Sato Kojiro opened his mouth, as if he did not expect that such an attractive recruitment method had no effect on a wandering ronin. In this era, no man in his prime who speaks elegantly, has good etiquette and possesses martial arts would not want to follow a powerful man.
To become a samurai with a salary and status? Which of those ronin who are as destitute as dogs does not survive by robbing homes or accepting employment?
Sato Kojiro took a deep breath and said: "Forget it, everyone has their own ambitions, let's go." After that, he tilted his head to the side as if he was angry. Seeing this, Sorayama Kazuha smiled bitterly, leaned forward and said: "Goodbye Sato
Your Excellency." He turned around and motioned for the two of them to follow him, and walked forward.
The two farmers behind Kazuyo Sorayama turned sideways and saluted Sato Kojiro. Just as they were about to take a step, they saw Sato Kojiro's bent legs bounce up instantly like a toad. "Drink!" He shouted loudly and at the same time drew his knife and raised his hands diagonally.
A large cassock slash struck Kazuyo Kazuyo in front of him. With the speed of this sword, if the chop was real, Kazuyo Kazuyo's body would be split into two pieces from his right neck to his left arm.
As a distinguished samurai, Sato Kojiro rarely attacks from behind, but he is confident that the ronin in front of him will never be able to escape unscathed. He will have to pay at least one arm or a wound diagonally across his back to avoid death. Even so,
, it’s just one more knife.
Rikichi and Ping stared dumbfoundedly at Sato Kojiro's swing of the sword. Their brains were at a standstill and seemed unable to react. They could only watch helplessly as the ronin in front of them was about to be cut into two pieces. At this moment, the two of them couldn't help but think, "Fortunately."
The absurd idea that you are not born a samurai.
Ichiyo Sorayama's right foot slid backwards in a semicircle, and his right hand took out the knife as if it had disappeared. He turned around and lifted it diagonally upwards. The tip of the knife drew a graceful arc like a crescent moon and passed across Sato Kojiro's body. The blade of the knife was held steady.
The silence seems to have always been here, and only the blood drops sliding on the blade prove how cruel this beautiful art is.
Before Sato Kojiro dropped the knife he held high, he found that blood was oozing out from a neat incision from his right abdomen to his left chest. He could even clearly feel that the opponent's knife cut first cut through his belly, scratched his intestines, and rubbed against his sternum.
The profound touch left his body. He fell to his knees and covered the wound with both hands in vain, hoping that the blood gushing out and the loss of internal organs would be slower.
"Why?! Unless you are a sword master, you can't react so fast!" Sato Kojiro asked breathlessly. He resisted the dizziness that made his soul want to fly out of his body, just to get an answer. Sorayama Kazuyo flicked his wrist
Shake off the blood on the knife, draw a circle with the blade in your right hand, slowly insert it into the sheath with your backhand, and sigh, "Of course I can't achieve that kind of reaction and speed, but the sound of your deep breath is too loud!"
From your sitting position, if you want to kill with one blow in the shortest time, you must strike from the top. But you are on my right and behind, and the sword is going to the right, so it is most certain to strike the left with the right. And I am making the most confident move.
Under pre-judgment, if you draw the knife faster, you can wait for you to hit me."
Kazuyo Sorayama stared into Sato Kojiro's eyes and asked solemnly: "Why are you so decisive in using your sword and insisting on killing me? I ask myself that you are polite and have no offense at all. Why?"
Sato Kojiro gasped and opened his mouth: "Since you came from the direction of the battlefield, you speak elegantly, and you blurt out Chinese poems reciting Chinese poems, like a minister from Kyoto. And you so firmly refuse my solicitation, you must not be an ordinary ronin! You must be the enemy's
A certain adult got separated from the troops and deliberately found two untouchables to cover his way back to the territory." Sato Kojiro swallowed the blood in his mouth with difficulty in order to speak clearly, "Your head can erase my reputation as a samurai.
If you commit a crime, you can even get greater merit! At this point, although I no longer have the shame to call myself a samurai, I still want you to excuse me and let me die with dignity as a samurai, please!"
Sorayama Kazuyo twitched his lips: So this is the so-called misunderstanding of the times? Sato Kojiro pointed to the tachi on the ground and said to Sorayama Kazuyo: "This is the Sato family's heirloom sword Bizen Nagasaki Captain Hikari, given to you.
With your skill and status, you will not be humiliated."