Chapter 255: Know Your Enemy and Know Yourself, and You Need Not Fear a Hundred Battles?

I step in; he steps back. My attacks are deflected; his counters are parried. I figured out yesterday that creating distance is a bad move. It eats away at my focus, but it's better than letting that shitty AI mannequin take its stance. After facing it again and again, each time getting slammed into the floor, I finally realized: the A.I. Ultimate Master's — no, Ryuguin Fugaku's — battle style is a compound of two distinct stats.

Kyogoku: "Diii—!"

I use my left shinai, flipped to a reverse grip, to parry an incoming sideways strike aimed at my torso. The one strike I was sure would win is dealt with by a dodge with a margin no thicker than a single layer of skin. An instant later, my head gets bashed, and I'm the one sinking to the floor.

Kyogoku: "I can't win…"

It's not just that everything is high-level. Ryuguin Fugaku's fighting style pushes two aspects to their absolute limits: "footwork that dodges the opponent's movements perfectly by a hair's breadth" and "shinai handling that drives attacks into the opponent's vitals at the fastest, most optimal, shortest trajectory."

It's not that he's simply strong overall. It's that if you figure out how to beat one aspect, the other will still hunt you down. It's a cruel trap, like a bomb where cutting either the red or the blue wire makes it explode.

So I tried the strategy of tracing those same movements to cancel them out. But as expected, a shallow imitation cobbled together from watching and copying can't even compare to a crystallization of skill honed over a lifetime of battles.

Kyogoku: "Actually, the trick isn't body mechanics—it's that his kinetic vision and experience are monstrous."

I figured it out by trying to copy him. That setup isn't just about being strong. It's the crystallization of a madman—an insanely skilled individual who poured his entire life into those two points: his footwork and his blade handling.

But I have to say… I don't really like this. Not that I'm denying it. I get that some people love exactly that.

Kyogoku: "…'In my youth, I lit a fire in my heart and fought. Now, I devote myself to governing the rivers within my own body,' huh?"

In other words, it's a battle against yourself… right?

My grandfather—my master—once said to me:

Fugaku: "Don't become like me."

What on earth was he talking about? You're the strongest swordsman in this country—no, the strongest in the world! The pinnacle every swordsman should strive toward! Why would someone like you say such a thing?

In the end, Grandfather passed away without ever giving me the answer. Old age… At the very least, those of us left behind want to believe it was a life with no regrets.

Kyogoku: "............"

Even if it's supposed to be the final boss—the AI Grandmaster—its strength is still heavily weighted toward kendo as a sport. I obviously couldn't use dirty tricks in a real match, but once I started playing a little nastier with my footwork, dealing with it became surprisingly simple.

Kyogoku: "Hah..."

I don't think I'm superior to the person this "AI Grandmaster" is based on. In the end, it's just an AI. The means I used are heresy even within heresy for kendo—rule violations, plain and simple. But even so… no, precisely because of that, my disappointment is huge. While sorting through Grandfather's belongings, Grandmother handed me this "VR Kendo Classroom: Extreme," saying, "He had prepared this as a birthday present for you." Having cleared it, my overall impression is heavily colored by disappointment.

I see. So it really is a classroom… In other words, it's an excellent tool for practice. But it's just a tool. I don't understand why he went out of his way to give this to me—me, the one who chased after Grandfather's back and, true to the name he gave me, became a swordsman with "no enemy from the west of the capital to the east."

Kyogoku: "Why... am I not supposed to become like you...?"

I'll never get an answer. The person who posed the question is no longer in this world. I'm sure I'll carry this question with me forever. I log out. The package for VR Kendo Classroom: Extreme, tossed carelessly onto my desk, almost seemed like it wanted to say something… but that's just my imagination.

Kyogoku: "This weekend, huh... If possible, I'd like to test myself against Schwarz Vulf's main force."

There's no choice but to find the answer in battle. Just as Grandfather once fought his way through countless matches, I, still young, need even more intense combat experience.

Sunraku: "Login—Heaven's Punishment!"

???: "Guwah—?!"

Sunraku: "Login bonus—Heaven's Punishment!"

???: "Guhah—?!"

Sunraku: "Heaven's Punishmeeeent!"

Sunraku: "Whoa, dangerous! You're with the Restoration side? I'll make damn sure to punish you thoroughly!"

???: "Damn you, Shinsengumiiii!?"

