Tokyo: The life of a literary giant begins with home self-defense!

Chapter 422 During the real family banquet
It's a kind of quiet that's hard to come by.

Just as the once flowing stream had been cut off, the only sound in the air was the old man's soft cough.

cough.

cough cough.

The elderly person was sick and fragile, as if a gust of wind could knock them over.

"Ku-Mr. Kujo!"

The one speaking was Kujo Jinya, who wanted Ryukawa Tetsu to return the key. His face, covered with age spots, seemed somewhat distorted in the flickering candlelight.

"I'm sorry to have made Miss Takeda laugh at me."

The old man didn't glance at anyone else, or rather, he spent most of his time with Long Chuanche.

Looking at his grandson, and at the fiancée he had chosen for him.

The old man, supported by Imamura Yukawa, walked over and nodded to Takeda Maki.

Takeda Maki didn't speak, but Ryukawa Tetsu could tell she was a little nervous.

"Where are the three hundred axemen? Only two are young and strong; the rest are old, weak, sick, or disabled?"

Ryukawa Tetsu started speaking in a joking manner, which surprised Kujo Fujitaka.

"Yes, there are only two young and strong ones."

The old man looked around as if he had just noticed the others, then turned to look at another group of people.

A group of people who seemed to have wandered into a deep mountain forest and encountered a tiger.

Some people were making hoarse sounds and couldn't speak until Kujo Fujitaka waved his hand and the group of people prostrated themselves on their knees.

Long Chuanche didn't understand why they were so afraid, even though the old man was such a frail person.

"Have someone bring some more food."

The old man seemed hungry and hid behind the calligraphy book, listening to a lot of conversation.

At this moment, he said this to Imamura Yukawa, and then gestured for Ryukawa Tetsu to come and help him.

"I'm the only young and strong one left."

Long Chuanche grumbled, "If someone were to be ruthless, the old man's fake funeral would turn into a real one."

The old man chuckled and remained silent, letting Long Chuanche help him sit down under the calligraphy scroll.

That calligraphy copybook was long and large.

The words "floating and sinking, prosperity and decline are unpredictable" trailed from the top of the eaves, which were more than three meters high, all the way to the ground.

After the old man sat down, Long Chuanche noticed a knife holder under the calligraphy copybook.

The knife rack held three types of knives: ta, katana, and wakizashi, which were completely invisible to Ryukawa Tetsu sitting below.

"Although our family ranks among the noble families, we produced two shoguns during the Kamakura period: Kujō Yorikatsu and Kujō Yoritsugu."

Seeing Long Chuanche looking at the knife rack with some curiosity, the old man explained something to him.

Shogun, a title similar to a military commander, was the de facto ruler during the Japanese shogunate era.

Long Chuanche nodded as if he understood, but he was actually more curious about how the other party had managed to place such a knife in an open room without anyone noticing its design.

He sat at the lower end, the knife rack hidden by the table.

Only when the old man takes him to sit at the very top, in the very center, can he see it.

It was as if the power of life and death was in the hands of one person, and Long Chuanche saw that some people below were already trembling.

"Che yeah, cough cough."

The old man didn't seem inclined to speak to anyone else; he simply pointed to the old man in the first seat of the second row.

"kill him."

The cold, icy words were like cold, venomous fangs, and the man named Kujo Jinya shuddered.

"Longchuan Che!"

In the middle of the room, no one dared to speak after the old man came out. Even Kujo Jinya, who heard the old man say that he wanted Ryukawa Tetsu to kill him, remained silent.

Only Takeda Maki, this woman, rose in terror, as if afraid that Ryukawa Tetsu would stab someone in the chest with a knife.

"Don't be nervous, don't be nervous."

The old man seemed to feel that this was somewhat inappropriate, and looked towards the Kujou Jinya.

"Tachi or wakizashi?"

It's a normal question. The katana is the samurai sword that a warrior typically uses in combat, while the wakizashi is shorter…

"It is frequently used for seppuku (ritual suicide)."

Long Chuanche murmured something, the old man's words seeming to ask the other party whether to wait for him to arrive or not.

Suicide.

The already quiet atmosphere became so still that you could hear a pin drop after hearing those words. Nijou Maki sat on the ground, stunned, while Kujou Jinya closed his eyes in anguish.

"What happened today has nothing to do with the plains."

Everyone present knew.

Everything was predetermined the moment Kujo Fujitaka appeared.

They were destined to die; they were destined never to leave this house.

"Please let him go."

Kujo Jinya knelt on the ground in sorrow. The old man didn't speak, but simply waved his hand calmly.

He got up, took the knife, and went behind the calligraphy book.

Something bright red splashed onto the withered and flourishing surface.

The young man, who was only a few years older than Long Chuanche, was trembling with fear and wanted to run away.

However, they hadn't run far from the door.

"what!"

A mournful sound, like the pitiful cry of a young fawn, drifted from the darkness.

"Didn't you say you'd let him go?"

Something disappeared so quickly that Tatsukawa Tetsuya didn't even have time to feel panic.

He watched as the old man slowly poured a cup of cold tea into his rice.

That was the ochazuke (rice with tea) that Imamura Yukawa had just brought him.

Did I say that?

The old man ate his tea-soaked rice slowly, as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with him.

A father who committed suicide, a son who passed away.

Everything seemed less important than the rice porridge in front of me.

"It seems there really isn't one."

Long Chuanche thought about it for a moment, and realized that the old man hadn't nodded or agreed at all.

On the contrary, Kujo Jinya got up too quickly, as if afraid that the old man would change his mind.

"They're still playing dirty tricks at a time like this."

The old man picked up the tea and took a sip, but the cold tea made him cough twice.

"who is the next?"

Kujo Fujitaka asked this question to Tatsukawa Tetsu. It seems that he chose Kujo Jinya first because they had a conflict with Tatsukawa Tetsu.

Panic permeated the White Academy, and the faint smell of blood wafted through the air.

"let's go."

With a forced smile, Maki Takeda walked up to Tatsukawa Tetsuya and took his hand, which was beginning to grow cold.

"Toruya."

The old man didn't stop him, he just coughed lightly twice.

"Even if you don't kill them, they won't let you go."

In a moment, Tatsukawa Tetsuya understood something.

Rather than bringing out those with ill intentions, the old man's funeral was more about making him understand a fact.

“You will always have our family’s blood in your veins. Even if you don’t fight, someone will force you to fight.”

As Maki Takeda said, he is now too closely tied to the Writers' Association, and those people may not dare to directly touch him.

but…

Longchuan Che looked at the executive officer's face.

"I'm fine, don't believe that woman."

Takeda Maki seemed to notice what Ryukawa Tetsu was thinking, and looked at the boy's increasingly gloomy face.

“I own 12 percent of the shares in the Otoha Group, and the Takashi family will not allow anyone to easily touch me.”

A dangerous feeling flashed through Long Chuanche's mind, but he shrugged in response to the old man's question.

I don't know, feel free to do as you please.

He didn't seem too afraid, and he also showed that he wouldn't interfere too much in the affairs of the Kujo family.

The old man picked up the tea, squinted slightly, and then waved his hand.

Someone threw Nijo Maki in front of the three of them like a dead dog.

(End of this chapter)