First-Degree Criminal
An hour after the bandits incident...
In the Empire of Kagutsuchi, specifically in the capital, the city seemed like paradise in this world. Lavish buildings made of teak and hinoki wood, no more than two stories high, interspersed with low watchtowers and miniature Zen gardens with clear streams flowing through them everywhere. Despite the late hour, the place was crowded with people.
Akiyama had returned, but in a different form; his once silver hair was now a dark black, and his blood-red eyes had turned blue, surrounded by dark circles. His body appeared thin and weak, as if he hadn't eaten for two days. He wore an old, pitch-black kimono, and on his back was a long katana. Akiyama was walking through the area, thinking to himself,
"When you enter the capital for the first time, you'd think everything here is beautiful, and you'd live under the illusion that all its corners are like this place. But the truth is dark—nothing is perfect. There must be a bad side to it."
Akiyama raised his head toward the dark sky, smiling.
"I changed my appearance to avoid raising suspicion. They will certainly monitor me, so I must appear weak—someone who completes missions by luck or coincidence—so I can freely execute my plans instead of revealing my strength. I also need to pretend to be a righteous man seeking good."
Akiyama started moving and said in irritation:
"I should head to the headquarters now."
Akiyama arrived at the Samurai Headquarters, which was a single-story building where samurai gathered and were assigned missions. Missions varied depending on the rank of the samurai. Low-ranking samurai were often sent to kill fifth- or sixth-degree criminals—mostly former low-ranked samurai or groups of bandits and thieves. If a low-ranking samurai was sent along with a high-ranking one to kill a third- or second-degree criminal, they were likely being used as bait.
Akiyama entered the dark headquarters.
He pushed the door open with a creak and continued walking toward the office. In front of him sat a man behind a decaying wooden desk covered in scattered papers. He was seated on a cheap, low-quality wooden chair. His hair was messy and tangled, as if a comb hadn't touched it in days, and deep black circles hung under his eyes. This man was Masaru, a high-ranking samurai and a potential future commander.
Masaru looked at Akiyama without showing any expression and said in a low, tired voice, as if he hadn't slept in a full day:
"So, you completed your mission by killing that group of bandits... and now, looking at you, I think you're ready for the next one."
Akiyama replied, the look of surprise clear on his face:
"And what is that mission?"
A wicked smile spread across Masaru's face, and his tone changed:
"You'll be the bait in the next mission."
Akiyama, noticing the change in Masaru's behavior when he asked about the mission, asked:
"Bait for whom?"
Masaru looked at him and said:
"To be bait in the mission to kill First-Degree Criminal Yusuko."
Silence fell over the place. Just hearing the name "Yusuko" was enough to instill fear in anyone.
Akiyama looked at the samurai, pretending to be frightened—making his body tremble—and asked, feigning a stutter:
"A-and w-who will be with me on t-this m-mission?"
Masaru replied:
"Don't worry, you'll be accompanied by a high-ranking samurai. All you have to do is lure Yusuko. That's all. This mission will make you more useful. If you fail, you'll be a man who sacrificed for his nation. If you succeed, you'll be a hero who brought glory to it. So, what do you say?"
Akiyama, still pretending to be afraid, responded in a low voice, as if accepting the mission reluctantly:
"Alright... I accept the mission."
Once Akiyama left, Masaru returned to his exhausted state. He placed his head on the table over the scattered papers and said in a weary voice:
"I pity him. The order came from one of the commanders. It's like a death sentence for a young man like him."
Akiyama sat in one of the capital's most beautiful gardens. Each tree was of a different kind, and the flowers were of various colors. He sat on a low wooden platform in front of a cherry blossom tree and sighed:
"They really are starting to suspect me. How am I supposed to believe they're sending a high-ranking samurai along with a bunch of former prisoner samurai to face a former commander like Yusuko? What confirms my doubts is that all the samurai accompanying me have committed crimes again after being released and are trying to cover them up. The high-ranking samurai is there just to keep them from escaping. None of this makes sense..."
A strange expression appeared on his face as he wondered:
"Are they suspecting me... or are they trying to get rid of me? I need to find out."
When he looked at Yusuko's record to confirm his story and abilities, he read:
"Yusuko was formerly a samurai during the Third Era with the rank of commander. He fought in many battles and won them all. He killed many yokai as if they were mere insects. He has a strong physique, and when he turned against the samurai, no one could stop him. Since then, he's been a terror roaming the world. He is now seventy years old but still poses a great threat. He can use magic, specifically ice magic. If they really wanted to kill him, they would've sent a commander. But instead, they just sent this group."
Akiyama smiled and said:
"Alright... I'll play along with your little plan. I should go now—I'm late."
Akiyama entered the slums of the capital.
Everything in front of him was ruin—destroyed buildings, debris scattered everywhere, and poverty prevailing in every corner. Corpses of those who died from starvation, children trying to steal food, rats emerging from the rubble, murky water streams, the smell of rot from decaying corpses, withered faces from lack of food, and polluted air filled the area. Even the tree leaves had wilted. He looked around and said:
"Everything here is destroyed... this is the dark side of the capital. Here, people starve while the noble children live in luxury. Here, children are abandoned, and if their families go bankrupt, they lose everything. There's a difference between those whose worst thoughts are about losing toys and those who wish for death. That's when a child loses his light and becomes hopeless in this miserable life..."
Akiyama continued walking and said:
"I need to check on him."
Akiyama entered a house—a rickety wooden structure that could collapse at any moment. He found his younger brother, Kangiro, in front of him. His body was frail and weak, with dark black hair and black eyes. His face was pale, and his clothes were slightly torn.
Kangiro looked at him, his face twisted in anger, and shouted furiously:
"Why don't you quit that damn job?! Why must you get injured every time?! Every time I see you, you're covered in wounds!"
Akiyama sighed and calmly said:
"Forget it, Kangiro. If I quit, you'll starve. So let's not talk about this."
Kangiro, still angry, replied:
"Enough, big brother! Even if I'm a kid, I understand the truth! But what will happen to me after you die?!"
Akiyama, coldly:
"They'll give you compensation, and you'll carry on with your life... Now, let me go to sleep."
Akiyama went to his room—it was messy, with scattered belongings. He sat on his worn-out chair, thinking about what just happened, looking up at the ceiling.
"Truly... that kid is aware despite being only twelve years old. He sees the harsh truth of this world. But to me, his words are just the noise of a child clinging to his brother. I've long lost the ability to express emotions. I've only regained a quarter of my power, and with every bit I recover, I lose more of my emotions. I lied to him when I said I didn't leave the samurai for his sake. Moreover, my body never sleeps... I was lying to him."
Akiyama's face became expressionless and void of emotion.
"I need to clear my mind now."
Meanwhile, at home, Kangiro was extremely angry, thinking to himself:
"Why won't he listen to me? I've started having strange dreams... I see him disappearing gradually—every day, a part of him fades. It's terrifying, and there's no way it's a normal dream. He won't believe me if I tell him, but I'll do everything I can to convince him."
Kangiro's face turned serious. He was confident he could persuade Akiyama.
Far away, on an icy mountain...
A snowstorm raged across the land, with mutilated corpses scattered everywhere. On top of a pile of bodies sat a man, holding his blood-stained blade.
The corpses were all yokai, brutally torn apart. The man was muscular, his face marked with wrinkles and scars showing his age and experience. His white hair covered his right eye.
He smiled widely and arrogantly said:
"Seems they've sent the weak ones to fight me..."
That man was Yusuko.