Chapter 222: Secret Art (Hiōgi)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 222: Secret Art (Hiōgi)
I was worried about Rika, who had suddenly learned about the underworld, but there was nothing more I could do for her. After we parted ways at the subway station, I returned home.
It was already 8 p.m., but the lights on the first floor were on, meaning the restaurant was still open. Instead of heading straight upstairs, I opened the restaurant door and went inside.
"I'm home."
My mother, who was in the middle of clearing dishes from a table, looked over and asked.
"Son~ have you eaten dinner?"
"Not yet."
"Then go on up, wash up, and come back down. I'll whip something up for you."
Instead of just nodding at Ms. Lee Mi-ja's words, I set my bag down to one side and started helping clear the tables.
"Oh my, look at you. Mom can handle this alone."
"It's faster if we do it together, so why not?"
With that, I gathered all the collected bowls and utensils onto a tray.
Unlike other restaurants, we used metal spoons and chopsticks, so the tray was quite heavy. Still, I hoisted it with one hand and carried it into the kitchen.
My eyes met my father's as he was rummaging through the refrigerator. I gave him a slight nod in greeting, then dumped the dishes in my hands into the sink.
"You should go take a break, Dad," I said. "There won't be many more customers at this hour."
"It's fine. We still have an hour until closing."
In a way, that statement contained my father's entire business philosophy, so I didn't press the matter.
I pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, squirted some dish soap onto a sponge, and began scrubbing away the grease.
It was a task I had been doing for nearly three years since possessing Kim Yoo-Sung's body, so the mountain of dishes in front of me disappeared in no time.
"Yoo-Sung, that's enough. Mom will take care of the rest."
My mother, who had brought in the remaining dishes, said this with an apologetic look, but I told her it was fine and stubbornly continued washing.
About twenty minutes into my battle with the dishes, I had finished.
After placing all the clean dishes on the shelves, I took off the rubber gloves and stepped out of the kitchen.
No new customers had arrived in the meantime; the restaurant was quiet.
"Go on, have a seat. Mom will make you something delicious right away."
Unable to refuse Ms. Lee Mi-ja's insistence, I sat down at a corner table and pulled my smartphone out of my pocket.
Messenger notifications had piled up.
Most were from Rika and the members of our group chat.
Rika, having just learned about the underworld today, seemed to have a lot of questions, and she had messaged me about all sorts of things.
Even though we had been messaging the entire way home, it seemed she still had more she was curious about.
A faint, bitter smile touched my lips. Just as I was about to move my fingers to reply to her, I heard the door open and reflexively shot up from my seat.
"Welco…me?"
My greeting ended in a question because this was no ordinary customer.
"We meet again, boy."
"How did you get here?!"
"I applied a special scent to your body to make you easier to track later."
Fuma Kotaro tapped his nose as he spoke, then looked around the restaurant and grinned.
"I was just getting hungry. Good thing this is a restaurant. What's the most delicious thing on the menu?"
*
The Hojo Godaiki, written by Miura Joshin, a vassal of the Hojo clan during the Sengoku period, contains a detailed description of the 5th Fuma Kotaro's appearance.
「His height was a staggering7cheok2chon(2 meters 16cm), with a massive frame covered in lumps.His eyes were slanted upwards, his mouth was torn wide to exposefourmolars, his eyelids opened backwards, he had a black beard, his head resembled that of a Bokroksoo,and his nose washigh.」
This was a description of a monster, not a man, so later generations naturally assumed it was an exaggeration.
But looking at the man sitting before me, it seemed it wasn't a complete lie.
"Umai!"
The 17th Fuma Kotaro exclaimed in delight between bites, ravenously devouring the meal set before him.
His wild hair was like a lion's mane, and with his distinct features, thick eyebrows, and high nose, he almost looked Western.
But what was most overwhelming was his height, which easily surpassed two meters.
At 190cm and still growing, I'm not considered short by any means, but the man in front of me was so tall that most basketball players couldn't hold a candle to him.
On top of that, his body, trained to the extreme on a level similar to Russia's God of Destruction, Ivan, was so defined that its form was visible even through his loose-fitting hakama.
My mother, bustling in and out of the kitchen with food, momentarily stared, mesmerized by his rippling arm muscles.
