Yasoke found himself in a village ravaged by flames, surrounded by rubble and torn bodies lying on the ground. His hands were stained with blood, and a deep wound gapped in his chest, one that seemed to refuse to close. As he stared at his own palms, his eyes widened and his pupils flickered with an involuntary tremor as terror took over his body. In the distance, he glimpsed the figure of a samurai laughing, sitting atop a pile of corpses, drinking blood directly from a skull. The warrior glared at Yasoke with a demonic expression.
"You've grown, haven't you, little man!" he exclaimed, resuming his consumption of the scarlet liquid before standing up and unsheathing his katana. The blade had a pinkish hue that intensified upon contact with blood.
"But... who are you, anyway?" Yasoke asked, seized by despair before that silhouette wrapped in red shadows. With a psychotic smile, the figure replied in a distorted voice:
"Stgfwt xbtwijqjx Pthmt t rjqmtw xfrzwfn ij ytitx tx yjrutx!"
In a brief 5 seconds, the shadow began a frantic movement from one side to the other. Crimson shadows began to circle Yasoke, who, paralyzed by fear, remained motionless.
"I'm impressed by how we are talking in this dream; you have a strong mental spirit!" After uttering these words, the samurai moved with such formidable speed that Yasoke's only perception was that of his own vision dropping abruptly toward his feet; he had been decapitated.
BOOM! A colossal crash echoed, causing Yasoke to wake up with a start. Bringing his hands to his neck, still trembling, he stood up and looked out the window. In the garden, there was a massive crater, in front of which two thugs were kneeling before Yuji.
"So, I know you wanted to rob my house, but there's nothing left to rob!" Yuji was saying, trying to convince himself that the supposed beauty of his residence justified the break-in.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Yuji, we'll never do it again!" one of the criminals implored in tears, while his accomplice tried a stealthy escape.
"Stay right there, I see you trying to run," Yuji warned. The criminal ignored the warning and took off running, but Yuji struck the ground with such force that the crater expanded. The fugitive lost his balance and plummeted into the pit, promptly caught by the collar of his clothes by Yuji, who noticed Yasoke's presence.
"You're awake, Yasoke! Come on out, your training is about to begin!" The thugs burst into tears, but Yuji, with an energetic gesture, forced them into silence. Yasoke left the house through the chimney, landing on the ground with an agile leap.
"Now, you thieves, fill this hole!" Yuji ordered, staring at them severely.
"But there's no dirt to fill it with, Mr. Yuji!" Upon hearing the objection, Yuji abandoned the men in the crater and suddenly disappeared.
The individuals remained confined in the pit, which was approximately ten meters deep, asking Yasoke if he wouldn't help them. Yasoke, however, only shook his head no. While the thugs tried to persuade him, Yuji returned wheeling a wheelbarrow.
"Now, you burglars!" He approached, rescued the men by their shirt collars, jumping back to the surface, and handed them a shovel. "You are going to take the dirt from this wheelbarrow with the shovel until you fill the hole!"
Yuji had a smile on his face when one of the men questioned: "But there isn't enough dirt to cover this huge hole!"
"This wheelbarrow isn't a normal wheelbarrow; it has enough dirt to fill this hole. This type of tool is custom-made and expensive, so you're going to fill this hole or else!" Yuji cracked his knuckles. Understanding the implicit threat, the detainees began throwing dirt into the cavity.
"Now Yasoke, let's start your training. Look at those scarecrows—you're going to punch them!" Yasoke obeyed without question. Upon delivering a punch against the target, a dry crack was heard. He observed his own fist with perplexity.
"Mr. Yuji... I think I broke my hand," he commented with a blank expression. Yuji smiled.
"Yeah, you definitely broke it!" Dissatisfied, Yasoke puffed out his cheeks, resembling an angry hamster.
"That was to prove that from today on, the training is going to be hellish," Yuji explained.
"But why didn't you warn me the scarecrow was so hard!" the youth complained. Yuji placed his hand on Yasoke's head and, with a soft voice, pondered:
"To show you that the things we have here work better with Macogo!" Yuji held his pupil's head and continued: "And we are going to develop that!"
"But did you have to make me break my hand?" Yasoke insisted. Yuji released him and ordered him to run ten laps around the residence. Before starting, he handed him a new garment. "Take off that white tank top and put on this new one!"
Upon putting it on, Yasoke noticed no change and, convinced the task would be trivial, started running.
"Geez Yuji, you're mean!" one of the thugs exclaimed while working. Yuji just smiled, watching the boy's progress.
Yasoke completed the first lap without difficulty. However, upon starting the second, he noticed a slight increase in the weight of the piece, which he attributed to sweat. On the third lap, the weight doubled, causing some discomfort. Starting the fourth stage, the weight tripled; the tank top had become burdensome, requiring Herculean physical effort. Yasoke finished the lap exhausted. On the fifth lap, the weight quadrupled, forcing him to collapse to the ground.
"What the hell is this!" he exclaimed. He began to crawl painfully across the property. Yuji and the thugs watched the scene while enjoying tea and cookies during a short break from work.
At the end of the fifth lap, the weight quintupled as the sixth began. Unable to move, Yasoke remained prostrated, waiting for his strength to recover. He felt deep indignation confronting his own insufficiency against that load.
At sunset, the thugs finished the task, but they remained on-site, curious about the youth's situation under the mysterious white tank top.