When Swordsmith was sitting by the river to wash his clothes, something heavy struck him, sending him tumbling to the floor.
It sounded like a stone had struck him, but then he heard voices. He dismissed it as his ideas, but his blindness allowed him to distinguish between his ideas and a real voice. The words "I want to die" were heard over his intense listening.
He yelled out, "Who's there?" because he was so scared.
To which the realist responded, "Kill me."
It was the realist's head that he picked up after it had hit his feet. He questioned, "Realist, is that you?"
Kill meeeeeee! Realist Aargh!
Since the realist has lost all sensation in his body, his neurons are continually sending signals of pain, and since his entire body is sending signals of pain, he feels like killing himself.
Swordsmith picked the realist's head up, which is basically the realist as a whole, and brought it into his factory, which is also his home. He can't stop wailing in agony. He calms him down by giving him Anastasia. Being without his physical form is nothing new for him. He also gets his head chopped off by Amane, but he quickly puts it back on.
The swordsmith became aware of his neck's regeneration while realists are unconscious or sedated.
His body doesn't regenerate in the same way that Deadpool's does. For instance, in Deadpool's case, when his hand was severed, it grew back into a tiny baby hand. In Realist's body, regeneration happens directly from the top down; his neck, shoulders, body, and finally feet would all return to their original forms.
When compared to severe injuries, such as amputation, the healing time of a small wound is far shorter.
Within twenty-four hours, his shoulder, and chest had fully healed. However, upon awakening, he begins to scream uncontrollably, prompting the swordsmith to administer Anastasia—but unfortunately, they are currently out of stock. The swordsmith had instructed his son to visit the nearby pharmacy to purchase more anesthesia, but just as he was about to depart, someone knocked on the door.
"Who's there?" Swordsmith said.
Then Ronin spoke up: "It's me, blindman."
Under his feet, the earth slipped away, and above his head, the sky parted ways.
The swordsman dashed to the room where the realist was writhing in agony.
As firmly as he could, he instructed his son to stuff a cloth into Realist's mouth.
"Come on, dude, can't you see?" Ronin beckoned.
"I am blind, don't you remember?" the swordsmith said as he opened the door.
"Cool to see you, blind man," Ronin remarked.
Upon entering the house, Ronin takes a seat on a chair and presents the swordsmith with a pair of swords, asking, "Do you know these swords?"
"I made these," the swordsman declared.
Ronin asked, "Could you tell me who you made them for?"
"For the realist, he gave me $100,000 for each sword. That's like 15,000 yen," the swordsmith explained.
"Are you saying I can keep these thirty million yen?" Ronin asked.
"Ask the realist; these are not mine anymore," the swordsmith said.
Ronin remarked, "Well, he might no longer require them."
You murdered him? The swordsmith asked.
"Well, I shouldn't lie, so I'd say yes," Ronin said.
"How?" Swordsmith asked.
"Why are you posing so many questions?" Ronin asked.
"Tell me how?" the swordsman asked.
"I severed his head from his body, and now his body is decaying; are you happy about that?" Ronin asked.
"So he's dead," Swordsmith said.
Ronin stated, "Obviously, he has passed away."
"What about his head?" Swordsmith asked. "Did you notice that it was rotting?"
"No, it fell into the river," Ronin said.
Swordsmith gives him a copy of the newspaper that details realist powers.
The stereotype becomes more accurate as the ronin's face turns yellower than the color yellow.
Leaving the factory silently, Ronin dashes away.
The swordsman did this because the Ronin spends days at his factory when he visits.
The next morning….
Finally, the realist awakens; he is no longer in excruciating pain, and all parts of his body have rejuvenated except for his feet.
I must rescue Misa, he said.
Swordsmith advised, "You need to eat something; your brain regenerates your body as much as it can." Without food, it would be impossible to walk, he advised. You should eat now.
He then expressed his profound gratitude for the assistance, saying, "I don't have the money right now, but I am deeply thankful for your help" after refueling his body.
"I gave you information last time because you didn't offer me money," Swordsmith said.
"So what should I do?" the realist asked skeptically. "You are not a woman for me to say you look cute."
