The current Kiryuu Kazuma had a tough time in his previous life. He had worked hard for many years before finally being promoted to a "Commercial Representative."
His high school and university friends all said that programmers had the most tiring job. They all believed that the work of commercial representatives at foreign trade companies was easy and lucrative.
However, although the title sounded impressive, commercial representatives actually spent their days running errands.
There was not much of a difference between a high-level errand runner and a normal one. In any case, they would eventually realize that the high-quality life coveted by many was still so unreachable.
Kazuma had always wanted to be a successful person, but after spending so many years in the workplace, he had learned to be content with just leading an ordinary life.
He had accepted his fate and given in. He thought that as long as he stuck his head into the ground like an ostrich and avoided looking at those people in the clouds or fantasizing about becoming one of them, the monster called "life" would give him an easy time.
Unexpectedly, however, Kazuma's dream of living a simple life was soon smashed into pieces by the younger generation.
As he listened to the older generation talking about what they imagined the life of the younger generation was like, Kazuma reflected on his life and felt that he had probably been expelled from the ranks of young people.
Unhappy, extremely unhappy.
Kazuma didn't think he was worse than the others. He had just been born late.
He had imagined more than once that if he had been born in the 1970s, he would definitely have seized the opportunity borne of China's burgeoning economy to soar high and find himself a spot among the upper class of society.
Then, he could have become a member of the older generation and say to the younger ones in a hearty tone, "I admire the abundance of opportunities that you have."
Now that Kazuma had really transmigrated and even obtained a cheat, he had to become rich and powerful.
Now, Kazuma suddenly felt that it was foolish of him to not sell the dojo just to cater to Chiyoko's feelings.
'Chiyoko is sensible and cute. I can't believe that I got bewitched and swayed by her. It seems that my determination was not strong enough either.'
However, it was not too late to realize this now.
Kazuma gripped his bamboo sword tightly, preparing to convey his determination to his sister through it.
"We can sell the dojo and open a bigger one with a better location in the future after we've earned enough money. It's enough to keep our memories in our hearts.
"Chiyoko! Stubbornness and sentimentality alone cannot protect anything!" Kazuma shouted at her. "I'll show you my determination! I'll crush your childishness!"
After he said that, the wind blew in from the side door at just the right time.
Kazuma allowed the fringe on his forehead to dance wildly in the wind. He had no intention to tidy it up.
He stared at Chiyoko through his flying hair.
He understood Chiyoko's feelings for the dojo and the extraordinary significance it held for her.
However, selling it and ascending up the social ladder was also very important to Kazuma.
After all, he was a transmigrator with a cheat. He did not want a repeat of his previous meaningless life.
Previously, Kazuma had not realized that, which left him deeply bothered by other concerns. Now that he had thought it through, his mind was clear.
Compared to Chiyoko's deep feelings for the dojo, his half-joking attitude had been far from enough to convince her.
Now was the time for Chiyoko to witness his strong determination.
Kazuma guessed that the martial arts in this era was probably different from his original world. There was a high chance that people of this time could convey their feelings through sword fights.
He could not be bothered to check on his own state, which required him to mediate. It was easier to look at other people's states.
Even if his determination did not give him a buff, Kazuma was confident that he could defeat Chiyoko when she was so confused.
He stepped forward.
When he dashed forward, his feet produced a crisp sound upon impact with the floor. He could also feel a gush of wind swirling around him.
As a martial artist, he had a lower body that should be as steady as a mountain.
"Chiyoko!"
Kazuma shouted and attacked.
***
Chiyoko was shocked.
When she was young, her father once told her that people's swords carried their willpower.
She always thought that her father was talking nonsense after drinking sake.
It had been so many years, but Chiyoko had never felt anyone's willpower through their swords during kendo matches.
Swords were a dangerous weapon, and kendo used to be a skill for killing. Now, it had become a type of competitive sport.
How could one's sword contain one's willpower?
What a joke!
However, Chiyoko could feel it now.
Her brother Kiryuu Kazuma was surrounded by an indescribable frosty aura. Kazuma was simply stepping toward her, but Chiyoko already felt intimidated even before he made any other moves.
