Chapter 10: The Mysterious Beauty Swordsman
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 10: The Mysterious Beauty Swordsman
Basketball Club.
"What?! He shattered the backboard with a single dunk!"
Baseball Club.
"His pitching speed is unmeasurable?! No way! Is the machine broken?"
Judo Club.
"Uooooh! It's like fighting a tree trunk!"
Tennis Club.
"He left a ball-shaped crater on the court!"
After touring all the sports clubs offering trials for new students, there weren't many places left to go.
Ichijo Academy is a school for the rich, so it had a surprising number of sports clubs for a liberal arts school, but by the third day, we'd run out of options.
"Yes! Three bingos!"
Kishimoto, who had just crossed off a square on the sports club bingo she'd drawn in the club promotional booklet, let out a cry of joy.
I watched her with a deadpan expression before asking.
"Rika, how many sports clubs are left?"
"Hmm? Hold on a sec."
In the booklet she showed me, the only clubs without an X through them were the track and field club, the swimming club, and the kendo club.
Honestly, at this point, there was no need to continue my dojo-storming tour.
My physical abilities were, by anyone's standards, abnormally strong.
I figured it might be the effect of a gag character buff.
It made sense. In most romantic comedies, the muscular male character is usually the comic relief.
They casually do things that defy common sense, and in some cases, they're practically immortal, surviving being hit by a running car or walking away from a helicopter crash unscathed.
If my body was under the influence of such laws, then my current superhuman physical abilities were understandable.
Thinking it was about time to wrap up the experiment, I decided to knock on the door of the Kendo Club as my last stop.
"He's heeeere!!"
"Kim Yoo-Sung has appeared at the Kendo Club!!"
"Quick, call the kids who went to watch at the swimming and track clubs!"
Somehow, a rumor that I was on a dojo-storming tour seemed to have spread throughout the entire school.
In reality, I was just trying out the clubs, though.
I had expected the place to be fairly empty since I'd come after school, but the Kendo Club's dojo was packed with a surprising number of students.
Just then, a microphone suddenly jutted out from the crowd.
"Mr. Kim Yoo-Sung, how are you feeling right now?!"
"Ah, please direct all interviews through me, his manager."
At this point, Kishimoto was in full-on enjoyment mode.
She was even wearing a pair of black sunglasses she'd gotten from who-knows-where.
While she dealt with the student from the newspaper club on my behalf, I came face-to-face with the Kendo Club captain, who had come to the entrance to greet me.
"So you're the famous Kim Yoo-Sung?"
I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment and replied.
"I don't know about famous, but I am Kim Yoo-Sung."
"I hear you've been trying out all the sports clubs. The rumors are already all over the school."
The Kendo Club captain, Fuma Yukika, with her dark blue hair tied neatly into a ponytail, pointed her bamboo sword at me and spoke.
"But our Kendo Club won't go down so easily."
At her charismatic declaration, the crowd filling the dojo erupted in cheers.
"Kyaa! We love you, Yukika!"
"As expected of one of the academy's three great beauties. She's not even intimidated by that human weapon."
"She's as beautiful as ever today. And so generous."
Ignoring the cringey lines being spouted unfiltered by the crowd, I gave a slight bow to the Kendo Club captain and third-year senior, Fuma Yukika.
"Then please tell me the details of the club trial."
Fuma Yukika tapped the floor with her bamboo sword and said, "A one-point match. The first person to land a valid strike wins. How does that sound? I will be your opponent."
"Sounds good."
This was the last one, anyway.
To be honest, it didn't matter if I won or lost, but I had never thrown a match on purpose.
That would be disrespectful to my opponent.
"Do you need protective gear?"
"I doubt you have any that would fit me, so it's fine."
"Then, for the sake of fairness, I won't wear any either."
"...I won't be responsible if you get hurt."
"I should be the one saying that."
After saying that, Fuma Yukika took a few steps back.
In the meantime, a female kendo club member with short red hair handed me a bamboo sword.
I gripped it lightly and swung it through the air, letting out a menacing swoosh.
I felt like I was finally getting the hang of controlling my strength.
Until now, I'd often tried to use 30% of my power only to end up using 50%, but through my tour of the sports clubs, I had learned to control my own strength.
That's why the amount of property damage had been decreasing.
In the Kendo Club's dojo, with its polished, gleaming floor, she and I stood facing each other.
