[Current Balance: 4,755,411,970,800 Mon]
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The bugyō of Nagasaki, a man accustod to the weight of absolute authority, stood at the edge of the chaos, his hand resting on the hilt of his masterfully crafted katana.
His sharp, intelligent eyes took in the scene before him: hundreds of his best samurai, the pride of the city's defenses, lay defeated on the stone bridge, their bodies were a testant to the power of the lone man standing amidst them.
His face was a mask of cold fury, but beneath it, as Alaric's own senses confird, was a deep, unsettling current of awe and fear. This was not a re brawler or a skilled ronin. This was sothing else entirely.
The bugyō finally spoke, his voice was steady and carried across the quiet, moonlit bridge, cutting through the low groans of the downed n.
"I am Kawamura Zuiken, bugyō of this city," he announced, his tone formal, yet heavy with unspoken threat. "You have caused considerable disruption, stranger. I will have your na."
Alaric, still in his fisherman's disguise, turned slowly to face the city's governor. A faint, almost bored smile touched his lips.
"My na?" he echoed, his voice was calm and laced with a dismissive amusent. "You ask for the na of the man who defeated hundreds of your n? That's boring."
He began to walk forward, his steps were slow and deliberate, moving directly towards Kawamura Zuiken. The few remaining samurai who were still conscious and flanking the bugyō tensed, their hands gripping their swords tighter, ready to defend their lord. Alaric ignored them completely, his gaze fixed on the governor.
"Rather than my na," Alaric said as he continued his unhurried approach, "you can ask why I'm here."
Kawamura's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening on his own sword. The sheer, unadulterated confidence of this man was infuriating, and deeply unnerving.
He watched Alaric walk closer, a dozen scenarios playing out in his mind, each ending with more of his n falling. He let out a slow, controlled breath, the cold night air doing little to cool the frustration simring within him.
He made a subtle gesture with his free hand, signaling his guards to stand down for the mont.
"Soredewa..." the bugyō finally conceded, his voice tight with restrained anger. "What is your purpose here, shin'nyū-sha?" (Well then... what is your purpose here, intruder?)
"Intruder?" Alaric stopped a few feet from the governor, raising an eyebrow before a small chuckle escaped him. "I suppose that's accurate enough."
He looked directly into Kawamura's eyes, his earlier amusent vanishing, replaced by a sharp, focused intensity.
"I'm here for a woman who is not from this land," Alaric stated plainly. "A gaijin."
The effect of the word was imdiate, though subtle. Kawamura's stern expression didn't change, but his eyes widened, just for a fraction of a second, a flicker of shock and recognition that he instantly tried to suppress. It was a micro-expression, one that any normal person would have missed entirely.
But Alaric saw it.
"You know sothing," Alaric said. It wasn't a question; it was a statent of fact.
This ti, the bugyō couldn't hide his reaction. The mask of controlled authority shattered.
"N-Nani!?" he gasped, his eyes wide with genuine surprise and a dawning alarm. He took an involuntary step back. How could this stranger possibly know? Before he could regain his composure, before he could even process the implication, he looked into the intruder's eyes.
And saw them turn blood red.
The world around Kawamura Zuiken dissolved. The bridge, the unconscious bodies, the worried faces of his n… all of it vanished, replaced by an endless, swirling crimson void. The last thing he consciously registered was an intricate, three-tomoe pattern spinning hypnotically before his mind went blank, his will no longer his own.
The remaining samurai watched in confusion as their lord, who had been on the verge of anger, suddenly relaxed. His expression went slack, his eyes dull and unfocused. He stood perfectly still for a mont, then, with the stiff, unnatural movents of a puppet, he began to walk calmly towards the strange fisherman.
Alaric smiled. "Oh, I forgot," he said cheerfully, turning his gaze towards the handful of conscious samurai who were watching the bizarre scene, their hands hovering uncertainly over their swords.
He looked at them, a final, almost apologetic smile on his face. He ntally cast the technique.
'Jinton...'
There was no blur of speed. There was no afterimage. One mont, Alaric was standing there. The next, he was simply… gone.
