"L-Lord Logan… Hello…"There was a tremble in Mirage's voice—undisguised fear.Among the summoning beasts, there was an informal circle, a kind of collective memory. And Logan's reputation? Infamous. Legendary. A name whispered even among their kind.Mirage had been alive since the time of the Second Mizukage. It had seen powerful shinobi rise and fall.And right now?It wanted nothing more than to quietly hide away in its shell.Logan stood calmly before it and asked, "Why did you become Hori Masashi's summoning beast?"Beside him, Terumi Mei perked up, catching the subtle note of doubt in Logan's voice. "You think… there's something strange about that?"Logan nodded slowly.Hori Masashi was over forty years old and barely stronger than a mid-tier Chūnin.That wasn't inherently suspicious—but his skill level was simply not enough to contract a legendary beast like Mirage.He wasn't the type.Too many things had "just happened":He had just happened to come across Mirage.He had just happened to be one of Logan's students.He had just happened to be blocking their road to Kyoto.Too many coincidences in a row could only mean one thing:Someone was orchestrating this.And Logan wanted to know who.Was it to test him? To slow him down?But if that was the case, the one behind the scenes had to know that Hori Masashi and Mirage were no match for him.If it had been Gengetsu himself—or Ghost Lantern Hozuki—maybe then it would have been a problem.So, was the goal to shake Logan's heart?Terumi Mei crossed her arms and huffed. "If they were trying to shake you, they clearly underestimated you."Logan gave her a sidelong look but said nothing.At that moment, Mirage finally began to speak.It recounted its version of events:It had been living peacefully near a riverbed when a mysterious attacker ambushed it. Strong, relentless. Mirage had barely managed to escape, but it was badly injured and collapsed near death.That was when Hori Masashi appeared.He didn't know what kind of creature Mirage was, but he took care of it—cleaned its wounds, fed it, sheltered it. In the end, out of gratitude, Mirage signed a summoning contract with him."Hmm…" Terumi Mei tilted her head and murmured, "That sounds just like the old story of the Apple Snail Girl."Mirage twitched.It really wanted to correct her—"It's a clam, not a snail!"—but with Logan standing next to it, it dared not speak a word in protest.Logan's expression didn't change as he asked the next question."Can you identify which village your attacker was from?""I… can't," Mirage answered truthfully. "They weren't wearing a forehead protector, and the ninjutsu they used were all common techniques. I couldn't tell who they were affiliated with."Logan gave a curt nod.It didn't matter. As long as the person behind the scenes still wanted to interfere, they would show their hand eventually.After discussing it, and with both Terumi Mei and Mirage's consent, Logan helped finalize a new Summoning Contract—this time between Terumi Mei and Mirage.After decades, Mirage would finally return to Kirigakure, now with a new master.With the fog lifted, Logan led the caravan of freed captives back to Youma County. On either side of the road, town residents lined up in droves, clapping and cheering as if welcoming heroes.Of course—it wasn't spontaneous.Behind the crowd stood organized samurai with stern expressions, silently keeping the civilians in place.At the end of the road, the County Governor, Shirakawa, bowed deeply and greeted Logan with a wide, practiced smile.Logan approached the portly governor and tilted his chin slightly toward the "welcoming crowd.""Was this your idea of a celebration?""Of course it was!" Governor Shirakawa said, chuckling. "Just my humble way of showing respect to you, Lord Logan."He leaned in and added in a quieter tone, "Don't worry, I know your rules. Every person here was paid—out of my own pocket, not public funds."Logan gave him a faint nod of approval.The entire mission—rescue, investigation, and battle—had taken less than an hour. With time still to spare, Terumi Mei was already organizing the wagons and preparing to move out of Youma County.Samurai and servants loaded crates of food and supplies onto their carriages. As everyone busied themselves, Logan called out to the governor.Shirakawa ambled over with two slices of chilled watermelon in hand.Logan took one, then asked calmly, "Before I leave, I have a question.""Anything, Lord Logan.""How did this bandit group even show up in your territory in the first place?"The governor handed over the slice and sighed. "Truthfully, I don't know how they appeared. But the first moment I saw you, I knew exactly how they'd disappear."He gave a small smile. "They were destined to die by your hand.""…Destined?""Yes."Logan stared silently at his watermelon slice, thinking.Who could orchestrate this kind of destiny?Only one answer surfaced in his mind.Oda Ieyasu, the Daimyō of the Land of Water."…I see. Thank you.""There's no need to thank me," Shirakawa replied, chewing on his watermelon. "I said nothing. You heard nothing.""Fair enough."Logan turned and walked off.The governor stayed seated on his stool, slurping watermelon juice. His plump wife appeared beside him and wiped his mouth with a cloth.In a hushed voice, she asked, "But aren't we loyal to the daimyo? Why would you—?"Shirakawa continued eating, speaking in a slow, muffled voice, "Tell me—who do you think will win? Logan… or the daimyo?""…I don't know.""Exactly. Neither do I. So, I have to bet on both."He threw away the watermelon rind and spat out the seeds."And besides… Lord Oda never hesitates to sacrifice subordinates for his 'big picture.' So as a governor…"He stood up, brushing dust from his robes."…I should have some backbone of my own, don't you think?"---The journey continued smoothly.Logan rode at the front of the caravan, practicing the Golden Spin as he traveled.Yet despite his incredible talent in Ripple Energy, his aptitude with the Golden Spin was… tragic.It had been four months since he acquired the technique, and he was still stuck on Lesson 1.He could throw an iron ball with spin—that's it.Lesson 2: Don't let your muscles notice—still unreachable.Snap—Another iron ball spun from his hand, hit the target, and bounced perfectly back to his palm.Logan stared at it, deep in thought."There's some kind of tension between the Ripple and the Golden Spin," he muttered. "Lesson 2 says: 'Let the spin stay on the surface of your skin. Let your muscles forget it exists.'""Lesson 3: 'Believe in the spin. Have more faith in the spin itself than in your strength or technique.'"As for Lessons 4 and 5?They were still so far off, it wasn't even worth mentioning.Both levels required a spiritual discipline that transcended physical ability. One needed to throw not with muscles—but with belief. With soul.It wasn't about power.Even a weak body, like Johnny Joestar's in the original scrolls, could unleash miraculous power if they truly believed in the spin.But Logan's problem was the opposite.His body was too strong.He could control his body down to the cellular, even genetic level. Forgetting his muscles? Impossible. Even when he tried to simulate sensory shutdown, the Golden Spin didn't respond.This kind of shortcut didn't count.He sighed and pocketed the iron ball."I know, I know. 'The shortest shortcut is the long way.' Still… how long is this path supposed to be?""We're here!" Terumi Mei's voice broke his thoughts.She pointed into the distance, her eyes sparkling.Ahead stood a massive, blue-gray city wall, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.Beneath it, foot traffic bustled—traders, pilgrims, and travelers of all kinds heading toward the gates.Just like them.They had arrived in time for the Water Garden Festival.At the top of the gate was a tall plaque with black lacquer and golden characters.Two words, gleaming in the sunset:Kyoto.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)