Chapter 138: A Great Era Has Come! The Monsters Of Aratomi Village
Isn’t it? Selling yourself just for a biscuit?
Shangshan Che was somewhat puzzled and stunned, but upon seeing the words “meat floss flavor” on the packaging of the compressed biscuit he had just handed over, he immediately understood.
Meat floss, meat floss, although it has nothing to do with real meat, at least it has a meaty taste!
Looking again at this little ninja named Shiraishi.
This small frame that seems like it would fall over in the wind, and this height that’s frustratingly short.
Not to mention starving three meals every three days, at least it’s starving six meals every three days.
The common people of this era aren’t exactly starving to death, but the food they eat absolutely can’t be called delicious—or bluntly put, as long as it fills the stomach and keeps them alive, that’s it.
Rice grass, wild vegetables, beans, rice bran…
And that’s for farmers who own their own houses and farmland.
As for this Shiraishi little ninja, he has nothing at all.
Shangshan Che figured he either hunts wild game by luck, or pulls some edible stuff from the roadside to stuff into his belly, or worst case, begs in the city, and might run into kindhearted people for a full meal.
Or, stealing leftovers from someone else’s house isn’t impossible?
But no matter what, none of these things have anything to do with “meat.”
Never mind the bullshit ban on eating meat issued by the Emperor in the past, just the outrageous price of meat alone is something a guy like Shiraishi, who wears straw sandals rotten and wouldn’t bear to replace them, couldn’t afford.
No wonder his eyes lit up like that from just a dry compressed biscuit.
Shangshan Che touched his chin—this bit of compressed biscuit was enough to make him say that; if he really went back and brought two pounds of meat, would Shiraishi kneel on the spot, kowtow, and recognize him as his foster father?
But whatever, he didn’t lack sons that badly… having him call him big brother was about right for their relationship.
Besides, he had just arrived and needed a capable local guide, and Shiraishi was indeed pretty good.
As for one more mouth to feed, Shangshan Che never worried about such a small thing.
Even if the compressed biscuits ran out and it wasn’t convenient to go back to the mortal realm to buy stuff, he could easily let himself and this little ninja eat big fish and meat.
Otherwise, wouldn’t all this strength be wasted?
“I never lack food.”
Shangshan Che snapped his fingers, dropping another dozen compressed biscuits in front of Shiraishi, and continued, “The key is whether you have the qualifications.”
Shiraishi first wolfed down a few more bites of compressed biscuit, then seemed to choke, gulped down several mouthfuls of water, and finally let out a satisfied long sigh.
It had been too long since he felt this ease of eating without having to calculate every bite.
And though the thing in his hand looked strange, its taste was really like the chicken he ate long, long ago—definitely delicious!
Shiraishi patted his chest, making a dull thumping sound: “I’m an expert among the Iga crowd!”
Iga crowd?
Shangshan Che blinked, thinking to himself that he knew this one.
—Ninjas of the world come from the two He!
This so-called “two He” referred to Kōga District and Iga Province.
The ninja schools from these two places were still passed down even in the current mortal realm, and seemed to have quite a few experts, even more than one Ghost God level figure.
So he spoke up: “A ninja from Iga, right? That’s famous—even a recluse like me knows about it.”
“Ninja? What ninja?”
Shiraishi showed a confused expression.
He rarely showed such an expression, because as an expert in the Iga crowd, there were very few things he didn’t know across the entire Tokaido, including even farther regions.
But he really hadn’t heard of the word “ninja.”
Shangshan Che was baffled too: “Didn’t you say you’re from the Iga crowd? That makes you an Iga ninja!”
“Iga crowd is Iga crowd, what’s this ‘ninja’ thing!”
Shangshan Che didn’t know—in fact, the term “ninja” was only invented and popularized in the Edo Period.
Right now, telling Shiraishi this was as meaningless as lecturing people of this era about “infantry-tank coordination” or “the importance of air superiority.”
Shiraishi scratched his messy hair that could pass for a bird’s nest, grinning: “Never mind that! Anyway, as an Iga crowd expert, I know a lot of intelligence and info about the world under heaven—aren’t I the perfect match for an onmyoji who’s been in seclusion so long?”
Shangshan Che nodded—that was true.
“Then I’ll recognize you as my big brother!”
Shiraishi finished the biscuit in his hand in two or three bites, then swiftly grabbed another one, but as expected, he was stumped by the plastic packaging.
But he didn’t ask Shangshan Che for help, seeming intent on wrestling with this compressed biscuit’s packaging himself.
Shangshan Che watched for a good while, and when he really couldn’t stand it anymore, he picked up a biscuit himself, slowly tore it open in front of him, and then slowly put the biscuit into his mouth.
Hmm, really not tasty.