The samurai blinked, their minds struggling to comprehend the vanishing act. Before they could even shout a warning or draw a blade, it was too late.
An unseen force, moving faster than thought, struck each of them. A precise chop to the neck, a jab to a pressure point. They collapsed without a sound, their consciousness snuffed out instantly.
Alaric reappeared where he had been standing, not a single hair out of place. His hands were back in his pockets.
"Swift Release is overpowered as fuck," he muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly.
He turned his full attention to the now-docile bugyō standing before him. The bridge was finally, truly quiet, save for the gentle flow of the river below and the distant sounds of the sleeping city.
"Right then, Kawamura-dono," Alaric said, his voice was now soft and persuasive. "Let's have a proper chat. Tell about the gaijin woman. Tell … everything you know about her."
Kawamura Zuiken, Governor of Nagasaki, stood before Alaric, his eyes vacant, his face devoid of its usual stern authority. He spoke, his voice flat and monotone, a puppet reciting its lines.
"She… she ca here. Months ago," he began. "A ship from the south. She was... the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Hair like spun firelight, eyes the color of the sumr sky."
A strange, dreamlike expression touched the bugyō's face, a flicker of genuine emotion breaking through the Genjutsu's control.
"I loved her," he whispered, the words sounding hollow, yet filled with a profound, artificial longing. "From the mont I saw her, I knew. She was ant for . She was… my dream."
Alaric raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the depth of the confession. 'Damn, Caroline. That Apple really did a number on this guy. Made a powerful, disciplined samurai governor fall for you like a love-struck teenager.'
The power of the artifact to manipulate and amplify emotions was truly formidable.
"She carried a dark sphere," Kawamura continued, his voice still distant. "It... it made feel at peace. It made understand. All my worries, my duties… they ant nothing compared to her. Serving her, pleasing her… that was my only purpose."
"And what did she want?" Alaric asked, guiding the interrogation.
"She wanted to go to Edo," the bugyō replied imdiately. "To the capital. She spoke of... a sword. A blade of great power, hidden sowhere within the Shogun's castle. She said she needed it to complete her… collection. To bring true order to the world."
Alaric nodded slowly, filing the information away. 'A sword in Edo Castle… another artifact hunt. It fits the pattern.'
"And you helped her?"
"Of course," Kawamura said, a faint, blissful smile touching his lips. "I used my authority. Arranged safe passage for her, forged the necessary travel docunts, provided her with funds and a discreet escort. No one would dare question the bugyō's personal guest. She left for Edo two months ago."
Alaric absorbed this, a grim satisfaction settling over him. He had his next destination. But there was one last thing.
"This… corruption," Alaric said, his tone hardening slightly. "The way your samurai have been acting. Like bandits, extorting the people. Was that her command?"
Kawamura's blissful expression faltered, a flicker of his old self, of his ingrained sense of honor, breaking through the haze. "No…" he murmured, a hint of confusion in his voice. "No, she… she never ordered that. She just… left. After she was gone, the feeling… the peace… it faded. But the desire remained. The city felt… empty without her. My n… they beca restless. Angry. They took what they wanted because nothing else mattered anymore. There was no purpose, only… a void."
Alaric understood. The Apple had not commanded them to be thugs. It had simply amplified their desires, then vanished, leaving behind a moral vacuum. Without Caroline's "divine" presence to give them purpose, the corrupted samurai had defaulted to their basest instincts.
It was a subtle, insidious form of chaos.
"I see," Alaric said quietly. He had all the information he needed. He looked at the entranced governor, a man of power and honor, reduced to a lovesick puppet.
With a final, almost gentle touch to the bugyō's forehead, Alaric released the Genjutsu.
Kawamura Zuiken blinked, the world rushing back in. He looked around wildly, at the unconscious bodies of his n, at the strange fisherman standing before him, and the mory of their conversation, hazy yet undeniable, flooded his mind. His face flushed with a deep, profound sha.
But before he could speak, before he could even react, Alaric turned and began walking away, heading back towards the city, leaving the bugyō of Nagasaki alone on a bridge of his own defeated n.
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