The carriage jolted slightly as it navigated the cobblestone, sloped pathways toward Gifu's mountain center.
The Iaiashin household was going to need months to recover, and Hideyoshi personally had to promise the head servant that his family would help with procurement; only then did her tears recede.
How was Hideyoshi supposed to know Merun ate meals fit for fifty men?! As far as he knew, Merun had always lived frugally and only ate little bits when he was a child in Owari... Now he was thinking: Had he been suppressing his hunger all that time?
Hideyoshi truly felt pity for his brother, making a mental note to purchase more ranches for meat.
While Hideyoshi was processing his misunderstanding, Merun was completely satisfied.
After the battle, Merun's Saiyan physiology had violently demanded compensation for the sheer energy drain of his ki techniques. Now, thoroughly stuffed and brimming with a fresh Zenkai boost, he was traveling in style. He felt brimming with power—he couldn't wait to check his power level and maybe even get a rematch!
He looked down at his new attire. Iaiashin had provided a custom, high-grade martial gi—pristine, formal enough for an official banquet, but woven from advanced, flexible fibers that allowed for absolute freedom of movement. To top it off, she had tailored a long, flowing spare cape attached to the collar, identical to the one made by Iro, minus the spiked, heavy pauldrons he favored. Still, it was exactly the style he liked.
Noble Namekian style? Merun mused to himself.
"Listen to me carefully, Merun," Hideyoshi said suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?"
The usual loud, goofy smile was entirely gone from the handsome man's face. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and cold. Beside him, Niwa and Takigawa sat straight, watching the transformation in awe. No matter how much they experienced it, Hideyoshi's personality flip into his serious, politically savvy persona was unnerving.
This was the person they were taught to hate—the cold, calculated, invincible heir candidate, as per their family elders. The brat Hideyoshi was a political snake and a powerful warrior. He was their "rival" to the seat.
The only time they could glimpse his true self was when he was in combat.
Of course, since meeting the girl Mikan, he had fully shown his true self, even to them. This was the reason they were now good friends. After all, somehow, a former enemy can become a great friend.
Hideyoshi continued, his voice low and icy.
"The moment we step out of this carriage, you are a walking mountain of gold. Every noble house is going to try to swallow you whole. They will smile, praise you, and then try to trick you into signing away your Senior-grade steel. Your survival guide is simple: act aloof. Never leak your techniques, don't show an ounce of emotion, and let me handle the talking if you get overwhelmed. Got it?"
Merun adjusted his cape, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"Got it... but I think I can handle it."
Hideyoshi nodded silently, but in reality, he was truly worried.
After all, all he knew was that Merun was a young martial artist fresh from the countryside; there was no doubt someone here could make him look like a fool using words.
But no one could ever threaten or make a fool out of him without consequence while he was around.
Hideyoshi meant well, but he didn't know the truth.
Merun wasn't some naive, wide-eyed village boy. Back on Earth, he had been a fully educated adult.
He had survived corporate politics, studied history, and read countless political novels, historical biographies, and complex psychological thrillers.
To someone who understood modern geopolitical strategy, corporate syndicates, and the literal textbook tropes of scheming aristocrats, these localized clan politics weren't terrifying.
They were child's play.
How the heck would he get tricked by people who would likely say, "You're courting death!" or something like that?
Finally, they had arrived.
The moment the gilded doors of Gifu's grandest pavilion opened, the sheer weight of the atmosphere hit Merun like a wall.
Waves of oppressive, high-level auras rolled through the air, vibrating with the density of the clan's elite.
The hall was a dazzling, suffocating display of opulence. Silk banners draped from the vaulted ceilings, tables groaned under ancient wines and exotic delicacies, and hundreds of elegantly dressed noblemen, women, and seasoned martial artists mingled with one another.
Scanning the room, Merun immediately spotted Senior Roro Nora and Senior Ephraim standing near the center, looking relatively recovered but nursing their chalices with tight, somber expressions.
But standing right beside them was an unfamiliar figure who instantly caught his attention.
She was a stunning woman with an intensely "lazy" temperament, draped in a traditional, flowing black kimono that seemed to swallow the ambient light. Her lips were painted a deep, wicked shade of purple.
The moment her gaze drifted over to Merun, she slowly arched an eyebrow and gave him a deliberate, suggestive wink.
A sharp, involuntary shiver shot straight down Merun's spine, causing his hidden furry tail to violently twitch beneath his new gi.
What on earth is her deal?
He mentally braced himself, sensing an unpredictable, dangerous pressure radiating from her.
Before he could dwell on it, the crowd noticed the champion.
"Ah, the man of the hour," a sharp, nasal voice sneered.
