At noon, after reviewing Gogyo Ruri's key animation assignments and conducting a second inspection of the animation direction work, Kamiyā Yuu felt as though his body was about to fall apart from spending the entire morning sitting in his office. He planned to head up to the rooftop of the office building to stretch his body, only to discover that someone had arrived before him.
Busujima Murasaki was a traditional Japanese woman who carried herself with the aura of a Japanese sword. When sheathed, she was reserved, gentle, and refined; when unsheathed, she was sharp, imposing, and cold.
She wore a black women's suit. Unlike the short skirts of ordinary office uniforms, her long jade-like legs were wrapped in black slacks, giving her an impression of seriousness and conservatism.
The rooftop was fairly spacious, enclosed by waist-high white railings around the edges, with little else in sight.
Busujima Murasaki knelt gracefully on a light-purple mat. Beside her lay a dark-brown wooden sword. Sitting upright with her hands resting on her knees and her eyes lightly closed, she appeared perfectly composed.
As the breeze brushed against her cheeks and lifted her dark-purple hair, she sensed Kamiyā Yuu approaching from behind without even looking.
"Murasaki, is this what they call achieving unity of mind and spirit in movies?"
Standing a short distance away, Kamiyā Yuu stretched his neck and joked casually.
Truthfully, aside from discussing work, he wasn't particularly good at interacting with women like Busujima Murasaki.
His way of exercising was simple: stretching his legs, bending over, doing a few squats, hopping around a little, and finishing with a set of universally recognized radio calisthenics.
After one round of activity, he immediately felt far more refreshed than he did sitting in an air-conditioned office.
"Mr. Kamiyā."
Busujima Murasaki stood, turned to face him, and then sat down again.
Shaking her head with a smile, she replied, "My swordsmanship hasn't reached that level. Right now, I'm only training my sensitivity to subtle movements and seeking the ability to detect unusual situations immediately. For example, in the quiet environment just now, apart from the sound of the wind, the only other sound was your footsteps on the stairs. So I knew someone was approaching before you even opened the door."
"Like those ace bodyguards in movies?" Kamiyā Yuu asked curiously. "Speaking of which, is that wooden sword beside you your regular weapon?"
His gaze shifted to the dark-brown wooden sword.
The wood had undergone special treatment, making it exceptionally smooth while giving off a faint metallic chill.
Every time he saw Busujima Murasaki, she carried a long object inside a black bag. Its curved shape naturally made one think of a Japanese sword, so he hadn't expected it to be a wooden sword.
"No. A wooden sword is basically equivalent to a police baton. My actual sidearm is this."
Busujima Murasaki shook her head while touching the wooden sword. After a moment's thought, she produced a compact black pistol from behind her.
"Although I'm somewhat confident in my swordsmanship, in this era, firearms are still more convenient."
Kamiyā Yuu remembered that firearms were strictly regulated in Japan. However, considering Busujima Murasaki's background, he wasn't surprised.
Influential Japanese families with long histories possessed deeply entrenched connections. Acquiring even a heavy machine gun wouldn't necessarily be difficult for them.
It was Kamiyā Yuu's first time seeing a real handgun in this world, and he couldn't help but become interested.
"A real pistol? Can I take a look?"
His curiosity made Busujima Murasaki pause.
She had originally produced the pistol partly to tease him. Most ordinary people instinctively became nervous when faced with a genuinely lethal weapon.
Respectfully presenting it with both hands, she smiled softly.
"Of course. But please don't disengage the safety."
This black pistol was far from ordinary. It had been custom-made by an arms manufacturer specifically for personal use, incorporating cutting-edge technology in both design and practicality.
The moment he picked it up, Kamiyā Yuu noticed something unusual about the grip.
Apparently, the pistol had been built directly from Busujima Murasaki's body measurements. Even the grip perfectly matched the size of her right hand.
Others could still use it, but the handling would never be as comfortable as it was for its owner.
Kamiyā Yuu examined the pistol for a moment and quickly grasped its internal structure.
Then, with a twist of both hands, the previously seamless handgun instantly came apart into several components.
The most eye-catching part was the magazine filled with golden-orange bullets.
The bullet tips resembled tightly folded flower petals.
Kamiyā Yuu's brows furrowed.
Those rounds had clearly been designed for maximum lethality.
They resembled the infamous dum-dum bullets prohibited by international conventions.
Ordinary bullets generally had high penetration power. If they didn't hit a vital area and the victim received timely medical treatment, survival was quite likely.
A single shot could drop someone, but many victims died primarily due to blood loss after failing to receive prompt treatment.
Dum-dum rounds were different.
When they struck a target, the bullet would fragment, causing devastating internal damage.
A hit to the thigh could potentially cause damage extending to internal organs and even affect the entire body through the spread of fragments.
Hundreds of metal fragments could become embedded deep inside the victim.
"It looks pretty compact. I didn't expect it to hold sixteen rounds."
Kamiyā Yuu smiled.
With a quick movement of his hands, the pistol returned to its original assembled state.
Busujima Murasaki frowned slightly.
