Yashiro the Blind

Yashiro remained motionless, not even holding the girl's hand. He simply turned his right hand, the tip of his longsword drawing a semicircle in the air, pointing at the girl's back. Without making any further moves, Kato stopped in his tracks once again.

He slumped his shoulders and sighed deeply: "That's going too far."

"Senior brother, why don't you try harder? For example... have a fight with me."

"Don't even think about it!"

These words, once spoken, caused Kato to spring to his feet as if he'd been startled. He waved his hands and shook his head violently, exclaiming, "If I were to fight a monster like you, I wouldn't have enough lives! Alright, get to the point! Stop waving your sword around like you're trying to scare anyone..."

He spoke the last sentence very softly, clearly feeling extremely guilty.

Yashiro didn't expose him: "Then may I ask you, senior brother, who wanted to kidnap Hatsume?"

"This can't be said!"

"kindness?"

"Hmph! Threatening me won't work. I just can't say it. Don't let my current state fool you; I'm still a ninja. Even if you stab me with a sword, I won't reveal my employer's information!"

His words were righteous and resounding...

But she immediately showed her fear again, "By the way, I know you've always been well-behaved and sensible, respecting the elderly and caring for the young. You certainly wouldn't be so cruel as to stab me right through the heart, right...right?"

Yashiro chuckled, and with a flick of her right hand, the longsword vanished, leaving only a simple cane lying quietly before her knees.

Kato didn't dare turn around for a moment, only glancing behind him out of the corner of his eye. When he saw her action, he was stunned for a moment: "You're really not going to stab me? Have you changed your mind?"

"Just as my senior brother said, we should respect the elderly and care for the young."

"...Then...I'll leave?"

"please."

Even though the girl showed no intention of making a move, Kato remained skeptical, inching his way toward the door. After a few steps, he heard Yashiro call out again, "Wait."

"I knew it wouldn't be that simple."

He wasn't surprised at all. He turned around abruptly, his wrinkled face displaying a heroic expression of defiance, "What exactly do you want? Just say it clearly, let this old man die knowing why!"

"Senior brother, you misunderstand." The girl sighed. "But I thought about it again. As the saying goes, there are priorities and people have different degrees of closeness and distance. I have only known this child for a few days, but you and I have known each other for a long time. It is only right and proper that I should stand on your side. How can I bear to see you fail your mission and be ridiculed and looked down upon?"

Kato pursed his lips, looking unconvinced: "Get to the point. This old man is in a hurry to go back to sleep. I don't have time to chat with you about this nonsense."

"The key point is..." She pointed to Chuya sleeping peacefully on the bed, "Senior brother can take this child directly to your employer, and I will not stop you."

"really?"

"really!"

……

Chapter Twelve: The Murderous Ronin

The night was cool as water, the wind was light as smoke, and a faint white mist hung over the branches and treetops, giving this desolate grove a touch of ethereal and dreamlike charm.

Two figures leaned against the tree, one standing and one sitting. The one standing was about thirty years old, with fair skin and fine clothes, clearly of noble or wealthy status. He looked like the kind of person who usually gave orders and commanded others.

But at this moment, he showed none of his usual arrogance. Instead, he appeared timid and fearful, glancing occasionally at his companions before looking out into the woods again, looking completely uneasy.

The other person, however, remained seated as calm as Mount Tai.

This was a burly man with a head of messy, long hair, but unlike the pure black hair of most Japanese people, his messy hair was more of a dark red color.

He was shirtless, his muscles bulging like a towering bronze and iron structure. Dozens of scars covered his chest and back, some already faded and turned white, while others had just scabbed over. The alternation of old and new scars made him look quite terrifying.

His face wasn't much better either; several long, vertical scars, resembling centipedes, crisscrossed and completely ruined the man's original appearance. Half of his nose was missing, and he only had one ear left. Only his light brown eyes remained intact, flashing with a fierce light that made people afraid to look directly at him.

And lying across his knees was a heavy katana.

Generally speaking, if a greatsword is used in actual combat, its length usually does not exceed five feet, otherwise it would be difficult to wield. Only a few naturally strong individuals can be exceptions.

For example, the famous hero of the northern lands, Mahakasa Naotaka, is said to have used a great sword that was about five feet three inches long, which is about 1.75 meters in later times. When he wielded it, it was like a raging lion or tiger, with a magnificent momentum that made it impossible for anyone to stand in his way.

This was already a top-tier expert in the world, but the large sword in front of the man was even more formidable. With its hilt and sheath, it was over two meters long, and the sheath was covered with large patches of dark red blood, which any discerning person could tell was long-dried blood.

Killing someone with a knife is not unusual, but to beat an enemy with the scabbard without drawing the knife—judging from the bloodstains above, this is far more than one way to die—is obviously much more cruel.

"Judging by the time, that ninja should be arriving around now."

A cold wind blew through the forest, and amidst the rustling of the leaves, the man with a scarred face suddenly spoke.