'This will be a strong hit!'
In the next moment, Kazuma had reached her. He was so fast that Chiyoko could not see his moves clearly. She used her muscle memory to block his strike.
Their bamboo swords clashed with a crisp sound.
Although Chiyoko felt suppressed, her response did not slow down.
She took half a step forward, wanting to counter any follow-up attacks by closing the distance. The length of the bamboo sword was similar to that of a machete. The wielder needed space to swing it, so it would be hard to attack if one got too close to their opponent.
However, Kazuma's sword had already hit Chiyoko's hands!
'Wait, when did he make his second strike?'
The excruciating pain in her hand almost made Chiyoko let go. It was taboo to drop the sword.
Kazuma pulled away from her. They were at a deadlock again.
A cold aura still lingered around him.
Chiyoko even had the illusion that the wind pouring in through the open door was swirling around her brother.
She was reminded of a television program that she had watched before. There, a Chinese taiji master was practicing in a temple-like place (it was actually a Taoist temple). The wind swirled the withered leaves around the master, as if echoing the master's fluid movements.
She remembered that at the end of the show when the master concluded his practice with a finishing move, the leaves fell down and formed a taiji pattern on the ground.
Chiyoko had always thought that it was fake, just like how entertainment shows liked to film kendo masters cutting leaves.
But now, she was not so sure.
At this moment, Kazuma spoke. "What's wrong, Chiyoko? You were so fired up just a moment ago, but your reaction is much slower now."
Chiyoko looked at the bamboo sword in her hand and swallowed her complaints.
Kazuma attacked again, as swift as the wind.
The bamboo swords collided with each other, producing a crisp sound.
It was just a simple attack on the opponent's upper body.
Chiyoko's left hand felt weak. She almost let go of her sword.
She could not help but recall the last Kendo National Competition that she had joined, where she met a Jigen Style expert.
It was said that the girl's father was an Osaka police offer and that she had been learning the Jigen Style from her father since she was young. In fact, the Jigen Style was the official martial arts style for the police.
After the Meiji Restoration, the Japanese police system was mainly controlled by warriors from the Satsuma Domain, where the Jigen Style had originated from.
The strength of Kiryuu Kazuma's strike just now was comparable to that of a Jigen Style expert!
However, Chiyoko could tell from the way Kazuma had used his strength that it was not a Jigen Style move.
There was a slight difference between normal down slashes or those from the Jigen Style. Only experienced kendo fighters could see it.
Chiyoko pulled away and held the bamboo sword firmly again. Although the strike just now did not make Chiyoko let go of her sword, it did shift her hands on the handle.
In kendo matches, this kind of hand displacement could affect the accuracy of the wielder's moves, so it needed to be adjusted.
"Why aren't you finishing me off?" Chiyoko asked.
"That's because I don't want to defeat you," Kazuma replied. "I only want you to understand me!"
"What do you mean? You are not making any sense!"
Chiyoko roared and struck forward. She knew that she would have no chance of winning if she continued to be so passively defensive.
However, her blade was deflected effortlessly. Chiyoko wasn't too surprised.
'That's right. I should be the stronger one.'
Kazuma's counterattack came as expected.
Chiyoko retracted her sword to block the attack. But she did not have enough time to readjust her posture.
In the blink of an eye, Chiyoko's bamboo sword was sent high into the air and landed on the floor not far away, making a crisp sound.
At the same time, the pitter-patter of the rain outside the dojo suddenly turned into a downpour within seconds.
Chiyoko stood still, maintaining a posture as if she was still holding her sword. She looked at her brother Kiryuu Kazuma.
Kazuma gently poked her throat with the tip of his bamboo sword.
"You've lost," he said. "I am selling the dojo. If you have any objections, defeat me before Sumitomo Construction looks for us again. I am open to your challenge for the entire day tomorrow."
Chiyoko could not help but ask, "Why? There should be many precious memories here for you too!"
"Didn't I say it before? It's enough to keep the memories in my heart. I won't allow myself to be restricted by the past. Chiyoko, we should embrace the present and look forward to the future."
Chiyoko stared at Kazuma for a long time and finally sighed. "You've won. I agree to sell the dojo."