I, who didn't know how to wield a sword, stood in a natural stance, while Fuma-senpai, a master of the sword, took a middle stance.
"I look forward to our match."
"As do I."
We exchanged a slight nod in place of a formal bow.
The red-haired club member who had given me the bamboo sword stood between me and the senior.
She looked back and forth between our faces, then raised her right hand above her head.
"Both sides! Fight fair and square!"
Immediately after, her hand chopped down.
"Begin!"
*
"Men!"
The moment the match began, Fuma Yukika closed the distance into Kim Yoo-Sung's range.
A surprise attack.
It was a movement as swift as a swallow skimming water, impossible for an ordinary person's eyes to follow.
Clack!
'He blocked it?'
But the junior in front of her had blocked it with ease.
Without panicking, Fuma Yukika took a step back, then began swinging her bamboo sword again with her characteristic rhythm.
Someone as large as Kim Yoo-Sung should normally be slow.
And Fuma Yukika, who had often faced such opponents, was startled by the incredible speed of his reflexes.
'He didn't block it by predicting the move; he saw it coming and then blocked it.'
The basic characteristic of sports-oriented sword arts is that each and every movement is incredibly fast.
Kendo was no exception, and in fencing, an official Olympic sport, competitors exchanged several feints and attacks in a single second.
The fact that he could cover that with pure physical ability meant his dynamic visual acuity was extraordinary.
'But fights aren't won on physical ability alone.'
"Do!"
As she shouted while swinging her sword, Kim Yoo-Sung raised his own to block his torso, then hastily changed its angle.
"Kote!"
This time, she feinted a strike to his wrist while actually aiming for his head.
As she deliberately made her words and actions differ, Kim Yoo-Sung's reactions were half a beat too late.
'His movements are simple, as I thought.'
It was the movement of someone who had never been properly trained.
In other sports, he might have been able to crush his opponents with his overwhelming physique, but it wouldn't work in the world of kendo, where technique and speed are more important than weight class and power.
'Time to end this.'
Using a secret technique with so many people watching was something to be avoided, but it would be fine as long as no one noticed.
She aimed her bamboo sword at Kim Yoo-Sung and calmly steadied her breath.
As a small sign of respect for the junior who had come this far without any technique, she was about to use Evil Instant Slash, one of the Fuma clan's secret techniques.
"...I'll end this with the next attack."
Kim Yoo-Sung, who had been purely on the defensive until now, suddenly spoke as he raised the bamboo sword in his hands to head level.
And with just that,
Fuma Yukika, the promising heir to a clan of ninja, felt the threat of death for the first time in her life.
'I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die.'
The presence of the man named Kim Yoo-Sung, which had felt harmless just a moment ago, had become terrifyingly ferocious.
This man hadn't never learned any techniques.
He'd never had a 'reason' to learn them.
Is the lion, the king of beasts, strong because it trains?
The man named Kim Yoo-Sung was simply born at the top of the food chain.
Only in the moment before her death did Fuma Yukika realize this.
'Grandfather! I'm sorry!'
If only she hadn't stubbornly insisted on coming to Tokyo to revive her fallen clan,
If only she hadn't, out of petty pride, insisted on fighting this man instead of letting the other club members do it,
Could she have avoided death?
Her body instinctively frozen by the fear of death, a feeling she'd never known, Fuma Yukika felt the slowly approaching bamboo sword was like the blade of a guillotine.
Just as her head was about to fall—
Tap.
"Looks like I win."
Her life spared thanks to the sudden deceleration, Fuma Yukika's legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the dojo floor.
"Thank you for the match."
As she watched his back grow coldly distant, Fuma Yukika's hakama was slightly damp.
*
"Aah! After going around to all those sports clubs, you ended up joining the board game club!"
Watching Kishimoto speak as if it were all for nothing, I replied with a look of disbelief.
"You seem to be enjoying it quite a bit yourself, though."
"That's because it's fun!"
"Haha, you two always get along so well. It's your turn to draw a card, Ryusei."
Satoru, who had been a member of the board game club from the start, had joined us, and the three of us were in the middle of a game of Halli Galli. Hearing him, I quietly placed my hand on the deck of cards.
Aah.
I can feel it.
The breath of the cards.
"Draw! Banana card!"
When all was said and done, the board game club was truly my home.