Login with GoogleChapter 51: The Fujiwara Clan
The Fujiwara residence, situated in the southeast of old Edo, is a venerable house with a history spanning over three hundred and sixty years.
The surname Fujiwara, traced back over a thousand years, can be attributed to aristocrats and nobles of the past. However, due to intergenerational changes in surnames, the current Fujiwara lineage no longer retains its original status. Transitioning from being close to the emperor as the regent of Yingzhou to becoming an ordinary samurai family, they now face the enforcement of the sword hunt decree, which jeopardizes even the position of samurai clans.
The contemporary Shogun of the Shogunate chose to directly recruit the military from the commoner class. The conversion of officers directly from the Shogunate requires the endorsement of the Shogun. However, apart from a few truly skilled swordsmen, the ancient class of samurai could not directly transition into the military, thus gradually falling behind the times. In this regard, apart from having a longer history, the Fujiwara family and ordinary gangster organizations don't fundamentally differ in nature.
Samurai who turned to banditry are still better off than peasants toiling in the fields.
The atmosphere inside the Fujiwara residence today is gloomy and stagnant, akin to a stagnant pond.
Several prominent members of the Fujiwara household, a dozen or so in number, gathered around the table. Some were calmly sipping tea, while others played with their teacups or glanced up at the leader.
The atmosphere was oppressive until the moment the door opened, and a gust of cold wind blew in, bringing the stagnant waters back to life.
The individuals on both sides stood up and bowed as they watched a middle-aged man walk to the seat of honor and take a steady seat.
Fujiwara Shusaku, the head of the Fujiwara family, was one of the seven renowned swordsmen of the Warrior Society.
He was wearing a traditional Japanese kimono, with a hint of sweat clinging to his body, as if he had just vigorously perspired in the swordsmanship dojo, appearing both spirited and yet somewhat idle.
"Is everyone present?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then I won't beat around the bush," said Fujiwara Shusaku calmly. "My adopted son, Fujiwara Matsudaira, has passed away. The headless body was just brought back from the morgue at the hospital today, still awaiting the reattachment of its head."
As soon as the words fell, many people immediately revealed expressions of indignation.
The Fujiwara family possesses five deadly swords. In addition to Fujiwara Shusaku, there are four adopted sons, all of whom are exceptionally skilled in wielding the blade. Unexpectedly, one of the swords has been broken, causing a significant loss.
"What do you all have to say?"
Immediately, someone stood up.
"Of course, it is revenge. How could there be any reason not to strike back?"
There were also those who spoke up.
"Revenge also depends on the situation. Currently, we have no clarity on anything. How do you plan to seek revenge?"
"Then, investigate thoroughly!"
"I investigated, but there were no results. The people there firmly believe that it was Demon Cat causing chaos!"
"The Kanto Federation, a second-rate organization. Do you really trust those thugs' words? Demon Cat, as if we are watching 'Tales of a Hundred Beasts'!"
"Matsudaira died in the alley, unnoticed and unattended. Where will you go to find the culprit?"
"Undoubtedly, there must be a connection with the Sanada Group. Just grab their leader and interrogate him, then we'll find out!"
"The person from the Sanada Group…came early in the morning and is currently kneeling outside the door. He firmly believes that it was Demon Cat causing the chaos, unaware of his own involvement."
"Unaware? Ridiculous! Even if one knows nothing, does it mean that one should don'thing?"
"What do you intend to do, wielding a sword and causing a river of blood? Aren't you afraid of the authorities coming to your door?"
"I see that you have been frightened by the shogunate. We, samurais, have never feared the hunting dogs raised by the shogunate!"
"I am not afraid of the shogunate, but rather of you, this insane dog that doesn't even know how to retreat after being beaten. Going out there would also disgrace the reputation of the Fujiwara family."
"Hilarious! Do you think others are unaware that the Fujiwara family has lost a sword? You have devoured all the glory of the samurai, accumulated over three hundred years, with your treacherous and deceitful heart!"
"The glory of the samurai endures, but it is completely unrelated to your actions. The Fujiwara family still possesses four swords, so there is no need to fear the empty boasts of other clans!"
"You…"
"Hmph!"
The people present were divided into two factions, one advocating for a high-profile revenge, while the other advocated for discreetly uncovering the truth.
Amidst the clamor and contention, a voice suddenly emerged.
"Tsk tsk tsk…"
Fujiwara Shusaku was delightfully savoring the soup.
The voice was not loud, yet it caused the prominent figures present to immediately fall silent, resembling a group of noisy monkeys, unwilling to face the yawning tiger directly.
"This act of enjoying soup is truly a delightful endeavor," remarked Fujiwara Shusaku, smacking his lips. "Neither too salty nor bland, this ginseng chicken soup truly possesses an exquisite flavor."
