The long dining table was laden with an array of sumptuous dishes, and Ren couldn't help but feel his appetite stir. Just moments ago, he had discreetly used his spatial identification ability to ensure the food was toxin-free.
The dining hall of the Kure Clan was immense, with each long table bustling with people. Familiar faces exchanged conversations that would rarely surface in ordinary households over dinner.
Topics such as, "The new XX-brand dagger I bought is incredible," or "That bodyguard was tough—took me a lot of effort to take him down," or even "Hey, have you tried the new XX-series firearm? Great accuracy and firing rate!" floated through the air in casual tones.
Only Ren's table was an island of silence amidst the chatter. Seated here were the core members of the Kure Clan.
Across from Ren sat Karura, her chin resting in her hands, gazing at him with sparkling, adoring eyes.
At the head of the table sat the clan patriarch, Kure Erioh, his face shadowed with displeasure, his sharp gaze fixed on Ren.
After a long pause, Kure Erioh forced a stiff smile and broke the silence. "Honored guest, you've come a long way. Please, enjoy our local delicacies."
At his words, all eyes turned to Ren, waiting for him to make the first move. Only once he picked up his chopsticks would the others begin eating.
Without hesitation, Ren took a piece of tempura and savored it. "The culinary skills of your chefs are truly exceptional," he complimented sincerely.
Lifting a cup of sake, he raised it in toast toward Kure Erioh. "My heartfelt thanks for your gracious hospitality, Patriarch."
Kure Erioh's expression softened slightly at Ren's respectful gesture. He returned the toast. "A humble home-cooked meal. I'm glad it suits your taste, young friend."
With this exchange, the tension at the table eased marginally, and the others began to eat. However, the atmosphere remained heavy. No one dared to speak unless prompted by Kure Erioh or Ren.
Eventually, Kure Erioh broke the silence again, unable to suppress his curiosity. "Young friend, you mentioned coming here to exchange martial techniques. Surely, defeating a few of our skilled fighters is not your only goal?"
His question veiled his true intentions. Originally, Kure Erioh had planned to keep Ren here for a few days, long enough to obtain Ren's exceptional genetic material to further optimize the Kure Clan's bloodline.
But his plans had been derailed when his beloved great-granddaughter, Karura, had approached him, shy and blushing, declaring that she was in love. The very idea had left him fuming.
Looking at Ren's ruggedly handsome face, Kure Erioh found himself growing more annoyed by the second. Karura is still a high schooler, you beast! How dare you set your sights on her!
No. He had to get Ren out of here as soon as possible, before his precious great-granddaughter was further ensnared.
Surely, this was just a fleeting infatuation on Karura's part. Given time, she would forget about him. Yes, that had to be it.
Ren set his chopsticks down and met Kure Erioh's gaze directly. "Since you've asked, Patriarch, I'll be forthright. I wish to learn the Kure Clan's secret technique—Removal."
His words caused an immediate ripple of silence, not just at their table but across the entire hall. Conversations at the other tables ground to a halt as everyone turned their attention to him.
Kure Erioh's eyes narrowed. "Oh? You wish to learn our Removal technique? Are you aware that this is a skill the Kure Clan has guarded for millennia? If you claim to have crossed paths with the Kure Clan before, you should know such techniques are never shared with outsiders."
Ren remained calm. "As this is a martial exchange, I naturally wouldn't expect to learn it for free. I'm prepared to offer the Kure Clan a powerful technique in return. Additionally, I give my word that Removal will never be passed to others."
Kure Erioh's tone grew less stern, though his wariness remained. "And what technique could possibly rival the value of our Removal? Surely you jest, young friend."
Raising his hand, Ren allowed a grayish-black sheen to envelop his fist. "With your keen eyes, Patriarch, you should recognize the strength of this technique. Once mastered, it can render ordinary firearms—and even explosives—utterly ineffective."
He was referring to the principle of Armament Haki, a skill he had refined and internalized despite exhausting the resources that had initially granted him access.
Teaching it to others was well within his capability, though he knew the talent required to master it was immense.