Shiraishi, pretending to look down but actually peeking at Shangshan Che’s actions with the corner of his eye, soon imitated him and tore open the packaging.
He said while eating: “Big brother, mmph… from now on I’ll eat with you!”
Hearing this, Shangshan Che chuckled, put the remaining compressed biscuits back into his storage bag, leaving only one more for Shiraishi, thinking that last sentence was the key point.
Once Shiraishi finished the compressed biscuit in two or three bites again, not even sparing the crumbs that fell to the ground, he suddenly noticed that the water container Shangshan Che gave him seemed unusual too.
Shiraishi raised the mineral water bottle in his hand, whose packaging had been torn off, and examined closely this transparent, very lightweight and nice-looking water bottle with no odd smell at all.
Southern barbarian goods, definitely top-quality southern barbarian goods!
He held his breath, repeatedly scanning the mineral water bottle with his eyes.
“This bottle… it’d sell for at least a few kan, maybe even a dozen kan.”
In the Sengoku Period, the so-called “one kan” basically meant “one city kan,” that is, eight hundred forty mon in cash.
Eight hundred forty mon’s purchasing power in this era wasn’t low at all.
If just used to buy bean products and edible rice, eight hundred forty mon could absolutely meet a person’s basic survival needs for nearly a whole year.
And now, this weightless bottle in his hand could sell for at least several kan, letting him live carefree for months, even longer!
If the market was good, maybe he could even trade his gear for a whole new set!
Shangshan Che absolutely never imagined that Shiraishi, who had just recognized him as big brother, would get the idea to go solo over a mere mineral water bottle.
Shiraishi carefully pinched the mineral water bottle, and when he saw it dent under his fingers’ pressure, he quickly let go, then stared in shock as the bottle sprang back.
Shiraishi glanced at Shangshan Che, who had walked to the warehouse doorway and seemed not to notice him, and quickly stuffed the mineral water bottle into his pocket.
—How about escaping now?
As Shiraishi was thinking this, he suddenly felt a faint gaze on his back.
He casually turned around, and saw Two-Foot Adult standing not far behind him, smiling.
Shiraishi shuddered instantly!
Right! How had he forgotten this yokai!
He immediately pulled the mineral water bottle, already hidden in his clothes, back out, thinking he had nearly gotten himself killed, but good thing he was an Iga crowd expert who noticed this detail.
With that thought, Shiraishi ran thump-thump to Shangshan Che’s side and held out the mineral water bottle still containing un-drunk water.
“Big brother, your water bottle.”
Shangshan Che, just about to jump on the roof to survey the surroundings, paused slightly and waved his hand: “Finish drinking it yourself and don’t litter it. No need to give it back.”
With that, he pushed off with his feet and leaped onto the over two-meter-high rooftop, stunning Shiraishi standing below.
How… how did he get up to such a high place in one go?
No! The key point now isn’t that!
Shiraishi twisted his cheek hard with his muddy little hand, grimacing in pain as he muttered: “Not a dream… this southern barbarian water bottle is really just given to me?”
He stood dazed in place for a good while before cursing inwardly: “Damn, this onmyoji is a total rich bastard, probably secretly did some heaven-defying evil stuff without knowing!”
Otherwise, how could he casually give such a valuable bottle to someone he’d only met once?
Clearly used to being rich!
Shiraishi glanced at Two-Foot Adult, who had followed closely to his side, and thought darkly: “Heh heh, I’ll mooch food and drink off this rich bastard onmyoji for a bit.
—Once I’ve saved up enough valuable stuff, I’ll kick him away and fly solo!”
The key is not to get caught by this all-white yokai—find a crowded marketplace and slip away unnoticed.
Poor Shiraishi didn’t know that Two-Foot Adult had already planted curse positioning on him; even if he ran to Owari, Kyoto, or even farther places now, it would be useless.
On the warehouse rooftop, Shangshan Che withdrew his gaze from the distant village full of small flat-roofed houses.
Shiraishi hadn’t lied him—about two or three hundred meters away, there really was a village, and he could see quite a few villagers walking back and forth on the streets.
It’s just—
Shangshan Che twitched his nose.
There was a demonic energy so thick it had drifted all the way here.
Call it grudge or demonic energy.
Anyway, even from several hundred meters away, Shangshan Che could clearly sense a demon filled with grudge lurking in that Aratomi Village.
Shangshan Che jumped straight down from the rooftop right in front of Shiraishi, making the child stare at him blankly.
He asked: “In that Aratomi Village, have there been strange things happening lately?”
“Ah, yes… part of the reason I dragged you here, big brother, was that.”
As soon as Shiraishi answered, he looked at him with a ghost-seeing expression: “Big brother, how did you know about this!?”
“That’s right.”
Shangshan Che said calmly: “Because there’s a yokai in that village.”
“Yokai!?”
