Chapter Twenty-Five: The Swordsmanship Hall

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The last day before the next world.

Chen Qi woke early and left his house right away, determined to make the most of this final day. Strangely enough, the habit of sleeping in that he’d always had was now crushed beneath the pressure of carrying out missions in the new worlds.

It was like a condemned man’s last meal...

He made his way to the most bustling shopping mall at the heart of Z City, intending to indulge in some serious spending. Ignoring the side-eye from the shop assistant, Chen Qi entered a luxury boutique and began to browse slowly.

It was curious—once free from the pressures of buying a house and getting married, those things that once seemed like unreachable luxuries no longer felt so distant. Yet, to Chen Qi, being inside a luxury store didn’t excite him as much as he’d imagined. After picking out a few items without much enthusiasm, he caught the now-warm gaze of the shop assistant and gave her a wry smile before walking out with three bulging shopping bags.

He wasn’t accustomed to life on the edge, but had somehow contracted a peculiar malaise that made ordinary stability feel uneasy.

This, Chen Qi thought, was the perfect portrait of himself.

He wandered through the mall but never stopped—almost as if the noise and commotion belonged to someone else, and he had nothing at all.

Suddenly, Chen Qi noticed a sign on the top floor: “Z City Kendo Dojo.” Inside, students dressed in white kendo uniforms trimmed with red were practicing. At a glance, it looked rather interesting.

To rent such a large space on the top floor of a downtown mall, the dojo’s owner must have some substance, Chen Qi thought. So, with a spirit of “either I beat all of you, or you beat me,” he went inside.

Ignoring the enthusiastic sales pitch from a young woman at the door, he approached a cluster of students. Meeting their slightly skeptical gazes, he announced, enunciating each word:

“I’m here to issue a challenge!”

Seeing the students look at him as if he were mad, Chen Qi continued, improvising:

“I am a master of melee combat. I hear this... whatever kendo dojo is quite famous, so I’ve come to learn. Unless—maybe you’d all like to try at once?”

At last, one hot-tempered student could stand it no longer. He tossed Chen Qi a bamboo practice sword and then stepped onto the platform, beckoning him to follow.

Naturally, Chen Qi had no intention of backing down. He caught the bamboo sword mid-air with a sidestep, vaulted onto the platform with a few nimble rolls, spun the sword into a flourish, and then taunted:

“Shall I fight you with one hand tied behind my back?”

His opponent, a young man about Chen Qi’s age, could hardly endure such provocation.

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With a sullen declaration that the match was starting, the young man skipped all formalities and charged directly at Chen Qi.

Chen Qi thought to himself, “Let’s see how skilled kendo dojos are in this era.”

With the aim of practicing his Basic Blade Technique and Basic Footwork, he restrained most of his strength, keeping to an adult’s level, and struck back at his opponent.

Thanks to the wondrous attribute training from the “Seedling Space” enhancement pod, Chen Qi found he could precisely control the force of his movements.

Disappointment soon followed. After intentionally leaving an opening, Chen Qi waited for his opponent’s balance to shift, then slid half a step aside and slipped the bamboo sword inside his rival’s collar.

Feeling the rough bamboo against his back, his opponent’s face flushed red with anger, and he lashed out at Chen Qi in a fury, swinging the sword over and over.

Chen Qi realized that since his opponent was too weak to push his Basic Blade Technique any further, he might as well focus on honing his Basic Footwork.

So, on the stage, a young man in a white kendo uniform with a bamboo sword sticking out the back of his shirt chased after an unarmed student, who dodged like a matador, taunting and bantering as he went—the scene quickly turned comical.

Having gotten a feel for his opponent’s attack rhythm, and knowing he could barely be touched, Chen Qi signaled to the onlookers with a heart sign from his right hand, put his left hand behind his back, and teased:

“Why not send two more up at once?”

A student who looked to be fifteen or sixteen spat out, “No way, I can’t put up with this,” and climbed onto the stage.

Seeing the older students made no move to stop him, another lean, sly-faced young man slipped up as well.

Now it was three against one.

The trio’s attacks forced Chen Qi to dodge with much more pressure, as some blows came at blind spots he couldn’t evade. He rolled behind the student with the bamboo sword in his shirt, pulled the sword free, and prepared to both block and dodge—after all, if he got hit after all his boasting, it would be too embarrassing.

The sound of bamboo swords clashing echoed on the stage, while the audience of students cheered their classmates on.

Seeing that his opponents’ attacks were growing sluggish from fatigue, and the crowd was getting riled up, Chen Qi quipped:

“Beasts always walk alone, while cattle and sheep move in herds. See how you weaklings cling together?”

The students below, already stifling their anger, exploded at this. Several older students, abandoning all restraint, jumped onto the stage as well.

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At this point, Chen Qi felt even more relaxed. The sheer number of attackers only made their awkward swordplay all the more restricted. Leaning against one side of the platform, Chen Qi barely moved his feet—parrying some strikes, dodging others—handling it all with ease.

He silently praised the quality of his compatriots: what a group of free sparring partners. If only the Space could learn a thing or two.

“Enough of this nonsense!”

A sharp, commanding voice cut through Chen Qi’s smugness. A woman stepped forward from the crowd, her hair pinned up high, a cold expression on her face.

She, too, wore the kendo uniform, but unlike the others, as soon as she appeared, the students on the floor parted to make way, and those on stage halted their attacks, calling out in unison,

“Good afternoon, Sensei!”

Chen Qi looked her way. Her skin, exposed at the neck and arms, was paler than the white of her uniform; her dark hair and icy eyes set off a slender waist that seemed barely able to support the weight of her chest—a true ice-cold rose, voluptuous and striking.

Seeing the marketplace chaos settle at her arrival, the woman approached Chen Qi, her delicate neck tilting slightly as she spoke.

“I’ll be your opponent.”

Chen Qi, too interested to care about admiring her voice—clear as raindrops on jade—put on a nonchalant air.

“Beautiful lady! How about this—if you lose tonight, you’ll go on a date with me?”

Her expression didn’t change, but her grip on the sword tightened. She replied, her voice cool as ice,

“Fine. If you lose, you must apologize to every one of my students and never come here again.”

“Hahahahahaha!”

Chen Qi did his best to recall the laughter of movie villains, jeering as he declared,

“It’s settled, then! Dinner’s on you, and I want the most expensive!”

Before he finished speaking, the woman had already stepped onto the stage, looked him in the eye, and announced,

“Take up your sword—we begin at once!”