A trio of elderly nobles in immaculate, stiff silk robes stepped into Merun's path. They were clearly among those who genuinely loathed the fact that a nameless commoner had won the tournament.
"A truly... unexpected turn of events, young man," the lead purist murmured, swirling his wine with a condescending smile. "Quick to stick to the Toyotomi heir huh. To think the grand finals would be decided by a technicality. Senior Sakuma's eccentricities are well known, of course. His pride often leads him to make foolish wagers. You must feel incredibly lucky that his personal vows handed you a title your own fists couldn't actually seize."
Hideyoshi tensed, preparing to step forward and launch a formal rebuttal, but Merun turned his gaze fully onto the elderly purist, his face entirely flat, devoid of the anger the noble was fishing for.
"Good to meet you three as well, and if you believe Senior Sakuma is a fool who hands out unearned victories on a whim, my suggestion is for you to go find him and tell him to his face," Merun said, his voice completely calm, yet carrying clearly to the surrounding guests. "I can tell him you said this, though. What was your name again?"
The purist's condescending smile instantly froze.
He blinked, completely derailed by the blunt, unbothered redirection.
"You—I did not call him a fool—!" the noble stammered.
"You called his pride a foolish wager," Merun countered smoothly, stepping past him. "I would be more careful about what I say. After all, you never know who's listening. Good evening, Elder."
The purist's face turned an ugly shade of mottled red.
He choked on his own words, completely humiliated, and practically scurried away into the crowd.
Hideyoshi stared at Merun, a slow, impressed smirk mixed with awe breaking across his face.
No sooner had the purists left than a pair of slick-looking merchants wearing heavy jade rings slid into their place, flanked by a shifty-eyed martial elder.
"Lord Moretsuna! A magnificent display of strength!" the first merchant cooed, rubbing his hands together. "A young man of your background must find the burden of raw, Senior-grade Kinzoku steel quite overwhelming to manage. It's a matter of safety! Our merchant coalition possesses the finest treasury vaults. We can 'safeguard' it for you, yielding massive returns in gold!"
"Indeed," the shifty-eyed elder added, leaning in closer, his gaze scanning Merun's muscle structure like a hawk. "And, not to brag, but we have a collection of techniques that's absolutely perfect for your fighting style! Tell us, what's the prerequisite for the explosive light technique you used? If you share the technique with our academy, we can provide you with proper manuals to fix whatever flaws your current style has!"
Merun didn't look angry; he looked profoundly bored. He had seen lazier, more transparent scams on Reddit back on Earth.
Human greed was identical, no matter the universe.
Technically, anyone could use his techniques, so long as they could sense their ki, but people who could do that in this world were so few they were practically nonexistent.
But Merun knew that even in the Kandrian Empire, original martial techniques were bought by the Martial Union.
These idiots want to trade ki techniques for chump martial techniques?
He glanced sideways at Hideyoshi again.
"Hideyoshi, what's the actual policy on technique sharing within the clan? And how much is the Senior-grade Kinzoku ore I have worth, and what would happen if someone stole it?"
Hideyoshi caught on instantly, raising his voice so the neighboring tables could hear.
"Extremely unethical, Merun. Stealing or coercing a Martial Senior into leaking techniques is considered a grave offense against martial heritage. And Senior-grade Kinzoku steel is a finite, legendary resource. The whole clan might even mobilize to destroy would-be thieves."
"Thought so."
Merun turned his attention back to the merchants, his eyes narrowing with a sharp, dangerous intensity as he raised one brow.
The merchants and the elder instantly paled, completely stripped naked before the surrounding nobles who were listening in.
"We meant no disrespect—!" the merchant squeaked.
"Yeah, yeah. Nice meeting you. Goodbye," Merun said coldly.
They bowed frantically, practically tripping over their own robes as they escaped into the crowded hall.
Merun exhaled a long breath, turning to navigate his way through the dense, suffocating sea of silk and heavy perfume.
He wasn't paying full attention to the space immediately in front of him, his mind still calculating his physical recovery and the lingering effects of the Zenkai boost.
Thud.
A small figure collided squarely with his chest.
To Merun, it felt like a stray leaf drifting into a solid brick wall, but the sheer momentum of his dense, reinforced muscle structure sent the girl rebounding backward, losing her footing entirely on the polished floor.
Instincts honed by years of brutal training kicked in instantly.
Before she could even hit the ground, Merun's hand shot out like a whip, firmly catching her by the forearm and pulling her back up into a stable stance in one smooth, effortless motion.
"Shit, my bad," Merun began, looking down. "Are you—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes widened as he took in her face, his brain violently short-circuiting as recognition slammed into him.
"Ah... you?!"