To be honest, the Patriarch of the Busujima family had always believed that Busujima was the main family line. But the ancient chronicles explicitly recorded that there seemed to be another, true "main family" sitting above the Busujimas.
Although it was only mentioned briefly in the margins, one could clearly feel the ancestor's profound reverence and submission to this mysterious "main family."
This subservience was also a major reason why the proud Patriarch had always refused to acknowledge the family chronicles. What modern martial artist would be happy to suddenly learn they had an extra emperor sitting on their heads dictating their legacy?
Probably no one.
Tokyo: Rom's Apartment
Rom sat at his cluttered desk, pondering the cryptic words of the chronicle with an increasingly uncertain expression.
He had already done a preliminary online investigation into the famous Busujima family. It was a martial arts family with a long, respected history, and once a very prominent noble clan. Although it was not as politically powerful as it had been in the feudal era, it was still considered a mid-level aristocratic family.
Would such a proud noble family actually have a main family above them?
Through the internet and a series of underworld connections, Rom found absolutely no historical information about any major noble branch treating the Busujimas as subordinates. On the contrary, there were many smaller branch families under the Busujima banner.
This was strange…
'Could it be that the ancestors of Busujima were just fabricating a fictitious, grand "background" to make themselves sound cooler?'
Rom didn't rush to conclusions; instead, he began searching through other historical avenues.
Busujima. Busujima…
He paced aimlessly back and forth in his study, his brow furrowed, unable to come up with a logical solution.
'Wait. That's it.' Rom stopped. 'What did the young lady of the Busujima family actually ask me to find? Murasame! That's it!'
Slightly excited at breaking the deadlock, Rom quickly shifted his focus and started investigating the origins of the name Murasame.
The legend of Murasame appeared a very long time ago, roughly during the Kamakura period. At that time, the "samurai" movement was just beginning to flourish and assert political dominance. Therefore, the most powerful military clan that supposedly controlled the legendary Murasame during that era was the renowned Hojo clan.
The Hojo were a powerful, terrifying military dynasty that had conquered the land in the name of the samurai. Their patriarch, Hojo Soun, was quite legendary, leading later generations to view him through a mythical lens. Folklore eventually attributed a fictional, magical sword to him—Murasame.
However, in historical reality, the specific sword Hojo Soun used was unclear and never definitively identified.
Hojo…
Rom scratched his head, searching for further details. But he still couldn't find any historical text mentioning a subordinate branch of the Hojo clan called Busujima. Yet, the ancestors of Busujima, with their abundance of dramatic samurai banter in the chronicle, were remarkably similar to the specific martial style of the Hojo samurai of that era.
This was quite perplexing.
'Hojo. Busujima… What kind of hidden connection exists between the two…?'
Feeling he might have missed a crucial clue, Rom quickly flipped back through the physical chronicle. He unexpectedly came across a stern warning he hadn't paid much attention to earlier:
> [The remaining Busujima family must bear all the consequences of this duty, and must never reveal the family secrets. My achievements will be judged by future generations, not by outsiders. Furthermore, the family secrets are poison to mortals! They contain many things unsuitable for ordinary people.]
> [Mortals are ignorant, but ignorance is what ensures their safety. Future generations should remember this, and not assume that merely viewing these texts guarantees their safety.]
Click, click… Rom tapped his pen against the desk.
More of this…
Rom finally confirmed one terrifying thing. What Yukino and Miko had said in the cafe today, and what the Busujima ancestors had recorded centuries ago, were very likely the exact same set of rules!
Unbelievable…
Rom's expression trembled slightly. People from hundreds of years ago, separated by vast gulfs of history, were actually providing a unique, undeniable kind of corroboration to the girls' modern claims.
And…
'Ignorance is what ensures safety for mortals?' Rom thought, his heart beating faster. 'What does that mean? A glorification of the powerful's monopoly on knowledge? No, it doesn't seem like it…'
So what was the true, mechanical meaning of this statement? What exactly did the ancestors of the Busujima family want to warn their descendants about?
Rubbing his temples, Rom suddenly felt a sharp, burning sting in his eyes. He winced, blinking rapidly.
