Nobu sat quietly at the wooden table, his fingers lightly resting against the surface.
But his mind… was elsewhere.
Last night replayed again and again in his head.
Malvek's eyes.
His dream.
His outstretched hand.
"Join me."
And Nobu… had accepted.
"…I'll destroy it," Nobu thought silently.
"…even if I have to build it first."
A faint shadow passed through his eyes.
"Good morning!"
Malvek's cheerful voice broke the silence.
Nobu looked up.
Malvek and his little sister Hana walked in, carrying simple plates of food.
"Sorry, it's the same as yesterday," Malvek said with a sheepish smile. "We don't have much."
Nobu shook his head.
"It's enough."
Hana smiled brightly as she placed the food down.
For a moment…
It felt like a normal morning.
Like none of this was a lie.
After breakfast, Nobu and Malvek stepped outside.
The air was cool, carrying the distant noise of the city.
Malvek looked unusually serious.
"…There's someone we need," he said.
Nobu glanced at him.
"Who?"
"Misashi."
Nobu frowned slightly.
"I've never heard that name."
Malvek exhaled slowly.
"He's an ancient swordsman… a legend."
"They say no one has ever defeated him in a fair fight."
Nobu's eyes sharpened.
"…Then why isn't he ruling the world?"
Malvek's expression darkened.
"Because he's a prisoner."
The streets grew quieter as they walked.
"The Hiroshima Clan captured him," Malvek continued. "They've been using his skills for their own power."
Nobu's gaze turned cold.
"…And now?"
Malvek gave a small, bitter smile.
"They announced a tournament."
"The winner… gets Misashi."
Nobu stopped walking.
"…They're selling him?"
Malvek nodded.
"I don't know why. But this is our chance."
"If we want to build something strong… we need him."
Nobu thought for a moment.
"…Then we win."
The arena was massive.
Stone walls towered over the crowd, enclosing a sea of voices, cheers, and excitement.
Fighters from all over had gathered.
Some confident.
Some nervous.
Some… clearly dangerous.
Nobu's eyes scanned everything.
Every movement.
Every face.
Every detail.
Nothing escaped him.
At the registration desk, Malvek stepped forward.
"I'll fight," he said.
But Nobu stopped him.
"…No."
Malvek turned, confused.
"What?"
"If you fight…" Nobu said calmly, "we lose."
Malvek clenched his fists.
"…You don't trust me?"
Nobu met his gaze.
"This isn't about trust."
"It's about reality."
Silence.
Then—
"…Fine," Malvek said quietly.
"You fight."
Time passed.
The fighters gathered inside a large waiting area.
Above them, seated in high positions, were members of the Hiroshima Clan.
Watching.
Judging.
Controlling.
Nobu's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…So they're the ones behind this."
"Hey."
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
Nobu turned.
A girl stood in front of him, her sword resting on her shoulder.
She looked confident.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
"This place isn't for old men," she said with a smirk.
Nobu stared at her for a moment.
Then spoke calmly—
"…And it's not for weak children either."
Her smile disappeared.
"What did you say?"
Nobu's eyes turned cold.
"Go home."
"And drink your mother's milk."
Her sword was at his throat in an instant.
"You want to die?"
Before things escalated—
"STOP!"
A guard stepped in.
"No fighting outside the arena!"
The tension broke.
The girl clicked her tongue and walked away.
"…You're dead when we meet," she muttered.
Nobu said nothing.
The tournament began.
Fight after fight.
Steel clashed.
Bodies fell.
Crowds roared.
And one name kept rising—
The Hiroshima heir.
He was skilled.
Very skilled.
But something felt off.
Every opponent he faced…
Lost.
Too easily.
Too suddenly.
Nobu watched carefully.
Observing.
Analyzing.
Waiting.
Finally—
The remaining fighters were decided.
Three left.
Nobu.
The Hiroshima heir.
And…
That girl.
The second-to-last match began.
The girl stepped forward confidently.
Her eyes burned with determination.
"I won't lose," she said.
The heir said nothing.
The fight started.
She attacked first—
Fast.
Sharp.
Precise.
But—
Clan.
Blocked.
The heir countered instantly.
A clean strike.
She barely dodged.
She attacked again.
But this time—
Something was wrong.
Her movements slowed.
Her strikes weakened.
"…What?" she whispered.
They clashed again.
Blades locked.
Close.
Too close.
Then—
The heir inhaled slightly.
A faint motion.
Barely noticeable.
But Nobu saw it.
A thin mist.
Invisible to most.
Flowing from the heir's blade.
The girl's eyes widened.
Her body froze.
Then—
She collapsed.
The crowd went silent for a second.
Then erupted.
"WINNER!"
But Nobu didn't react.
His eyes were fixed on the heir.
"…Poison."
Everything made sense now.
Why the tournament was happening.
Why the heir kept winning.
Why Misashi was being "given away."
This wasn't a fair tournament.
It was controlled.
Planned.
Rigged.
"…Clever," Nobu muttered.
"But not enough."
"FINAL MATCH!"
The announcer's voice echoed.
"NOBU VS HIROSHIMA HEIR!"
Nobu stepped forward.
The arena fell silent.
All eyes on him.
Malvek stood in the crowd, watching nervously.
"…Win," he whispered.
Nobu entered the arena.
Calm.
Unshaken.
The heir smiled slightly.
"You figured it out, didn't you?"
Nobu said nothing.
The heir raised his blade.
"But it won't matter."
Nobu slowly raised his own.
His eyes… sharp.
Cold.
Focused.
"…I know exactly how to beat you."
The wind shifted.
The crowd held its breath.
And for the first time—
A faint smile appeared on Nobu's face.