"Hey, what do you think you're looking at!"
Of course, she was promptly scolded by my surprisingly jealous father.
Fuma Kotaro, lost in his meal, must have noticed my gaze. He swallowed the food in his mouth and asked.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Oh, no reason. I was just thinking that bloodline is no joke."
Fuma-senpai was always broke because of the high cost of living in Tokyo, but she always looked incredibly happy when she was eating.
And when it came to enjoying a meal, her father, Fuma Kotaro, seemed to be her equal.
Even though it was food I ate all the time, it somehow looked more delicious when he was the one eating it.
This father-daughter duo… they might actually make it big in the mukbang world.
"Hmph. Don't be ridiculous."
Fuma Kotaro scoffed, but despite his dismissive tone, he seemed to be in a better mood as he began to eat with even more gusto.
After devouring a meal equivalent to about five servings in one sitting, he let out a loud burp and asked.
"So, aren't you curious why I suddenly showed up?"
"Will you tell me if I ask?"
"Of course."
He answered with a toothpick in his mouth, which didn't make him seem very sincere, but I asked anyway, half-doubting him.
"Why did you come looking for me?"
"Because I've acknowledged you as my successor. I'm here to pass on the final secret art of Hayate."
"…The final secret art?"
The question escaped my lips before I could stop it.
It was only natural. The book I saw in the Fuma clan's village only mentioned seven techniques.
When I pointed this out, Fuma Kotaro chuckled.
"It's only natural you don't know. The final secret art of Hayate is something I created myself."
"…Excuse me?"
Wondering what kind of nonsense this was, I stared at Fuma Kotaro in disbelief, but his expression was utterly shameless.
"Seeing is believing, as they say. You'll understand once you experience it for yourself."
Why it's called the final secret art.
*
After eating the dinner my mother had prepared, I told her I was going for a light jog to help with digestion and left the house.
In a normal household, a high school student going out late at night would be seen as strange, but for me, this was routine, so I got away with it.
In any case, after lying to my parents, I headed to a park near the residential area.
The man was standing there silently in a deserted spot, as it was late.
"You're finally here."
Fuma Kotaro slowly opened his closed eyes and stared at me.
"So, are you going to show me this final secret art of Hayate now?"
Fuma Kotaro readily nodded at my question.
"Of course, that's the plan. But before that, I want to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"How much do you know about Hayate?"
It was a rather random question.
But assuming he was asking for a reason, I told him what I knew.
"I heard it's an assassination art passed down to a single successor in the Fuma clan for generations. And that it's a martial art that mimics the natural phenomenon of wind."
"So you've only scratched the surface."
"That's all the information I was given."
Hearing my answer, Fuma Kotaro smirked.
"Are you aware that the Fuma clan originally used the name Kazama?"
"Yes, I know that much."
"The name, which was originally Kazama Kotaro, began to be called Fuma Kotaro starting with the third head of the clan."
It was also his achievement that elevated Kazama, which was just another ninja village, to the top tier in an instant.
"The 3rd Fuma Kotaro, who was called a genius of the ages, created two martial arts that mimicked natural phenomena. Those are the assassination art Hayate (Gale) and the assassination sword Jinrai (Swift Thunder)."
The roots of both martial arts are fundamentally the same.
They are styles born from the hands of a single person.
In other words, if you master one, the other automatically follows.
"If I were to put a sword in your hand right now, you would be able to wield Jinrai, albeit imperfectly. Conversely, if my daughter Yukika were to abandon her sword, she would be able to use Hayate, though incompletely."
"Why are you telling me this now?"
Fuma Kotaro shrugged.
"Because this is the starting point for why I created a new technique."
While I was racking my brain for a way to defeat Ivan, who was an absolute powerhouse in GOF, I came up with one method.
It was to merge the two martial arts that had been passed down through the Fuma clan for generations.
That attempt failed spectacularly, but it left me with a single technique.
"That is the technique I am about to pass on to you now. The final secret art of Hayate: Nagi."
"Nagi?"
As I unconsciously repeated the name he spoke, Fuma Kotaro beckoned to me with his palm.
"From this moment on, come at me with the intent to kill."