Even within the Kure Clan, perhaps only a handful would succeed in wielding it effectively.
"I see..." Kure Erioh murmured, his gaze thoughtful. "Indeed, only such a technique could be compared to Removal. If this exchange is to proceed, the Kure Clan is willing to teach you Removal. However, there's one more condition: you must also leave behind your seed."
The bluntness of the request was jarring. Ren had expected as much. Though not entirely disinterested in such matters, his master's strict moral teachings had instilled a sense of responsibility in him. He wasn't inclined to act recklessly, which made the Kure Clan's demand a tricky proposition.
Before he could respond, Karura suddenly exclaimed with excitement, "Grandpa, you're the best! Ren, let's make a baby!"
Kure Erioh's expression darkened instantly. His withered skin cracked like ancient tree bark, his fury barely contained. After a long pause, he exhaled heavily and waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it. The second condition is off the table. The Hardened Armament technique for Removal—that will suffice."
Ren was stunned at the abrupt turn of events. This old man really is a doting great-grandfather, he thought, amused. Karura's brazen enthusiasm now struck him as oddly endearing.
In this peculiar atmosphere, the meal concluded. However, aside from Ren, it seemed most of the Kure Clan members had lost their appetite, preoccupied with their own thoughts.
"Mr. Hoshino, I'll escort you to your room," said Kure Fusui, who had been assigned as his guide. As for Karura, her great-grandfather had swiftly taken her away.
Kure Erioh was now as wary of Ren as a shepherd guarding his flock from a wolf.
Initially, he had been relieved that Ren had declined Karura's bold proposal. Yet, during dinner, when Ren explicitly requested Karura's involvement in the exchange, his alarm bells began to ring louder than ever.
Outside Ren's guestroom, Kure Fusui knelt neatly in the traditional style, resembling the courteous hostess of an old-fashioned inn. "Here are fresh futons," she said, her tone even. "Spare clothing is in the cabinet. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."
"This is more than enough. Thank you for your hospitality," Ren replied.
He was far from picky when it came to accommodations; after his master had passed away, sleeping in cardboard boxes on the streets had become a familiar routine.
Just as he was about to close the door, Kure Fusui added, "Oh, one more thing. While you've expressed interest in experiencing our assassination techniques, the Patriarch has ordered that no one is to disturb you tonight. Please rest well."
With that, she slid the shoji door shut and moved gracefully toward her own quarters for the night.
Ren wasn't surprised by Kure Erioh's precautions. The old man was clearly intent on preserving everyone's energy for the next day, when they would exchange their secret techniques. Tonight was not a time for unnecessary games.
After tidying up his belongings, Ren lay down to rest. This was, in fact, his first chance to truly relax since entering this world.
The night passed without incident. As morning broke, the chirping of birds mingled with the sound of the bamboo water hammer gently knocking in the courtyard, drawing Ren out of his light slumber.
Though his body had been at rest, his heightened senses had remained on alert throughout the night.
Any disturbance—a rustling of leaves or a subtle creak of the floor—would have had him drawing Shikai: Shūkonrasetsu in an instant.
After a quick wash, Ren seated himself on the veranda overlooking the serene courtyard. He scrolled through the shared communication network on his device, scanning for updates.
The public chat had been lively when they first entered this world, with explorers eagerly exchanging tips and observations. But as time went on, the chatter had dwindled.
Everyone had their own missions to focus on.
Unsurprisingly, many participants were likely preparing for the brutal Kengan Deathmatch Elimination Tournament.
Securing a spot in the tournament demanded relentless effort, leaving little time to idly chat in the public channels.
This morning, however, a shocking announcement reignited the feed.
Tokita Ohma is dead.
__________
[T/N] - Had a bad week. First, I was down with a fever for five days. And then today, suddenly my second book was blocked due to 'copyright concern'. What a load of BS. Then, why didn't this book along with hundreds others didn't get banned?
Anyways, 60 PS = 1 Extra chapter. This arc will be over in about two weeks I reckon.