Zeraki’s POV
“Will you be accepting currency as change or the Ruler’s credit?” a beautiful waitress in a black and gold uniform asked after they had finished their lunch.
Zeraki raised an eyebrow and looked at Hadiza, who just shrugged.
“What’s the Ruler’s credit?” he asked.
The waitress gave a cordial smile and pointed at the renovated section. The semi-circular cushioned seats, the round, smooth table with plates that had fresh muffins on them, the glasses of water, and the purple tablecloths with gold patterns contrasted well with the walls.
“All transactions are carried out in the Ruler’s credit at the VIP section. If you choose to convert your balance to Ruler’s credit, then the next time you come, you shall have access to the VIP section and whatever meal you have shall be deducted from the Ruler’s credit.”
“Oh. Uhm. Sure. Give me the balance in Ruler’s credit,” Zeraki responded.
“Alright, sir, give me a moment to get you registered as a VIP.” With a bow, she left and headed back to the counter.
“You said Ola bought this place, didn’t you?” Zeraki asked Hadiza.
“I mean, she did say she loved the food. I haven’t heard her talk about it again, though.”
She glanced at the VIP section before going to the counter to get registered as well. She then came back with three cards, all black with gold markings on them and a section displaying how much Ruler’s credit was on it. Apparently, one Ruler’s credit was equivalent to one Saka. Hadiza handed one to Zeraki and another to Tara, who looked at the card with so much gratitude Zeraki was certain she might cry.
[ Number 7: This has ‘Ola’ written all over it. It’s brilliant. ] he commented after finishing bringing Number 4 up to speed.
Zeraki didn’t comment on it; harping on about Ola’s brilliance at every turn got tiring at a certain point. It was easier to simply go with the flow.
———
Hadiza ended up dragging Tara back to the Library and continued learning Mother’s Universal Language while Tara practiced her writing.
Zeraki got back to learning more languages while Number 3 left to explore the library and Number 7 went back to monitor Labaan as he prepared the potions.
The second floor was the furthest either Number 7 or 3 could go to before they put too much strain on the bracer. It didn’t matter if one of them stayed close to Zeraki, they would experience the same limitation regardless.
Losing one bracer reduced the radius of exploration from a kilometer to three hundred meters.
Number 7 had seen Kito and the other male, called Sudo, have their potions. Kito’s was dark green while Sudo’s was a dirt yellow. They both tasted just as horrible as Hadiza’s. Number 7 couldn’t follow them to their respective floors, but the only new thing he’d seen was that a man he’d never seen before took Kito away and Labaan took Sudo away.
Hadiza and Tara left the library at 4 p.m. and Zeraki left at 6 as stipulated by his employment contract, but he didn’t go home. Instead, he took a carriage to Cherry Blossom Dojo.
The Dojo was closer to the Thousand Li Market and it had a cherry blossom tree in its front yard. The building’s architecture itself was a stark contrast to the buildings around it since it had very few visible steam machines in its design.
When Zeraki walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was the man in a dress—[ Number 4: That’s a Kyūdōgi, otousan. ], [ Number 7: Looks like a dress to me. ]
Well, one arm was inside the Kyūdōgi and a cat was peeking through a slit on his chest.
There were quite a number of people on mats, sitting… kneeling? He couldn’t tell. Either way, some looked focused while others just looked like they’d rather be somewhere else.
What remained constant was the man standing at the front with his cat. Zeraki walked towards the racks with swords, abandoning the ones with really big bows.
“Come with me.” He heard a woman say to him as she walked past him. He had no idea where she came from but she had one of the really big bows on her. No one seemed to care about him so he followed her.
“What would you like to learn?” she asked after they walked out into the backyard where there were shooting targets at the furthest end.
“What self-defense art can I learn?”
She calmly took a pose, raised both hands; one with the bow, another with an arrow. She brought it down while knocking the arrow then took aim. Her breathing slowed and then suddenly, the arrow was released. She kept that pose for a couple of seconds before responding.
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“Muay Thai and Taekwondo are pretty common among the normal folks, and Archery and Aikido for those looking to gain mental discipline.”
[ He! She missed. ] Number 7 said with mirth in his voice.
Zeraki looked at the target and saw an arrow at the outer circle, pretty far from the red spot at the center. The bull's-eye? Number 3 was hovering close to the target.
[ Number 3: She was close! ]—She wasn’t—[Or maybe she’s so good that she’s targeting the outer circle to challenge herself. ] she said, her voice trailing off at the end.
“Which one builds speed, agility, and strength?” Zeraki asked as he turned to look at the archer.
“I’ll sign you up for Muay Thai. That’ll be one Gold every month, paid to me.”
Before she started lifting her arms again, Zeraki fished out a gold coin. She pocketed the coin and proceeded to lift her arms.
“Come with me.”
He turned to see a shirtless man in shorts and white wraps around his wrists, knuckles, ankles, and shins behind him.
‘Okay, I give up. Where do these people keep coming from?’
[ Number 7: The walls open quietly. It’s hard to spot them unless you are actively looking for them. ]
[ Number 4: I believe the doors are called Fusuma. They are sliding panels. ]
———
The man in shorts directed Zeraki to an underground section that wasn’t as quiet as the upper floor.