But he didn't turn to look at his only companion beside him, not even glancing at him. He kept staring at the greatsword in front of him, his rough hands gently stroking the scabbard with extreme tenderness, as if he were touching not an inanimate object, but the smooth, silky skin of his lover.

"Yes, yes." Hearing his voice, the other person who had been pacing around the woods stopped and replied somewhat awkwardly, "The appointed time... it's almost here, if nothing unexpected happens..."

This statement clearly lacked confidence.

The scarred man frowned upon hearing this: "Could something unexpected happen?"

"I don't know, but... these people are no pushovers. Although Kato Danzo is quite famous, especially skilled in agility, he should have no problem stealing a young girl in the dead of night. But... but... there's always a chance of something going wrong..."

"If this matter is so important to you, instead of seeking out a third-rate figure like Kato Danzo, wouldn't it be safer to spend more money from the beginning and hire a real expert from Iga?"

"Heh... Heh heh, what Mishima-kun said makes sense."

The well-dressed man chuckled awkwardly, his embarrassment evident. He maintained a smile on his face, but inwardly he was cursing the other man to the core—what a joke it is to talk without understanding the situation, what a joke it is to say that you can't afford to live if you're not in charge.

This is a typical example!

In this day and age, there are many extraordinary people, especially ninja groups who are skilled at scaling walls and gathering intelligence. They are the right-hand men of the warring states.

Similar to the wandering priestesses of the Takeda clan, the Fuma ninjas of the Hojo clan, the Koga ninjas of the Rokkaku clan, and the Saru-ninjas of the Nagao clan, these powerful ninjas mostly served a certain faction and were not much different from samurai in a sense, except for their different roles.

However, there are also mercenary organizations that do not rely on any particular daimyo, but instead specialize in doing things for money. The most famous and well-known of these is the Iga Gunsan, the birthplace of ninjutsu.

As is well known, Iga ninjas never ask who their employers are. As long as they can afford it, they will not hesitate to fight even if it means brothers turning against each other or fathers and sons killing each other. Despite their cold-bloodedness, they are also extremely reliable.

There's only one small problem:

Their fees are really expensive...

Otherwise, why would this man and his organization choose to hire a slovenly and irresponsible ronin like Kato Danzo instead of the highly regarded Iga? The most important reason is simply that they don't have the money!

Even a hero can be brought down by a single penny; this truth holds true throughout history.

However, considering that their organization wasn't particularly close to the scarred man, and that it wasn't appropriate to state the reason directly, they could only chuckle awkwardly and stammer as they steered the conversation away from there.

Fortunately, the other party didn't care—or rather, as far as he knew, this ronin named Mishima Doppo was basically uninterested in most things in the world.

He neither strives for fame nor pursues profit, nor is he interested in women or men. He does not indulge in gluttony, abstains from alcohol, and lives a life like that of a most devout ascetic.

He has only one hobby:

kill.

No one knows how many people he has killed, nor does anyone know where he came from or what his past was like. When Mishima Doppo first appeared before people, he was already in this miserable state, covered in wounds, carrying a large sword, wandering around and fighting with people.

Although he also accepted employment from others, he didn't need much pay. Apart from the simplest food and lodging, Mishima only asked for a fight to be had and someone to kill.

If no satisfactory opponent appears, he might even turn around and massacre the forces that have taken him in. In fact, several samurai groups and even local powerful clans have been wiped out by Mishima Doppo as a result.

A ferocious beast that is difficult to tame.

But the more this is the case, the more confident those in power want to recruit him. The role such a fierce general can play on the battlefield is absolutely unimaginable.

That was what the man originally thought too.

However, at this moment, when he was actually by her side, he couldn't help but feel a little regretful.

Perhaps sensing the man's unease and fear, Mishima Doppo suddenly chuckled: "Don't worry, I won't kill you for now. After all, this child isn't so hungry that he'd eat anything. If the food is too bad, he'll get an upset stomach."

As he spoke, he patted the scabbard, and it was obvious who he was referring to as "that child."

"Hehe... Brother Mishima, you misunderstand." The man wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice trembling slightly. He truly dared not delve deeper into this topic. "I'm just afraid that if something goes wrong, and the higher-ups blame us, we won't be in a good position..."

"Ok?"

"No, no, no, it's me who can't get away with this! With Mishima's abilities, who in this world can blame you?" He quickly changed his tune.

Mishima Doppo snorted, his expression softening somewhat, seemingly quite pleased with the man's flattery. After a pause, he asked, "Is your target this time the children of Tenji Masayuki?"

“That’s right.” The man nodded. “Since you know this name, Brother Mishima, you must have heard about what happened more than ten years ago, right?”

"I only heard about it by chance. Thirteen years ago, Tenji Masayuki of Suruga, Amanuma Dokura of Shinano, and Tenfu Goro of Iga were said to be incredibly audacious. Relying on their exceptional skills, they trespassed into the castles of various daimyo as if they were nothing. Later, they even broke into the Imperial Palace and stole several priceless treasures..."

At this point, Mishima Doppo suddenly realized, "You want to find out the whereabouts of those treasures from the Tenji siblings?"