This Busujima family chronicle was a paradox. If taken as a historical joke, it was quite obscure; but if you looked at it seriously, it was terrifyingly difficult to understand. Many concepts were hard to grasp. He could only vaguely guess at the esoteric mechanics behind them.
After resting his eyes for a while, Rom thought of getting up to refill his coffee. But as he stood, a casual glance at the next page caught a glimpse of an incredibly unbelievable statement.
He quickly sat back down, pulled the book close, and stared at it.
> [My descendants, know that if something is impossible, then there is no chance. If you lack talent, then assist those with talent. If you are fortunate enough to succeed, remember the moment of success; that feeling will be your lifelong treasure…]
Boom—!!
It exploded. A secular string in his mind violently snapped.
'Granny Mitsue…'
That was Granny Mitsue's exact admonition to him! He still vividly remembered Granny Mitsue's earnest words the day he left her shrine. It was like reading a thousand volumes of false teachings, only to find a single, blinding sentence of true wisdom buried within.
This sentence proved everything.
Another ancient saying was proven undeniably true in later generations…
He clutched his hair with trembling hands. A suffocating wave of disbelief, profound confusion, and utter helplessness washed over him.
One was a legendary samurai from hundreds of years ago. The other was a modern, supposedly "fake" religious elder. Their almost identical, patient teachings deeply shocked Rom to his core.
In his confusion, the burning, agonizing sting in his eyes suddenly intensified, forcing Rom back to physical reality.
It was quiet. Too serene.
The apartment seemed to have fallen into a deathly, unnatural silence. Only Rom's uneven, ragged breathing could be heard.
He was confused, yet he instinctively reached out and touched the wooden rosary beads wrapped around his wrist. This was a parting gift from Granny Mitsue. He had always thought Granny Mitsue was just being stingy, giving him cheap beads instead of money.
But now…
'Was I wrong…?' Rom thought, tears of pain pricking the corners of his eyes. 'Was I really wrong about everything…?'
"Bang…"
Hmm? What was that?
Rom looked back toward the hallway, flustered. He was entirely alone in his apartment; where did that heavy noise come from?
A mouse? Or something else?
Closing the family register, Rom slowly got up and walked into the living room.
So quiet…
Rom's spiritual senses, honed by years of fake practice, suddenly screamed that something was horribly amiss. His heart raced. 'Was it really a rat…?'
He checked the kitchen. Nothing.
He checked the toilet. Nothing.
He checked his bedroom. Still nothing.
Where?
A strange, extreme sense of existential unease washed over Rom.
'Where are you?!'
After searching frantically for a while, he found the source of the wrongness. Returning to the living room, he was about to sit on the sofa to rest when, almost unconsciously, he looked toward the drawn living room curtains.
Rubbing his extremely sore, burning eyes, he staggered over to the glass and grabbed the fabric. He pulled them open.
Instantly.
His pupils contracted to pinpricks, and he froze completely on the spot.
Outside the window, the gloomy, overcast sky remained unchanged. But the empty space within that sky was filled. Countless, grotesque twists and turns were writhing in the air.
In the sky, strange, asymmetrical birds with densely packed human eyeballs soared through the clouds. On the ground below, enormous, pulsating lumps of decaying flesh lay scattered across the asphalt, dragging themselves along the street.
Entities. Spirits. Horrors beyond human comprehension.
Thump…
Rom's legs gave out, and he collapsed heavily to the floor. His eyes were fixed on the window, wide and unblinking. His heart pounded against his ribs, throbbing with hot, crimson blood.
He had learned too much. He had confirmed the truth. He had crossed the threshold of forbidden knowledge.
His "Eyes" had violently, irreversibly opened.
Tears, unnoticed by himself, streamed down his pale face. His hands trembled violently as he reached out toward the glass, as if trying to touch that magical, yet utterly terrifying new world.
'Ah… Ah…'
Beautiful. What a beautiful, horrific sight…
What are they? What the hell are they!?
"Heh heh…" Rom laughed. The sound bubbled up from his throat, completely out of his control. As if his mind had finally snapped under the weight of reality.
"Hehehehe... Hehehehehahahaha...!"
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