Shiraishi glanced at Two-Foot Adult again and whispered: “Big brother, like her…”
“No, judging by the concentration of grudge, that yokai isn’t anywhere near as dignified and good-looking as my Two-Foot Adult.”
Shangshan Che said: “If that yokai appeared in front of you, it could probably scare you to death directly.”
Shiraishi shivered hard and quickly said: “Then big brother, let’s hurry and go—to Sunpu Castle; we should be safe there!”
“Go? Why go?”
Shangshan Che’s mind turned, and an idea came instantly: “Precisely because a yokai is lurking in Aratomi Village, that’s why I’m going there.”
—Killing the yokai in front of the villagers, then letting them spread the name of this “emerged onmyoji” like tap water, would be far more credible and real than him saying it himself.
This place wasn’t far from Sunpu Castle, the center of Suruga.
Once the absolutely unique title of “onmyoji” in this era spread, would Shangshan Che worry about no one inviting him?
“Better to act early than late—let’s go now.”
As Shangshan Che took a step, he felt someone grab his clothes.
Looking back, it was Shiraishi with seriousness written all over his small face.
“Big brother, I value my life. If you really want to go die, I won’t accompany you—we’ll say goodbye here.”
He gripped the mineral water bottle cap tightly and said word by word: “For the sake you were good to me, I’ll advise you one last time.”
Shangshan Che studied Shiraishi closely and saw he didn’t seem to be lying.
So Shangshan Che smiled: “Shiraishi, what makes you think I’m going to die?”
Seeing him still so nonchalant, Shiraishi let go and cursed loudly.
“Need I say it? That yokai kills without mercy! Over ten people have died in Aratomi Village these past days, you big idiot—go get yourself killed by the yokai! In such a rush to reincarnate that you have to die now!”
This little bro… seems pretty good to recruit.
Shangshan Che touched the Kaga Kiyomitsu he had just taken from his storage bag—if Shiraishi said nothing, he might have been planning to wait for the yokai to kill him, then loot his bag and steal the inheritance.
But now he was desperately advising him not to go, showing Shiraishi was pretty responsible toward this cheap big brother he’d just met.
This brat, not bad.
Shangshan Che shifted his gaze, finding a large rock slanted beside a small tree not far away, and smiled at Shiraishi: “Then I’ll prove my strength to you now.”
Prove? How?
As Shiraishi wondered, he suddenly noticed Shangshan Che’s Kaga Kiyomitsu at his waist.
That vermilion scabbard like blood reflected the cool sunlight into his pupils.
This scabbard, this hilt… Shiraishi didn’t even need to think or look at the blade to know this sword’s price couldn’t be less than a hundred kan.
This level of craftsmanship was just short of engraving “famous sword” on it!
—Big brother! You still say you’re not a bad guy samurai!
Shiraishi ground his teeth hard, wanting to stab this bad guy samurai he’d just recognized as big brother to death—because samurai meant bad guy, and all samurai deserved to die!
But if big brother was a samurai, then why could he tell there was a yokai in Aratomi Village?
Thinking this way, big brother must be an onmyoji.
Strange, strange.
Shiraishi suddenly felt his brain turn to mush.
He stopped thinking and followed behind Shangshan Che to see what tricks this big brother could pull off.
Soon, Shiraishi saw Shangshan Che’s target for this slash—a large log post freshly rained on, with three or four knots, about as thick as three of his waists.
“This wood’s just been rained on, hard to cut… big brother, I advise you to stop here.” Shiraishi huffed, “Don’t ruin your precious daito.”
That said, Shiraishi honestly moved the heavy log post a bit to make it easier for Shangshan Che to chop.
“Shiraishi, what are you doing?”
Shangshan Che looked at Shiraishi bustling about with the log and knocked on the nearly half-person-high rock beside him: “What I’m cutting is this thing.”
Cutting the small tree beside it…
Shiraishi had just turned his head when he involuntarily let out a gasp, showing a puzzled and doubting look.
My newly recognized big brother… doesn’t have hysteria, does he…
Cutting a rock with a sword—would any normal person think of that? It’s totally wasting a treasure sword.
Shiraishi stared at the rock almost as tall as himself, his eyes suddenly spinning as he exclaimed excitedly: “Big brother! Wanna make a bet!”
His tone urgent, as if afraid Shangshan Che would back out of cutting the rock: “If you don’t split this rock, can you give me your daito!”
“Sure, I can.”
Shangshan Che knocked on the dissatisfied Kaga Kiyomitsu, treated as betting stakes by its owner, and asked back: “But what if I do split it?”
“Ha! Hahaha!” Hearing the question, Shiraishi couldn’t hold back his laughter.
He patted his chest to suppress the laughter, thought for a while, then waved casually: “If you win, big brother, I’ll bet my head to you.”
Shiraishi pointed to his neck: “Here, this one.”