“Wealth is indeed tempting,” the man chuckled. “In today’s world, ordinary people can only dream of having enough to eat and wear, but a painting or a tea set in the hands of a daimyo can easily fetch unimaginable prices. There are even stories of people exchanging valuable tea sets for a city and becoming the ruler of a country and a city in one fell swoop… If you didn’t know that, that would be fine, but with the clues right in front of you, who wouldn’t be tempted?”

"But those three notorious thieves from back then, Tenma Dokuro disappeared long ago, and Tenfu Goro was also killed five years ago. Along with the entire Tenfu clan, dozens of people were wiped out overnight by their enemies. It seems that only his little daughter, who was born blind, was found at the scene. It is unknown whether she was rescued or not. The Iga people searched for a long time afterward, but they found no trace of her. To this day, there is no news of her, and it is unknown whether she is alive or dead."

"...The last one, Tianzhi Zhengxing, died of illness many years ago. Now, if we're talking about who else knows the whereabouts of those treasures, it's probably only this young brother and sister."

The man licked his dry lips and looked up at the edge of the woods again, but all he could see was the endless, desolate night.

"...To be honest, we originally wanted to capture the older brother directly for questioning, but unfortunately he was very skilled and alert, and he managed to escape in a moment of inattention. We had no choice but to take his sister hostage to force him to show himself."

He sighed, half-jokingly, "If we could, we wouldn't want to lay a hand on a child... we'd be punished for it."

Mishima Doppo responded with a sneer.

The man touched his nose, feeling a little embarrassed. He wanted to say something more, but couldn't think of a good topic. However, if he remained silent, the atmosphere would only become more and more agonizing. Just as he was struggling with this dilemma, suddenly, a dusty gray shadow swept over from afar!

The shadow, like a peregrine falcon, left a series of afterimages in the night as it perched and leaped from the branch, before landing in front of the two people in an instant.

It was a strange-looking old man, dressed in tattered clothes, with unkempt hair and a mouthful of yellow teeth when he smiled. He carried a ninja sword on his back and a seven or eight-year-old girl who was unconscious on his shoulder.

It was none other than Kato Danzo, known as "Flying Kite".

His gaze immediately fell on the little girl's face. After confirming that it was indeed her, the man felt a great weight lifted from his heart and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You finally came."

"I have accomplished my mission." Kato Danzo chuckled and stretched out his hand. "As we agreed before, you pay first, then inspect the goods."

"Take it!" The man readily agreed, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a bulging leather bag, which he then tossed over.

Kato Danzo gave a "heh" sound, reached out to take it, and the leather bag landed in his palm. After weighing it in his hand, the smile on his face suddenly disappeared.

"what do you mean?"

"what do you mean?"

"Stop pretending!"

Kato Danzo's eyes widened, and he suddenly tossed the leather bag above his head. The next moment, a flash of silver light appeared, and he drew his ninja sword from behind him and swung it. The bag instantly tore open, and its contents spilled onto the ground with a clatter.

It wasn't filled with gold or silver; it was clearly a pile of hard stones.

"Trying to play these tricks on me? Are you tired of living?!"

He glared angrily and shouted.

The man on the other side remained calm, showing no sign of anger or embarrassment at being exposed.

As he took a few steps back, he explained to the ronin sitting on the ground, "Brother Mishima, that's why we didn't ask the Iga ninjas for help, but instead found a lone wolf like him—it's a clean break, and it's less likely to be retaliated against later."

"So that's what you were planning."

Mishima Doppo grinned, propped himself up on his knees, and swayed as he stood up. With a flick of his right hand, he hoisted his two-meter-long sword, sheath still attached, onto his shoulder.

His flamboyant killing intent caused Kato Danzo's expression to change, and he gripped his sword even tighter.

"Old man, leave him here, and I'll spare your life."

"Such arrogance!" Not one to back down, Kato Danzo scoffed. "What if I said no?"

"Then..."

Before he finished speaking, Mishima Doppo suddenly leaped forward!

Despite his massive size, he was as agile as an ape in that leap. While in mid-air, he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly with both hands, and brought the sword and scabbard down on his head!

The attack came with overwhelming force and incredible speed. Kato Danzo was carrying someone on his shoulder, and in his haste to dodge, he had no time to spare. He could only let out a strange cry, raise his ninja sword above his head, and half-block, half-parry, exchanging blows with Mishima—

"Pfft!"

With a pitiful croak like a frog being crushed, the short, thin ninja sword snapped in two. The old man spat out a mouthful of blood into the air, his body flying backward and crashing to the ground like a tattered sack, raising a cloud of dust. But he rolled over, suddenly got up, and using both hands and feet, turned and fled.

"Leave the people behind!"

The shout was like thunder, rumbling all the way over. Kato Danzo glanced at it out of the corner of his eye and saw that the towering figure was following closely behind him, the great sword raised high, about to strike him again in the next moment.

That little devil has caused a lot of harm!

He cursed inwardly, then shrugged and tossed the unconscious girl aside, hoping to slow her down a bit. Freed from the burden of carrying her, he was able to escape even faster.

"Humph."