Aahahahaha! There's nothing better for blowing off steam than cutting down a bunch of small fry with dazzling skill! Now that I think about it calmly, charging into a nest of tough enemies as a way to unwind is completely insane!

Tsujigiri Capriccio: Online… commonly known as "Bakumatsu." Morality doesn't exist in this game. Bakumatsu is a game made for player-killers, by player-killers. Here, even checking your login bonus is a fatal opening.

Basically, "rogue" players either steal NPC tenement houses or become freeloaders using the Dogeza Command—an utter heresy in this game—to secure a save point. But, well… doing that basically makes you a sitting duck. Any player who's gotten somewhat used to this game understands you can't survive as a rogue. That's why you join a faction. At least that lowers the chance of getting ambushed while saving…

Because it's a game, there are some visual effects and physically impossible movements, but the basic world is modeled after Japan's Bakumatsu era. Players are better off joining either the "Shogunate Army" or the "Restoration Army." And this game, aside from the fact that its entire concept is a straight-up path of carnage and brutality, is actually pretty well-made. If you join the "Restoration Army," you can use firearms as weapons in addition to the basic sword skills. If you join the "Shogunate Army," you get a bonus to sword skills, and in a swords-only fight, your specs can surpass the Restoration Army.

???: "I thought I recognized you—you're that 'Wolf of Mibu' from the Single-Digit Squads!"

Sunraku: "Oh, yeah. For the record, my best record was serving as the assault captain of Squad Two."

???: "A hardcore ranker, dammit!"

I'm basically semi-retired now, so I've fallen to Squad Nine, but at least for today, I might try to rack up my score enough to hit around Squad Five. Squad Three and above is true hardcore territory, so that'd be impossible for me.

In this game, rankers are nothing less than powerhouses who've racked up that many PKs. As I look down at the timid Restoration players, I realize this won't serve as much of an experiment, so I light a fire under them.

Sunraku: "I'll give you cowardly bastards some motivation."

I grab both swords at my hip, sheaths and all, and thrust them before the Restoration players as if showing them off.

Sunraku: "The limited-edition ranker reward from last spring: 'Shidare Yozakura.' And the ranker reward from that same summer: 'Tamaya: Hasshaku.'… And as you can see, I'm not 'death-retired.' You get the rest, right?"

Sure, I don't have the "National Treasure" class—the reward for the number one ranker, the Commander of Squad One—but that doesn't change the fact that limited-edition blades are extremely tempting bait.

Restoration Players: "Heaven's Punishment—!!"

So wonderfully faithful to their greed! In this game, the chance to run into the ultimate mark—a bag of meat carrying a ton of items—is worth ignoring the risk of the game system's full inventory loss.

The Restoration patriots charge at me with lively expressions; I answer with a grin of my own and draw my blades. Come on, everyone, say it with me! Let's chant the magic words that shift all the blame for our killing onto something else!

Sunraku: "Heaven's Punishment!!"

Heaven said to do it. So it can't be helped… It's Heaven's Punishment!

Sunraku: "I'll act as your second. Compose your death poem."

???: "Don't get cocky… I may be a patriot, but I'm the weakest… Patriots stronger than me will…!"

Sunraku: "A splendid tanka! Beheading and gibbetting!"

???: "If you could at least pawn my items… gahah!"

I finish off the Bakumatsu patriot, who had begged for his life using the Dogeza Command—which also essentially functions as a surrender command—and finally catch my breath. Dying by seppuku means your death penalty is waived… to put it mildly, this game is insane. That said, the one performing the beheading gets a bonus too, so you see players committing seppuku pretty frequently.

As a samurai's mercy, I'll dump all the loot I got into the pawnshop. If some time passes without me repaying the loan, they'll probably be able to buy the items back.

Sunraku: "Yeah, you really can't pick up new skills just fighting the same enemies over and over. Nothing beats practical experience!"

Alright. I want to settle things with the A.I. Ultimate Master before the defensive battle for Rabituza. Time to seriously make this thing my own—to move beyond shallow imitation to the next stage: Role Play!!

[The guts to use your real name as your player name... though the person in question insists, "It's fine because the reading is different"...]

[For the record, "watashi" is the first-person pronoun she uses while doing kendo, and "boku" is the one she normally uses. Her grandfather made her promise to use "watashi" while doing kendo because, as he put it, "You must never be ashamed to hold a sword as a woman; it will cloud your blade."]