“Come, let us have tea,” she beckoned. “And goodness, you could use a proper meal.”

We walked to a modest house with a thatched roof, the aroma of herbs and spices wafting through the air. Inside, the ambiance was cozy, with wooden beams and paper lanterns casting a warm glow. We sat at a low table, and she poured steaming tea into delicate cups.

“I’m Ember.”

She smiled knowingly.

“I know my child. I am called Yukiko. The Jingozi sent word of your pending arrival.”

Some children wearing aprons stepped in with plates of food. Yukiko embraced them before shooing them away. The tea was fragrant and soothing as we enjoyed a meal of rice, vegetables, and fish.

I couldn’t help but ask, “Why are there only children here?”

“They are Samurai sent to learn the ways of Jingozi. Our tradition is to nurture their skills and wisdom at a young age.”

I glanced at the children playing outside. Some were now laughing and dancing around Kitty as she imitated them on her hind legs.

“But I’m not Samurai,” I said. “My faction—”

“What you are makes no difference,” Yukiko interrupted, her voice firm yet gentle. “What is important is the Jingozi sent you. I am but one guide on your path.”

The room fell silent as I processed her words.

***

“Yes, Ember, your hunters are the Dark Elven—a race of elves that lived within the mountains for centuries until the Jingozi lured them out. Of all our kind, they adhere most to Jingozi beliefs.”

Yukiko and I walked through the grass on the outskirts of the village. Kitty was draped on my shoulders as usual.

“Like a cult,” I said, confirming my suspicion they played a part in my Jingozi trial.

“Yes.”

“What about those tree tentacles?”

“Wood Golem,” Yukiko answered. “A Blight—another class. They feed on the dead until nourished enough to take a more dangerous form.”

“And you know I’m not from your world?”

“Yes. You are humankind from a dimension called Earth.”

“Aren’t you human?”

“We might look human, but we are certainly not the same as you,” Yukiko chuckled. “But we are compatible. The Jingozi arranged it that way.”

“Is that why we speak the same language?”

“We are not,” she answered. “Right now, we are both speaking Jingozi Common. But you hear and understand in your tongue because you possess the body of a native from this dimension. It is designed to create a familiar linguistic experience. Even our slang and native expressions are adapted to each other as best as possible.”

I hung my head and asked, “How do you know so much?”

“I am a faction trainer,” she said while linking arms. “My role is to guide and train the Samurai in Jingozi.”

“But you’re a Ronin?”

“I have no master like a true Samurai. My faction does not fully accept me because I serve the Jingozi by teaching their ways. Yet, the Jingozi know I will never be loyal to them.” She looked into the sky before continuing, “The Jingozi are zealots, religious fanatics who know nothing about honor and only serve themselves.”

We circled the village once more in silence.

“Come, Ember,” she said. “Rest for the night. Tomorrow, your training begins.”

Day [9/40]

Training turned out to be nothing like I expected.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Instead of Jingozi matches, I sat cross-legged behind a small table in a classroom filled with children. Cragmarr had explained the Samurai faction prized intellect above all, and now I could see why. My young, over-achieving classmates took notes during Yukiko’s lecture while I struggled to keep my eyes open, feeling every bit like the college dropout I was.

Yukiko spoke at length about the various factions and their distinct approaches to Jingozi. The Ninja faction, she explained, was the most straightforward, relying on damage spells, strategy, and cunning. Ninjas were always the first to sacrifice their Zii in pursuit of victory. In contrast, the Golem faction, like Cragmarr, favored defensive spells and counterattacks, rarely competing in Jingozi tournaments due to their more passive natures.

The Samurai prioritized tactical combos, honing their card strategies with meticulous precision. Of all the factions, they were the most militarized and technologically advanced, second only to the Jingozi. Their armor, made from Zii-imbued alloy forged from metal Golems, was a testament to their blend of tradition and innovation.

Next, Yukiko described the Monk faction, which consisted of dissidents who had rejected their former allegiances to seek monastic harmony with nature. Their approach to Jingozi was deeply spiritual. They used Zii magic to unleash powerful attacks and defenses reflecting their desire for balance.

The northern factions, the Amazons and the Emperors were formidable in their own right. The Amazons, fierce women warriors, were military tacticians with versatile attack, defense, and magic strategies. They maintained a fragile alliance with the Emperors, whose dominating Jingozi style focused on draining opponents’ Zii for victory. The Emperors utilized a combination of magical attacks and armies of knights during gameplay.

Finally, Yukiko spoke of the enigmatic Jingozi. Participating only in the highest tournaments, they thrived on chaos and variance, using proxies to fight their battles—possessing the minds of other players. Their true play style remained shrouded in mystery, as those who lost against the Jingozi never lived to tell the tale. The Jingozi were so addicted to their games, they gambled their souls against each other, their fractured religion fueling an endless war.

When we mercifully broke for lunch in the mess hall, Kitty opted to hunt in the fields. As I slurped down a bowl of tasty noodles, I couldn’t help but notice how well-behaved and orderly the children were. In any other setting, one adult to dozens of kids would have been a zoo, but everyone knew their roles here, contributing like a young military operation. They also looked adorable in their gold uniforms and headbands.