"Just say thank you for saving my life," the swordsmith said..
"I did say that," the realist reflected.
"No, you didn't say that, and you offered me money before you even said thank you," Swordsmith retorted.
"Okay, I'm grateful that you spared my life," the realist offered.
"Now it's ok," the swordsman remarked.
"I can train you," the swordsman said to the realist as he was getting ready to leave.
"What?" the realist asked.
"I can teach you how to wield a sword," the swordsmith said.
"You can't even see," the realist said.
I said I can show you how to fight, not how to see, said Swordsmith.
The realist responded, "I appreciate it, but I'm running out of time."
In response, the swordsman asked, "What are the odds of it happening like that again?"
The realist took the offer with a sigh.
"Swordsmith" is well-versed in the art of swordsmanship. The realist stumbles upon an old newspaper article depicting a man who, all by himself, slaughters fifty men.
"You murdered fifty men in a single night," a realist said.
"Once I was young too," the swordsman remarked.
"So what happened?" the realist asked./
"What do you mean? I got old; that's what happened," Swordsmith said.
"I mean, what happened to your eyes?" the realist said.
"Someone beat me," the swordsman said.
"How can an old blind man teach me anything when he has lost to someone else?" a realist asked.
"You are not fighting that someone," Swordsmith said.
For one month, Realist learned fighting techniques from him.
"I shared all the knowledge I have with you; now it's up to you and your background. What I shared was just a condensed version of extensive research that people put in years to become proficient with swordsmanship, but you don't have that luxury."
Realist thanks the swordsmith.
The realists depart from the plant searching for a man known as the clown.
Nearly everyone he spoke to had no idea who the clown was, or at least wasn't willing to tell him anything.
After hours of aimless wandering, Realist found himself seated in a corner. Just then, an inebriated man approached him, telling him he was in the wrong city if he wanted to find the clown.
"Which city?" the realist asked.
The drunk man said, "Nagasakiiiiiiiiiiii, when you spot him, it's a sign that you're about to die.
"Thanks," the realist replied.
"Rest in peace, you rest in peace, you rest in peace, you hahaha," the drunk man dances and says.
To find out who the clown was, he traveled to Nagasaki and approached locals there. People would begin to flee from him, but then a man claims to know him and tells him, "Follow me." Through a narrow alley, they came upon a group of ten men brandishing swords and machetes.
"You did something horrible, buddy, by asking for the clown," Man 1 said.
"You have to die here," Man 2 said.
Man 1 strikes him and stabs him in the abdomen.
The realist said, "You motherf*ckers don't know who I am," while wearing his helmet coolly.
He splits him in two with a sideways cut.
When the second man attacked him with a machete, he slashed off his hand with one of his swords and thrust the other sword up under his jaw, driving it through his head. All the men froze and retreated a few steps.
As the other eight men stood there in disbelief, seven of them noticed that their stomachs were already bleeding.
When the realists stab seven of them in the heart, they all fall to the ground because their feet are unable to support their weight.
The last one tries to flee by throwing his machete at the realist, but that's not going to happen.
The realist reached for his gun and shot him in the ankle. Even after he hits the floor, he continues to crawl as he tries to get away.
"I will only ask this once," the realist said, grabbing him.
"I don't know" was the response from the last one.
"Are you sure?" Realist asked as he lowered his sword to his neck.
"If I told you he will kill me," the remaining person said.
The realist seizes his hand and starts to skin him while he's still alive.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhaaahhhh, ok, ok," he screams in pain..
"Where?" the realist asked questioningly.
"He owns a building close to the Chinese hotel," the last one remarked.
The realist responded with a simple "Excellent, thank you."
Realist shot him in the face
"Now you guys are thinking, like, 'Oh no, he is not a hero; he is the villain, bro.' He is a bad guy, oh my god. I literally told him I was going to ask him once, but he made me ask him three times bro now don'd dell whad do do ok broooo I am nod a bad guy, sir, okay, bro"?
On his way to the building next to the Chinese hotel, the realist climbs the outside. He noticed Misa mingling and laughing with what appeared to be a large family.
"What the fucking plot twist is this?"