He paused momentarily.
"Are you all going to stop making noise?"
"Continue arguing, keep on arguing."
No one answered, avoiding eye contact, and remained silent with heads bowed.
"Since there is nothing more to be said, let's disperse. This matter, even before it became a concern of the Fujiwara family, was initially my own affair. I will handle it accordingly."
The crowd obediently and with murmurs, responded and withdrew.
Soon, only two people remained inside the room.
"Shin, what is your perspective on this?" inquired the head of the Fujiwara household.
"The matter concerning the Demon Cat is likely not a fabrication," spoke Fujiwara Shin, a young man dressed in blue garments. "I inquired with the geisha in the establishment, and their accounts were remarkably consistent. It doesn't appear to be a deliberate silencing. Moreover, the Sanada Group lacks the capacity to execute such delicate maneuvers."
"And what is your opinion…"
"Third Brother was not killed by the Demon Cat," the young man affirmed. "The blade in his hand is an ancient sword from the Fujiwara family's collection. It has vanquished the Demon Cat before. During my studies abroad in the Great Ming Empire, I once used it to fend off a fierce wild tiger during a wilderness excursion. It is no ordinary ancient sword; it possesses the power to deter feline predators."
"But this blade is also broken,"
"Indeed, which is why it is highly unlikely that it was broken by the Demon Cat. The wound on Third Brother's neck also attests to this, indicating that he most likely met his demise due to…"
In silence, the young man flicked his finger, causing the cup before him to abruptly be cleaved into two pieces, with tea spilling from the gaps.
"Sword aura, you say." Fujiwara Shusaku's face remained as calm as water. "Indeed, he is killed by a master swordsman."
"Ordinary sword aura alone cannot easily cleave through steel and break iron. It is only after reaching this realm that one realizes the vastness of the heavens and earth… We must remain vigilant, and as for seeking revenge, we must carefully consider our options."
"Excellent, you truly possess the air of a great general," praised Fujiwara Shusaku, though his expression remained unpleased.
"Thank you for the praise, Father, but I still have many shortcomings," humbly expressed Fujiwara Shin, not daring to take credit.
"Let's keep Matsudaira's funeral low-key; he had always lived a rather inconspicuous life," suggested in a subdued tone.
"Yes," Shin responded.
"Furthermore, don't forget to make necessary preparations," Fujiwara Shusaku's expression turned serious. "This Saturday will be the solemn ceremony of your engagement to the daughter of the Hokusinn family. This matter holds greater importance than anything else and takes priority above all else!"
Fujiwara Shin pondered briefly.
"What about the response?"
"…Yes."
Upon seeing the meek Fujiwara Shin, Fujiwara Shusaku found him rather pleasing to the eye.
"The daughter of the Hokusinn family is undoubtedly worthy of you. I wonder what is causing your hesitation."
"I…," hesitated Fujiwara Shin, "After all, we haven't even met each other."
"Humph! If you want to achieve great things, marriage is only a bargaining chip," scolded Fujiwara Shusaku. "The Hokusinn family has produced several generations of swordsmen, and now they have the support of the shogunate. This matter is of utmost importance to the Fujiwara family. I will not allow you to make a decision on your own. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Fujiwara Shin stood up and bowed, bending his body and lowering his head, until his father left the meeting room. Only then did he straighten his posture, sighing deeply.
…
Sanada Ryoichi knelt outside the gates of the Fujiwara residence.
Fujiwara Matsudaira has passed away.
His troubles escalated, and he couldn't fathom it at all. How could Fujiwara Matsudaira, who could even wound demons, silently perish in an alleyway?
However, given the circumstances, he had no choice but to acknowledge that he could only resort to the oldest and most effective methods.
Kowtow on the ground.
Burdened with confusion and remorse, he waited like that, as time slipped away second by second, gradually eroding his inner being.
He knelt for a long time.
Finally, as if seeking validation, he heard the sound of footsteps, lifted his head, and the door opened.
The person stood at the doorway, looking down on him with a condescending gaze, as though staring at a dying man or a begging dog wagging its tail.
He remained silent, leaving behind a bowl of chicken soup.
"Drink it."
Sanada Ryoichi's throat clenched as he suspected poison in the concoction, yet he dared not inquire. Beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead, but the thought of leaving meant certain death. With a determined resolve, he reluctantly tilted his head back and consumed the bowl of chicken soup.
After he finished drinking the bowl of chicken soup, a subtle change finally appeared in Fujiwara Shusaku's gaze.
"Not bad…"
"If you want to survive, come with me. I shall bestow upon you a tattoo."