Despite the youthful enthusiasm, the tension I felt upon arrival lingered. Everything seemed a little too disciplined as if it was all a performance.

Yukiko’s cheerful voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Goodness,” she said. “You could use a bath.”

Spinning around, I didn’t hide my excitement.

“Yes, please!”

***

Yukiko led me to the secluded hot springs nestled in the heart of the cliffs overlooking the village. Steam rose gently from the crystalline water, surrounded by smooth stones and lush greenery. She disrobed, revealing how fit she was for a woman that could’ve been my grandmother. After a moment of self-consciousness, I joined her, tossing my Ninja clothes into a pile.

As I slipped into the warm embrace of the springs, relief spread over every inch of my body. The soothing heat seeped into my muscles, easing the tension and soreness from a week of relentless threats and travel. Kitty dipped her tail in the water, decided it was not for her, and rolled up to nap in a tuft of grass.

I closed my eyes, letting the water carry away the grime and fatigue. The soft sound of bubbling springs and the faint scent of minerals filled the air, creating a tranquil vibe. Beside me, Yukiko relaxed. I was never a fan of spas in Vegas. But here, the warmth enveloped me like a gentle hug, melting away the stress.

“Why am I Ember [8160]?” I asked.

“That is an identification number,” Yukiko replied, keeping her eyes closed.

“There’s more of us?”

“Not exactly. Many of you are identified but are not all summoned.”

“But some are here?”

“Not exactly,” Yukiko repeated, leaning forward and massaging her neck. “This is an independent dimensional pocket of time. Others may be enjoying a conversation with another Yukiko right now, but this instance of me would not be aware of it. Once you reach level 25, you can detect the others if they are from your dimension.”

“How many levels are there?”

“Ninety-six for you. Four tiers of 24 levels each.”

“Did the Jingozi show you how all that works?”

“No, they obscure their designs with protective secrecy,” Yukiko replied, gazing at me. “We know this because once you leave, your host will inherit your progress as a gift. Everything you have done will seem like a dream to her, which we document and interpret. That is how we learn about the Jingozi, hoping that someday…”

Yukiko paused to gaze at me with glimmering eyes.

“Someday what?” I asked.

“As you say in your world, let us cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“But wait. You mean the woman hosting me is rewarded?”

“Yes. If you live and the vessel is not irreparably damaged, she will be a powerful warrior,” Yukiko said, flexing her bicep playfully. “She will continue to play Jingozi and live an abundant life among her faction. It is quite an honor to be chosen.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about all that.

“Cragmarr told me we all get a unique gift,” I said.

“Indeed, it is a special ability nobody else, not even the Jingozi, can do.”

I decided not to tell her about the Jingozi arena or the voice.

“But hang on,” I said. “What does it mean to be chosen?”

“Chosen to play Jingozi. Why do you think all these children are here?”

I felt a shiver despite the warmth.

“Wait, what? You all volunteer for this?”

“Yes. If they are not chosen as Jingozi apprentices, their next duty is to become a vessel for players like you. It is the Jingozi way.”

“What the actual…”

I caught myself before triggering the language filter.

“Why is that so strange?” she asked. “When you play what you call ‘video games’ in your dimension, are you not taking control of an avatar?”

“I guess.”

“Is it so hard to believe then, Ember? Considering what you now know about Zii and Jingozi technology?”

I thought about all the hours playing World of Warcraft.

Yukiko hopped onto the side of the pool. As she laced up her armor, she caught me staring at my heap of dirty clothes—tattered rags. They were beyond filthy, with holes and tears.

Understanding my predicament, she filled a bucket with spring water and scrubbed my uniform. When she was done, she plopped the freshly cleaned garments into a soaking pile on the rock, the water running dark with the grime she’d managed to wash away.

“I’m going to turn into a prune waiting for those to dry,” I said.

“Here is a lesson,” she said, snapping her fingers to form a glowing gold Zii coin. “Remember, Zii is everywhere and in everything. You can use it to charge your battle cards, but you can also do this.”

Yukiko placed the Zii coin on top of my uniform. With a few hand gestures, channeling her Zii-Kata, the coin glowed brighter, its light spreading across the fabric. It melted into the cloth, the glow intensifying before fading. When the light subsided, my garments were transformed—fresh and pristine, as if they’d been picked up from the dry cleaners. Every hole and tear vanished, as good as new.

“How?” I said.

“Zii is a universal resource. But as a Jingozi apprentice, you can harness its power in many ways if you are creative.”

“Then why go through the trouble of scrubbing first?” I asked. “Pre-wash?”

“To conserve,” she said while finishing up with her gear. “The more you can do without Zii, the less you need. Always be mindful of your resources.”

“Cragmarr does the same trick when he cooks—fish and crabs mostly.”

“That makes me hungry. We shall eat, and then you rest,” Yukiko said, stepping on the path to the village. “No more lectures. Tomorrow, the real training begins.”

I stayed, scrubbing stubborn stains while admiring the view. The bath was better than expected, and I was clean for a change. Tomorrow, I’d get all sweaty again and worse.

That made me laugh.

This was my pre-wash.