Chapter 46: The Realm Of Koryū Grandmasters
The last period was history class—already a snooze-fest on its own, but the teacher had a special talent for making it even worse by just droning straight from the textbook. Everyone was fighting to keep their eyes open. The guy might lecture like a fossil, but his questions? Pure evil. If you weren't paying razor-sharp attention or didn't actually know the material, he'd nail you with something impossible, then make you stand for the rest of the period as punishment. While everyone feared the math teacher like she was some demon nun, this history teacher just earned pure, seething hatred.
Takumi was running on fumes. He'd burned through twice as much time as everyone else today, so his body clock was completely wrecked and screaming for sleep. Right as his eyelids started winning the battle, someone poked him in the side. He turned—yep, Yuu sliding him a note.
"You look dead on your feet?"
"Yeah… way too much stuff today. Should've chugged a Red Bull or something. But seriously, this class is torture. Feels like a year per minute. How much longer till the bell?"
Yuu glanced at her watch:
"Endure. Only ten years left."
"Huh?"
Takumi blinked, then caught her tiny smirk. Whoa, Yuu-chan can actually tease? Nice. Okay, ten minutes left. Just gotta survive and crash hard when he got home.
"That student over there."
The history teacher suddenly closed his book and stared down from the podium.
"Is my class amusing to you? Stand up and explain."
"It's not."
"What do you mean 'it's not'? Are you saying I'm not amusing, or you're not amused?"
The teacher's tone was pure aggression. Takumi wisely shut his mouth. No point arguing with this guy. The teacher adjusted his glasses.
"Let's test your history foundation then. Tell me—why do Western names put the given name before the family name, while in east it's the opposite?"
Dead silence fell over the room. Brutal question. The real answer boiled down to cultural differences, but how the hell do you phrase that without sounding like a cop-out? Takumi thought for a second, then said:
"Because in the West, society only cares who you are. They don't give a damn about your father. But here? Nobody cares who you are—they care way more about who your dad is."
The entire class froze. A few people almost clapped. It was savage, undeniable, and technically correct in spirit even if it wasn't textbook history. The teacher frowned deeply, finally muttered,
"Sit down. Don't space out in my class again. Also—that kind of answer gets zero points on an exam."
Takumi let out a quiet breath. The adrenaline killed most of his drowsiness. A new note slid over from Yuu:
"Brutally sharp answer."
"Thanks."
He wrote back. They exchanged small smiles.
Even the slowest time eventually ends. The bell finally rang. Takumi stretched hugely. Yuu was already packing up.
"If you're that exhausted, rest properly, okay?"
"Got it. Food, then face-plant into bed. And seriously—thanks again for covering my absence excuse."
"Onii-sama! Sorry for interrupting your lovey-dovey moment, but you still owe me~"
Haruto popped up the second class ended, grinning like a shark. Yuu's face instantly flushed red. Without another word she grabbed her bag and speed-walked out. Takumi yawned.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. What promise?"
"Family bucket meal. Two of them. Don't play dumb, or else… heh heh."
"You little extortionist. Not today—I've got stuff. Tomorrow after class, deal?"
"Done! See ya!"
"Damn it… budget's already busted this month. Money magic really is stronger than mana magic…"
Takumi stuffed his books away, shouldered his bag, and shuffled yawning down the stairs toward the bike parking shed. Halfway across the field he suddenly turned his head.
"Still planning to jump me again?"
Behind him stood that sickle-haired punk from the boxing club. The guy's face was dark.
"Last time I was careless. Come to the boxing club if you've got guts. One more round."
"Are you ordering me around?"
Takumi gave a lazy smile. Then—mana flared. In an instant he became a peak seventh-dan black-belt master. He threw a single punch.
The sheer speed and power created a wall of painful wind that slammed forward!
The sickle-head's eyes widened in shock. He swayed side to side, retreating with butterfly steps.
"Burn… burn brighter!"
Takumi ignited another burst of mana—now second-tier combat strength. The explosive increase in power turned the fist wind almost solid. His speed doubled again, shattering human limits. The other guy didn't even have time to react before the fist seemed to grow massive in his vision. That terrifying force made his blood run cold. If it connected, his skull would shatter.
Whoosh!
The punch grazed right past his face. Takumi stopped and said calmly,
"I've got an important appointment. No time to play with you. This isn't some hot-blooded fighting manga. Don't bother me again—or next time I won't miss."
He walked off without looking back. The sickle-head stood frozen. Then he felt something warm trickle down his cheek. He touched it—his hand came away bright red.
"He… created a 'sickle weasel' cut with just the punch wind…"
Takumi rode his scooter out the back gate this time instead of the front. He parked beside the stone guardian lion outside and waited. A few minutes later a luxury car with an unfamiliar emblem pulled up. A tall figure in men's clothing stepped out, holding an umbrella, and approached.
"Are you Takumi-san?"
"Yeah."
Long black hair tied into a neat ponytail that cascaded down her back. Delicate brows, light makeup on flawless skin—elegant, refined, almost serene. Yet she wore a perfectly tailored men's suit that still somehow emphasized every breathtaking curve of her figure. Peach-blossom cheeks, almond eyes, refined nose, cherry lips. Gentle… but with a faint, unmistakable air of authority.
Takumi recognized her. He'd seen her picking up Ryūko before, and once watched her casually flatten five thugs who tried to scam her. She was strong. Reminded him of those legendary female police captains from old cop dramas.
"Here's your umbrella. Ojou-sama asked me to return it. Thank you again for the other day."
The suited beauty handed it over politely, gave a small nod, then returned to the car. Moments later the luxury sedan pulled away.
Takumi scratched the back of his head.
"…That's it? I thought she specially asked to meet at the back gate for something big—like maybe she's a witch or has mana or something. Turns out it really was just returning an umbrella. Sigh. I got my hopes up a little. A blonde ojou-sama with a secret 'dark magical girl' side would've been peak moe…"
He stowed the umbrella and rode off.
After he left, a boy stepped out from behind the rear gate—gold-rimmed glasses, scholarly aura. He adjusted his frames.
"Interesting. That unremarkable guy pulled off some sneaky little tricks while we weren't looking. Ren, was his fighting skill really that impressive?"
"Yes. Already far beyond normal black-belt levels. He's reached the realm of koryū grandmasters from the samurai era."
"Hmm. Hiding his strength quite well. Seems combat is his favorite trump card. If he loves solving things with violence… maybe it's time to let Ennan Tatsumi teach him a lesson."
Takumi of course had no idea someone was already scheming against him. He just kept riding toward his little sister's middle school. When he reached the gate he dialed her number. Normally she picked up instantly—but today it just kept ringing.
"The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later."
"What the hell…?"
A bad feeling hit him hard. Without hesitation he locked the scooter and strode straight into the school grounds.
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