Bang!
The crack of a musket shot cut through the humid afternoon air. Jin's body reacted on instinct, twisting aside just in time. The searing bullet hissed past his cheek, close enough to leave a burning line across his skin. Cold sweat beaded on his brow as he snapped around, blade ready, glaring at the towering brute still holding the smoking gun.
"Damn brat!" the man roared, wild eyes bulging in fury. "You dared cut off my arm—you have to die!"
Ignoring the blood pouring from his missing limb, the giant thug raised the weapon again, hand trembling with hate.
Bang!
Jin didn't wait. He'd seen that twitch of a finger; the way muscles tensed before a shot. As the trigger pulled, he lunged sideways, pivoting low. His hand gripped the heavy naval saber by the dull spine—and hurled it like a spear.
"You little—!"
The insult died on the brute's lips. Steel punched through his throat in a wet crunch. Eyes wide, he fell backward, a look of stubborn rage still frozen on his dying face.
Standing over the corpse, Jin let out a shaky breath. "Even dying, you still act tough, huh? Some grown-ups never change…"
He planted a boot on the man's chest, yanked the saber free, then turned to the last of the trio: the monkey-faced thug lying unconscious from blood loss.
"I'd almost let you live," Jin murmured, his tone oddly gentle. "But your faces, the fear in the villagers' eyes… you're scum. Better I finish this."
Shhk.
Steel flashed, quick and merciful. Blood stained the dusty road.
All around, doors stayed shut; a few cracked just enough for pale faces to peer out. Nobody came to help. Nobody dared.
"So familiar," Jin thought bitterly, wiping sweat from his brow. "Different world… same cowardice. Nobody lifts a finger unless it's for themselves."
Dragging his blade across the corpses' clothes, Jin looted a few coins, a crude musket, and other scraps. He tucked them into his coat, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. "At least I'm not starving anymore…"
Then he raised his voice: "Hey! Somebody come out! Corpses lying in the sun will stink up your whole village, you know!"
"Ahem. Young man… that's quite the killing aura you have there."
An old voice rasped from the side street.
Jin turned, blade half-lowered. An elderly man stood there, stooped but solid, leaning on a gnarled black staff. Wrinkles marked a life of hardship, and behind him gathered wary villagers, still keeping their distance.
"Who're you, gramps?" Jin asked, his tone playful but eyes alert.
"I'm the head of Shimojiki Village," the elder replied calmly. "Judging by your clothes… shipwrecked, were you? What do you plan to do now?"
Jin blinked. He hadn't expected understanding so quickly. The elder didn't wait for an answer, instead nodding at the bodies. "Bury them," he ordered the villagers. "Their sins ended here."
Jin exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening. "Yeah… a storm wrecked our ship. My father… didn't make it," he lied, voice trembling just enough to sound real. "I don't have anywhere else. Could I stay here?"
The elder studied the boy before him: small, pale, clothes stained in blood—yet eyes clear and steady, too steady for a child. "Live if you have the strength," the elder finally said. "This village won't drive you out. But you'll have to survive on your own."
Turning, he barked at the villagers, "Enough gawking! Back to work!"
One by one, the people withdrew, casting uneasy glances over their shoulders.
Jin stood there, shoulders drooping slightly. "That's it?" he thought. "No kind old lady offering soup? No hero's welcome?" His lip twitched. "Guess I'm still thinking like a storybook character… It's better this way. I'll make my own place."
His stomach growled, reminding him he was still flesh and blood. He patted the handful of coins looted from the thugs. "Enough to eat," he muttered. "Good. Let's start from there."
The creaking sign of the tavern welcomed him. Jin pushed through the swinging doors, glancing around the empty room. Sunlight slanted across battered tables; the smell of old ale and smoke clung to the walls.
"Oi! Got a customer out here!" he called, voice small but sharp.
Cre-eak.
From the back stepped a tall man in an apron, spectacles perched on his nose. He gave Jin a curious look.
"I want meat," Jin said, hopping onto a high stool by the counter. "A lot of it. And well done."
The man's expression softened into a surprised smile. "Heh! Coming right up! Kitchen—cook everything we've got! All well done!"
"All of it?" a voice echoed from behind the doorway.
"All of it!" the barkeep barked back, chuckling. Then he turned to Jin, wiping his hands on his apron. "Long trip, huh, kid?"
Jin leaned back on the stool, exhaustion finally settling into his bones. "Yeah… but it's over. Shimotsukii Village, huh? Guess this will be my new home…"
Outside, the sun dipped low. And for the first time since waking on that nameless shore, Jin felt the faint, flickering warmth of safety.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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