Even as a professionally trained assassin, she wasn't sure she could disassemble the pistol as quickly as he had.
Moreover, she understood this particular weapon better than anyone.
After hesitating briefly, she asked, "Mr. Kamiyā, have you handled firearms before?"
"Ah~ about the level of a shooting-range enthusiast. This is actually my first time handling a real pistol."
He returned the handgun to her with a smile.
In this world, it truly was his first encounter with a real firearm.
As for his previous world...
Because of his personal interests, the underground warehouse in that abandoned town had contained enough weaponry to rival a military arsenal.
Driving out in an off-road vehicle to practice shooting had been a pleasant way to pass the time.
He had also studied a tremendous amount of firearms knowledge online.
Firearms were the world's mainstream weapons, and one never knew when such knowledge might prove useful.
"Can I see the wooden sword too?"
Kamiyā Yuu had fully transformed into a curious child.
"Please, go ahead."
Busujima Murasaki once again offered it with both hands.
Her cool gaze couldn't help revealing a trace of curiosity.
She wasn't a nosy person. Since Kamiyā Yuu clearly had no intention of explaining his true reasons, she wouldn't ask further.
Taking the wooden sword, Kamiyā Yuu felt his hands sink slightly under its weight.
The blade's cold temperature made it feel as though he were touching metal.
"Unsharpened. Blade length is sixty-five centimeters. The weight is approximately five and a half kilograms. Handle length is ten centimeters. The handle weighs about half a kilogram."
Kamiyā Yuu casually stated the sword's specifications.
Busujima Murasaki was increasingly astonished.
Being able to accurately estimate its weight without any measuring instruments meant either that Kamiyā Yuu possessed extraordinary control over his body or that he was naturally gifted.
The blade length of sixty-five centimeters matched that of a standard katana, a practical size suitable for carrying and effective in confined spaces.
The swords often seen in Japanese films were generally tachi, usually over eighty centimeters long and requiring two hands to wield effectively.
The legendary swordsman Sasaki Kojirō's famous nodachi, *Monohoshizao*, was said to be 106 centimeters long.
Legend claimed only a sword of that length could properly execute his signature technique—*Swallow Reversal*—which could unleash three strikes simultaneously and seal every possible escape route of a swallow.
However, the weight of this wooden katana was astonishing.
A normal steel katana weighed around one kilogram.
Two kilograms already required considerable grip strength.
An ordinary person wielding a three-kilogram sword could easily injure their wrists.
A blunt weapon exceeding five kilograms possessed an impact force comparable to a solid steel club.
Even without an edge, one strike could easily break a person's arm.
Could Busujima Murasaki's slender, elegant hands really control such a heavy weapon?
Sensing his doubt, she calmly explained:
"The outer material is desert hardwood treated with special techniques. The interior contains high-density alloy for balance, allowing it to achieve optimal cutting performance."
"With that much effort, why not just use a real sword?" Kamiyā Yuu mused while handling the wooden blade.
A trace of complexity flashed across Busujima Murasaki's face.
"A real sword isn't convenient to carry. Also... for certain personal reasons, my lady has forbidden me from handling real blades."
"Can I give it a try?"
Kamiyā Yuu smiled and lightly swung the wooden sword.
His interest had been piqued by memories of the swordsmanship training he had undergone within the consciousness space.
Busujima Murasaki nodded.
Naturally, Kamiyā Yuu knew how to use bladed weapons.
When conceptualizing Blake's promotional short 'Black—Leaping Shadow' for 'RWBY', he had spent considerable time studying Japanese swordsmanship.
Blake's close-combat style combined iaido, traditional Japanese sword techniques, chain-sword combat, and more.
Within the consciousness space, he had experimented with everything from realistic battlefield swordsmanship to legendary techniques that existed only in fiction, such as *Swallow Reversal*, *Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū*, and *Mumei Kamikaze-ryū*.
It had been quite enjoyable.
In reality, however, his physical condition prevented him from performing such techniques.
Japanese swordsmanship was fundamentally tied to the use of Japanese swords.
To ordinary observers, it often seemed to consist largely of various cutting motions.
Similarly, Western fencing often looked like little more than repeated thrusts.
The most basic technique in Japanese swordsmanship was the vertical cut.
The practitioner raised the blade overhead and brought it down straight along the centerline.
Its power depended largely on the wielder's physical strength.
A frail sword master might produce a weaker strike than a muscular laborer's casual swing.
That wasn't to say the technique was useless.
In countless films, protagonists always begin sword training with this movement.
It effectively developed arm strength and full-body coordination.
With enough practice, a swordsman would inevitably generate greater power than an untrained person of equal physique.
Since he wanted to try it, he simply did.
Gripping the heavy wooden sword, Kamiyā Yuu's eyes sharpened with a sword-like gleam.
Stepping forward with his right foot, he generated force from the ground upward.
The power traveled through his spine, then into his arms.
His muscles erupted with explosive force.
For an instant, his entire body entered the state every Japanese swordsman dreamed of—perfect unity between body and spirit.
The strike wasn't powered by his arms alone.
It was the concentrated release of strength gathered throughout his entire body.
