'Yukinoshita and Yotsuya... are they actually rare cases of severe chuunibyou (middle-school syndrome)?' Saeko Busujima couldn't help but chuckle softly from her distant booth.
She'd never imagined that two such popular, elegant figures at school would have this bizarre, role-playing side to them. It wasn't that she was intentionally eavesdropping. Her senses were simply very sharp, a trait she'd acquired from rigorous martial arts training since childhood. Plus, the sky was gloomy today, making the café quite empty and quiet, which allowed her to overhear their entire dramatic conversation about "Spiritual Vision" and "Laws of the Extraordinary."
She shook her head and smiled warmly as she watched the two girls depart the café.
She then stood up, walked over to Rom's table, and handed him a heavy, leather-bound book she'd prepared beforehand. It was a copy of the family chronicle written and compiled by the Busujima family's ancient patriarch, filled with boastful self-praise. Many of the exaggerated, mystical passages made Saeko herself feel a little embarrassed just looking at it.
'No wonder Father felt that the ancestor had completely disgraced the family's practical reputation and wanted to break his legs…'
"Please help me find records related to the Murasame sword in here," Saeko said politely. "Don't worry about the reward. I will pay you handsomely for your professional time."
"Hmm? Isn't it inappropriate to give me, an outsider, your family history?" Rom asked, surprised.
"Please rest assured, this is a printed copy, not the original manuscript. Besides, the family history has already been shown to many people, and frankly, it's not something incredibly valuable or shameful to hide."
This was the practical truth.
The Busujima family's main chronicle was viewed as nothing but a self-aggrandizing, shameful fantasy novel, long since a laughingstock among the elite martial arts families. Since it was already a joke, she might as well let an "occult professional" search for the mechanical secrets of the Murasame sword. Saeko herself wouldn't be able to figure it out without feeling silly, and her father would only blush in anger and curse their ancestors every time he looked at the pages.
As for leaking information about their family treasure… the Busujima family could keep the physical blade safe. It's just a famous sword using a fabricated name; even if it has some strange, mist-generating features, it doesn't have much historical collectible value.
"…Alright, I'll try to find it for you," Rom agreed, accepting the heavy book.
With payment, anything was possible. Besides, the girl's family seemed quite prominent; they even had a bound family chronicle, so he couldn't refuse a wealthy client.
Saeko Busujima bowed slightly and left.
Rom stayed alone in the coffee shop for a long time, lost in thought, recalling the bizarre conversation with the two high school girls.
The First Law of the Extraordinary. Spiritual vision. The inner world.
Having gained more information from their conversation, Rom himself grew increasingly confused. It seemed… he hadn't seen what he wanted to see. The girls were just teenagers playing a very elaborate, grim game of make-believe.
'So, yesterday's terrifying tarot spread was just a mathematical coincidence after all…?'
He silently took a sip of cold coffee and sighed deeply.
'Yes… I've lived for so many years, where have I ever seen anything real? I was far too naive, letting myself get spooked and doubting reality over a card trick.'
He looked out of the coffee shop with a slightly forlorn expression. The weather was just as gloomy as yesterday, the bustling street appearing dim against the overcast sky.
Time to go back.
Rom suddenly wanted to say a few words to Granny Mitsue's shrine.
'Teacher, do you know… I've confirmed it again today. Everything you insisted on, all the warnings about the abyss... they all seem to be fake.'
Whether mocking himself or ridiculing Granny Mitsue's stubbornness, Rom chuckled softly, grabbed his umbrella, and walked out of the coffee shop.
Oh well. False if it is. Getting the reward from the Busujima family is more important right now.
He leisurely took a cab home to his reasonably decent apartment. The apartment was cluttered, containing many strange, theatrical occult items he used for his video streams.
After eating a quick dinner, Rom sat down at his desk, turned on his reading lamp, and took out the Busujima Family Chronicle to examine it. He remembered that the specific request was to find secrets related to the Murasame sword.
Murasame? Rom vaguely remembered the name of this famous sword from pop culture. It was widely known to be fabricated folklore.
Turning to the first page, Rom's brow furrowed.
This family chronicle had been passed down for quite a long time. At least seven or eight hundred years based on the linguistics. The earliest records contained relevant calendar dates.
If that was the case, then the Murasame legend was even more…
Hmm? He seemed to have realized something. Rom carefully looked at the dates on the first page. It was written about seven hundred years ago. So, when did the Murasame originally appear in history? Eight or nine hundred years ago. It seemed possible that this timeline had somehow survived in this specific family…
The records in this family chronicle were quite meticulous. Rom continued reading.
> [Remember your mission, samurai. You bear more than just your life; there is so much more: glory, responsibility, burden, and pain. The moment you call yourself a samurai, you are no longer a mortal.]
'???'
Rom blinked. 'This family chronicle is strange. Let me take another look.'
Still strange… Rom's face wore a peculiar expression. If it's a historical family chronicle, it should properly record the family's major events, land acquisitions, or political deeds that future generations should admire. Instead, it starts by praising the family's samurai as being "no longer mortal."
'That's really shameless…' Rom thought, shaking his head. 'If a modern descendant of this family saw their ancestor writing fanfiction like this, it would be incredibly embarrassing…'
Suppressing his secondhand embarrassment, Rom continued reading.
> [I am not very good at lecturing my descendants; I can only show you through my actions. I have slain 3,682 demons, destroyed one demon king, and killed 536 villains. With a single Murasame sword, I cut down all evil!]
> [Descendants… Remember everything I have passed down, and become a samurai capable of standing alone.]
That wasn't all. Besides the boastful written records, there were also numerous, highly detailed charcoal illustrations. Most of them depicted a valiant samurai single-handedly slaying grotesque, multi-eyed monsters.
"This…" Rom closed the family chronicle expressionlessly and stood up to make himself a cup of coffee.
'So cringeworthy…' he thought, waiting for the water to boil. 'The ancestors of the Busujima family were truly in the late stages of severe chuunibyou. They were beyond saving.'
Killing thousands of demons with just a fictional Murasame sword? Wouldn't your eyes get dry? Even if you were a legendary general on the battlefield, it's virtually impossible to kill that many lives in your lifetime by your own hand. Moreover, no matter how much the Murasame is hyped up, it's still fictional.
Even if the sword weren't fictional, the sharpest and most durable steel would dull and chip after cutting through bone one or two times. That was the absolute limit of craftsmanship in ancient times. Even a sword made with modern metallurgical technology would be ruined after cutting ten people. Did this old patriarch really think a famous sword was some kind of indestructible divine weapon…?
Rom shook his head, returning to his desk with his coffee. He finally understood the character of the Busujima family's ancestor. He was just a storyteller trying to make his bloodline sound cooler.
Sitting back down, Rom was mentally prepared for the cringe this time.
But as he turned to the next section...
> [Descendants of mine, ignorance is a sin. You need not be angry at the foolish people you are saving; they know nothing. Because they cannot see anything. Their inability to see is both a blessing and a curse. And your duty is to provide them with whatever help you can when they occasionally manage to see.]
Rom froze. His expression went completely blank, and the hand holding his coffee cup began to tremble violently.
See. Cannot see...
It's that exact same phrasing again.
The First Law of the Extraordinary: Unseen is safe.
For a terrifying moment, Rom's heart leaped into his throat. His eyes became bloodshot as he stared at the seven-hundred-year-old ink. The teenage girls in the cafe couldn't possibly have known the contents of this private, ancient family diary.
'This... This is impossible!!!'
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