Shangshan Che nodded noncommittally: “Deal then?”
Shiraishi nodded vigorously: “No taking it back!”
Shangshan Che looked at the rock beside him—this rock not even a tenth the size of Kisaragi Station’s concrete pillar.
And there’s such a good deal?
He couldn’t help curving his lips, about to draw his sword, but then pressed down on Kaga Kiyomitsu: “Shiraishi, check this rock first for any issues—don’t say I cheated when I cut it open and refuse to pay up, haha.”
“Unnecessary…”
Shiraishi muttered, drew the most worn kunai from his waist, and chiseled hard at the rock’s crevices; seeing it immovable, he nodded to Shangshan Che.
“No problem! Cut it quick, big brother—don’t waste time!”
He eagerly stepped aside, already fantasizing about the wonderful life after pawning this famous sword.
By then, he could eat polished rice every day, meat every meal—heh heh, heh heh… running into such a dumb big brother was his fortune.
Look at you, never seen the world.
Shangshan Che shook his head, slowly drew Kaga Kiyomitsu, then casually swiped at the rock’s center.
Finally, the blade returned to its scabbard.
He lifted his chin at Shiraishi: “Done—take a look, did I cut this rock in half?”
This interrupted Shiraishi’s fantasizing about his bright future.
Shiraishi snapped back and saw the large rock, neatly split in two, slowly toppling to both sides.
Just like his worldview up to now, collapsing with a crash.
Shiraishi dazedly walked to the rock, tapped it with his finger, poked it with his kunai, and upon confirming it was indeed cut in half with one slash, showed an incredulous expression.
But the deed was done.
No matter what method big brother used, a cut was a cut.
Now, it was time for him to fulfill the bet.
Shiraishi clenched his small fists, bowed his head deeply, and stuck out his skinny neck: “Come on, big brother! Draw and cut off my head!”
Shangshan Che: “?”
“What would I do with your head?”
Shangshan Che patted Shiraishi’s little head, and after he looked up, said, “What I want is an Iga crowd expert who knows lots of intelligence, not a stinky head—got it?”
“Since you made this bet, follow me from now on.”
Shangshan Che thumbed out a section of Kaga Kiyomitsu’s blade and said calmly: “If you run, I can cut off your head later.”
N-not dead?
Shiraishi’s eyes widened, and a surge of post-survival joy flooded his dusty little face.
Bets or promises were serious in this era; people usually honored them, especially samurai who valued “promises” more than life.
Shiraishi had thought Shangshan Che would draw and chop him without a word!
Big brother! Different from others, from other samurai!
“Good egg! Big brother you’re a good egg!”
Yelling words Shangshan Che couldn’t understand, Shiraishi hugged Shangshan Che’s thigh tightly, refusing to let go.
This backfired—he’d become big brother’s lifelong follower instead.
Just thinking of the over two-meter-tall Two-Foot Adult and Shangshan Che’s effortless slash that split the rock in half, Shiraishi felt the future suddenly brighten.
He never imagined that he, unlucky until now, could turn disaster into fortune by hugging such a thick thigh—he’d really struck gold!
His life was about to get better!
Good times, coming!
Shiraishi couldn’t help grinning foolishly, munching compressed biscuits as he followed behind Shangshan Che toward Aratomi Village.
—A mere yokai what? My big brother can casually split rocks in half—surely he can kill you too?!
…
Before long, Shangshan Che and his group of two arrived before Aratomi Village.
—To avoid drawing attention and suspicion, Shangshan Che had put away Two-Foot Adult ahead of time.
And they had just reached Aratomi Village’s boundary, not even entered, when villagers spotted them.
A small commotion immediately erupted, seeming to send for someone in charge.
“Normal, big brother.” Shiraishi chewed on a tail grass stem, picking biscuit crumbs from his teeth. “Anyone seeing you would think you’re a big shot from a noble court family.”
“Probably the village chief will come running with a bunch of people any second, then kowtow to you.”
At this, Shiraishi rolled his eyes: “No kowtow, then chop head… hmph! That’s the unwritten rule those bad breed samurai set.”
Shangshan Che thought samurai in this chaotic world were indeed barbaric; in the current mortal realm, even Ghost God level figures wouldn’t stoop to such posturing.
So he followed Shiraishi’s advice, standing boldly on the village main road, looking around as if waiting for something.
Sure enough, not even three minutes later, a bald old man led a group rushing over in panic, then knelt messily before him.
The prostrated old man spoke in a strange accent: “Adult, this lowly one is Aratomi Village’s Village Chief Tanaka Rō. What help does adult need from this small person in our humble village?”
Shangshan Che gave a lukewarm hum and asked: “Has your village been plagued by a monster lately?”
At these words, Village Chief Tanaka Rō and the young ones behind him all paled suddenly.