*Whoosh!*
A clear, sharp sword cry echoed through the air.
The heavy wooden sword stopped perfectly in midair.
Fast.
Accurate.
Ruthless.
And possessing the most difficult quality for any swordsman to master—
Stability.
Even Busujima Murasaki, who had studied swordsmanship since childhood, was inwardly shaken.
This simple vertical cut was among the greatest tests of a swordsman's skill.
She had never seen even her own instructor execute it so perfectly.
Most importantly, Kamiyā Yuu had used a specialized heavy wooden sword designed specifically for her exceptional strength.
Many trained swordsmen would struggle merely to wield it, let alone produce such a beautiful strike.
Kamiyā Yuu lowered the sword and frowned at his hands.
They were trembling slightly.
A numb ache seemed to emerge from deep within his bones.
If he performed another strike like that, he suspected he wouldn't be using his hands properly for at least a month.
"Murasaki, my swordsmanship isn't bad, right?"
After returning the wooden sword, he massaged his wrists and smiled with some satisfaction.
Even if the techniques he learned in the consciousness space weren't practical, they were still useful for showing off.
Busujima Murasaki nodded solemnly.
"At my current level of swordsmanship, I am not qualified to evaluate yours, Mr. Kamiyā. That strike just now... even after prolonged meditation and preparation, I'm not sure I could reproduce it. If you chose to pursue the path of the sword, becoming a world-renowned sword master would only be a matter of time."
Then she noticed him rubbing his wrists.
Her expression changed immediately.
She stood and grabbed his hands to inspect them, pressing gently around the joints.
"Mr. Kamiyā, do you feel numbness or pain?"
She was puzzled.
When he held the sword, his bearing was unquestionably that of a sword master.
Yet his hands showed none of the signs of sword training.
Neither his arm muscles nor his smooth palms indicated any history of practicing swordsmanship.
"A little. Nothing serious."
Kamiyā Yuu waved dismissively.
It wasn't that he didn't care about his hands.
Rather, he had begun sensing that the consciousness space was gradually influencing his real-world abilities.
As the boundary between reality and illusion blurred, the changes to his body became increasingly remarkable.
Whenever he consciously wished to recover in the consciousness space, his healing speed seemed to increase dramatically.
"Using the heavy wooden sword still placed too much strain on your muscles. Please come with me. This kind of muscular overexertion requires a special medicinal solution to treat the micro-injuries. Otherwise, your hands will feel severely sore and numb today and tomorrow."
Busujima Murasaki looked at him seriously.
"You are an excellent animator. You should take better care of your hands."
After all, Kamiyā Yuu had sparred in the consciousness space with figures like Miyamoto Musashi, Sasaki Kojirō, Kyōshirō Mibu, and Himura Kenshin—and won.
He could certainly accept a little praise.
He didn't reject Busujima Murasaki's kindness.
After all, showing off came with consequences.
When he had forced the heavy wooden sword to stop perfectly, he had already realized the strain it placed on his body.
Although he had employed clever methods to dissipate the force, his untrained arms still couldn't completely handle it.
Of course, he could have simply released the sword and let it fly away.
That would have spared his hands entirely.
But that would have been incredibly embarrassing.
After waiting in his office for a while, Busujima Murasaki soon arrived carrying a bottle of specially prepared medicinal solution.
She rolled up his sleeves, poured some of the liquid into her palm, and gently applied it to his joints.
"If it hurts, please tell me. This concerns whether you'll be able to use your hands normally over the next few days."
Aside from the numbness, however, Kamiyā Yuu felt very little pain.
He knew his limits.
"Thanks. I thought applying medicine involved aggressively kneading the injured area."
He recalled the painful experience of having medicinal wine rubbed onto a sprained ankle in the past.
"It only needs to be applied evenly. However, please avoid overusing your hands for the next hour, and don't wipe off the medicine."
While applying the treatment, Busujima Murasaki unexpectedly made a request.
With her head lowered, Kamiyā Yuu couldn't see her expression.
"President Kamiyā, would you be interested in having a kendo match with me?"
A real-life kendo match?
Kamiyā Yuu agreed without even thinking.
"Of course! Anytime! I'll have Aoi purchase the necessary equipment. We can spar on the rooftop whenever we want for exercise. Sitting in an office all day is more exhausting than running ten kilometers."
After spending all day in an office chair, his body felt as though it were rusting.
A little activity during lunch breaks or whenever he felt tired sounded wonderful.
Besides, he wanted to see how much of the swordsmanship he had learned in the consciousness space could be applied in reality.
Busujima Murasaki's warm, delicate hands began kneading his wrists more firmly.
After hearing his response, she considered it for a moment before smiling gently.
"There's no need to spend money on that. I'll bring the necessary equipment myself. There are quite a few unused sets at home. Leaving them untouched would be a waste."
The medicinal solution seemed to be taking effect.
Warmth seeped into his bones, and Busujima Murasaki's firm kneading felt more like a pleasant massage.
"That works too. In that case, please go easy on me, Miss Murasaki."
Kamiyā Yuu smiled.