"Yatsuke… Yatsuke. That name sounds familiar. Have I heard it before?" Takashi mumbled silently as he settled onto a cushion in his cozy home.
He had been trying to piece together his scattered memories ever since this game world became his reality, but it was no use. The fragments he could recall were all he already recalled.
Even now, everything felt surreal.
"I still have two more matches to win before I have enough points to exchange for a technique… and I need to devise a strategy to defeat a Yokai. But to upgrade that technique, I'll need demonic points. And to earn demonic points, I have to kill Yokai."
He was trying to break through the mental loop but found himself going around in circles in an infinite loop instead.
'Think, think, there might be something that I could look into. I have already done extensive research in this game already.'
Just as he was trying to recall things, a knock came from outside, startling Takashi as he frowned.
"Who is it?"
"The king has summoned you, our royal highness, the Ninth Prince."
A deep, resonating voice came from outside.
"Father?" Takashi tried to remember the man's face from his memories; however, he had no recollection of the man's face. He had never actually properly seen him face to face.
"What a trashy father to only call his son when he has shown his strength."
But it didn't matter to him. His only goal right now was to become stronger as soon as possible and protect his wife.
For that, he was willing to do anything and take advantage of everything that he had at his disposal.
"What happened, Husband?" Ishihara, who was cutting potatoes, suddenly froze in place.
"It's nothing, Ishihara. I will be back in a bit." Takashi shouted back and walked outside.
For a long time, Ishihara just stood there, her hand that was gripping her knife trembling for quite some time.
Then she gripped it even more firmly.
With a crack, the kitchen knife she was holding broke apart almost instantly. She was expressionless, but the utensils around her made clanking noises from the sheer pressure she emitted.
"If something happens to him, then I am gonna absolutely slaughter them."
Her tone was deep and murderous. She extended her hand, and every kitchen knife hovered up. At her will, she could move them with her thoughts.
***
The moment Takashi slid open the door, he was greeted by a samurai general.
Clad in the classical armour of a samurai general and with scars all over his face, the man nodded when he saw Takashi and spoke in a slightly softer tone: "Follow me." Then he handed a royal scroll sealed with the imprint of a dragon to him.
Takashi accepted the seal with two hands and opened it. After looking at all of the contents, he nodded his head.
"Please," he pointed forward, remembering his name, "General Raikuro."
"Very well, young prince." Raikuro turned around and swiftly guided Takashi without much explanation.
Takashi was expressionless all the way through.
As the sun cast its warm light on his figure, Takashi passed by a pond and glanced curiously at his reflection, he had never truly seen himself before.
Short black hair, skin as white as snow, and piercing crimson pupils.
He paused for a moment, then nodded approvingly, adjusting his hair carefully. 'Not bad, I really am handsome.'
Continuing his walk, a massive castle soon came into view. Unlike his own palace, this one was simply colossal, towering over all the others.
Samurai patrolled its grounds relentlessly with vigilance.
Hundreds of servants bustled about, tending to the exterior. Takashi couldn't even begin to imagine how many more worked inside, keeping the vast fortress clean and pristine.
As they were about to enter, the samurai quickly stopped them; even a general couldn't enter the place freely.
Raikuro respectfully handed the scroll to the samurai. The scroll was swiftly taken, and the samurai nodded their heads. Then their eyes lingered on Takashi with neutral eyes:
"You can enter."
"Okay." Takashi looked around the place and couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He had never visited the main palace before, but now that he had, he felt the pressure mounting.