[ Number 7: The upper floors must be for the quieter arts. Like archery and swords. ]
Zeraki nodded; he’d come to the same conclusion.
They walked past a room without a door, just in time to catch a woman getting kicked on her upper thigh, sending her to a half-kneeling position followed by a roundhouse kick to the temple.
They all flinched… all except the shirtless man who walked past it without a second look.
[ Fatality. Johnny Cage wins. Flawless victory. ] Number 4 intoned as they watched the woman shake off the probable concussion like a dog getting out of a bath and her opponent smirking like he wanted to see if she could recover from that.
[ Number 3: How did you know his name? ] she asked while flipping her body to an upright position. She’d been doing a handstand walk ever since they got to the dojo, [ I don’t see a name tag anywhere. ]
[ Number 7: Ignore him. It’s probably an anime reference. ]
[ Number 4: *Sigh* How terrible it is to be a beacon of hope surrounded by a wasteland of the uncultured. It’s a game reference. ]
Zeraki shrugged after listening to them talk. To each their own, he supposed.
He followed the shirtless man into a different room with only five people. One woman, four men; he and the shirtless man brought the count to seven.
Without introducing him, the shirtless man brought him to a section of the room and gave him basic drills to start practicing, then pointed to the left where an actual door was.
“…and that’s the bathroom.”
The others in the room were either using dummies or going through drills.
Zeraki wasn’t dressed for this, so he just took off his half-coat and shirt but kept his business suit trousers on.
His footwork was terrible, but it was his first time doing this. Yet, even as he blundered through it, he could feel he was making progress both with how much madness was being shaved off and how receptive he was towards the feedback he got from his body.
Once he got to an acceptable amount of automation, where his body moved without too much active oversight from his consciousness, he added in shadow boxing strikes from the drill while moving.
Jab! Cross! Hook!
Step back!
Reset!
Jab! Cross! Hook!
His body reluctantly took in these new inputs that repetition was forcing on it. He didn’t bother trying to optimize his movements by nudging his organs, muscles, and cells; everything was as foreign to him as it was to them, so he just kept going.
Jab! Cross! Hook! Lean!
Jab! Cross! Hook! Parry!
Jab! Cross! Hook! Knee!
Whenever his body began failing to remember the earlier moves, he started stepping in and actively telling them what was to happen by consciously focusing on the move.
Time blurred as this went on. His body grew more receptive to this dynamic where they kept instructions within themselves and Zeraki grew to trust his body the more it got the moves right.
[ Nobody bad-mouths Muay Thai. ] Number 4 said with a smirk on his face as he watched Zeraki fully engrossed in his training.
The use of knees and elbows practically gave him an additional four limbs. His opponents would feel like they were fighting an eight-limbed man.
[ Number 3: This is boring, and I miss Amali. ] Her bored expression soon turned to worry, [ Do you think she’s alright? She needed to be close to dad to even sleep well. ]
[ Number 7: Not sure if she’s alright, but I do know that father is the one in a body that was pushed to a corner so much so that suicide was its only way out… Even if father is temporarily okay, we have Hadiza to worry about. I’m not certain, but I believe her charm might have broken when she became an Extractor or stopped working because of it. ]
Number 4’s smirk receded as his expression turned grim. [ …I’ll keep a close eye on her. ]
————
An hour later, Zeraki reluctantly decided it was time to head back home. His schedule was still a mess and he had very little daylight to fit it all in. He made his way to the upper floor and through the archery range.
“Give me a moment and I’ll take you home.”
Zeraki turned around in time to see the archer woman take aim and release.
“You don’t have to,” he said, seeing that she was busy.
“You are a paying customer of the dojo, which makes you a guest of the Gracie family. Please let us show you our hospitality.”
The words sounded like a request, the tone a statement of certainty.
Zeraki remained silent and waited.
She walked to a weapons rack and slotted her bow in, then equipped two katanas—at least that’s what Number 4 insisted he call them—to a belt-like harness.
“Alright. Whenever you are ready, sir,” she said, turning to him.
“Just ‘Zeraki’ will do.”
“Then you may call me Ani.”
Zeraki nodded and turned to head out. Night had fallen and the gas street lamps illuminated the roads but left most side streets in darkness.
Finding a carriage wasn’t an issue while they were close to the dojo. Zeraki thought that she would turn to leave once she made sure he had found one, but she climbed in with him.
“Is this really necessary?” he asked after telling the carriage driver where to head to.
“It would be a shame to the dojo if one of our customers gets taken by the Mawaki.”
“The Mawaki? Is that a rival gang?”
She looked at him, and Zeraki perceived sentiments that she was curious as to why he didn’t know who they were. She didn’t act on her curiosity, though.
“They aren’t a rival gang; they are a floor below pests and lowlife scum of Eudoria. Think of them as grave robbers… but they do it with their victims still alive.”
“I see.”
Well, the word did translate to ‘Scavenger’ in Mother’s Universal Language.
“No, you don’t.” She shook her head. “They deal in selling Extractor Constitutions from unsuspecting victims. If the Sequence is high enough, they don’t mind harvesting organs too. To them, every Extractor is a product just waiting to be processed and sold.”