[Dream's Perspective]

  Finally, I have emerged from that freezing hell.

  The sensation of warm air touching my stone skin felt like a kiss forgotten by time, as if for the first time in forever, I felt life pulsing through my limbs. Beyond "Mount Ryu" lay rolling plains—an endless sea of flowers that had not known the meaning of death for thousands of years.

  Their colors fluctuated between crimson, purple, and gold, forming a living rainbow dancing with the breeze, in stark contrast to the grayness inhabiting my soul. I walked among them, my mind quiet—no thoughts, no voices, only the rustle of grass and the sound of the wind caressing the blooms.

  Then, the voice of the chip (404) interrupted me, cold and logical as ever: < Before we enter any village or city, you must change your form. Suggested appearance: Ronin (wandering samurai). >

  I said in a low voice: "I know."

  Previously, I hadn't just been training to increase my strength, but also the "Shape Cutting" technique of the fifth level (Soul Symbol). It is a technique that modifies my form and every minute detail of my body, making people see me as a completely different person. This technique was originally intended for Mana soul-gate users, but since I’ve started using raw "Echo of Creation," this barrier has been breached.

  I looked at the ground, at the flowers shimmering with rainbow colors, then closed my eyes and began to change my form. It wasn't smooth like water. I heard muffled cracking sounds, like rocks grinding against each other deep within me.

  I felt my stone masses compress, shape, and twist to fit the new mold. It wasn't pain, but a disturbing sensation of rearranging existence. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer the stone monster; I was a Ronin in tattered clothes with a massive sword at his waist.

  I continued my journey through these plains filled with beauty. After walking for a long time—I lost track of how long—I reached the end of the plains. There was a beautiful, long blue river crossed by an old wooden bridge. I crossed it feeling strange; I felt a pressing, illogical urge to stay in this beautiful plain forever.

  I smiled and whispered to myself: "Next time I’ll come here with Clara. She would love this place intensely. Come on, I must move faster than this."

  I met some people on my way, pretending to be lost to ask them: "Which way is the capital, Edo?" I was riding a strong black horse. Suddenly, while on its back, I asked myself: Where did I get this horse?

  I didn't remember buying it. I didn't remember stealing it. I asked (404): "Where is this from?" He replied coldly: < Three merchants blocked our path two days ago. You decapitated them and took the horse. >

  My hand froze on the reins. Me? I killed merchants? I don't remember a thing... was it a fight? Or a massacre? < Data unavailable in your conscious memory. You were in a state of 'Trance'. >

  I shook the thought from my head. What matters is that we are advancing.

  Finally, it appeared on the horizon. The Capital. And it was everything they said... beautiful. It overlooked the ocean, and atop it stood "Edo Castle," the Shogun's castle. A giant, majestic fortress looking out at the vast ocean like a master watching over his property.

  Before that castle were beautiful houses and endless shops pulsating with life, people walking, cherry trees in vivid pink, while outside the capital, rolling wheat fields blended with flowers everywhere.

  I walked through the capital, and Samurai were everywhere around me. Their armor bore symbols of different families, but the most common crest was that of the "Tokugawa" family—the Shogun’s family: three white flower buds.

  But more important than the Shogun is... Where is Morito? He told me to meet him when I reached the capital. Did he just forget me? Perhaps he thinks I'm dead. That bastard—when I go to him, he might just carry me and throw me back to the mountain! But... he is the only one who knows Clara’s location.

  What do I do? I looked to the chip, which answered me immediately: < Meeting him now will only damage the mission. The most logical option is to attempt to become a Samurai. >

  I looked at the sky and wondered; usually at a time like this, "Hong Min" would give me the answer I wanted. I replied to 404 sternly: "I will look for Morito. It’s impossible for me to put Clara in any danger. If he knew I abandoned him, he might kill Clara." < The probability of him doing this is 15%. > A low probability, but I won't gamble.

  Curse this bastard—at least tell me where to meet you! Where could he be? Surely in a tavern. Yes, even if he isn't there, I can ask the bartender.

  I entered the first tavern I saw. The moment I opened the door, a wave of noise and smells hit me. The smell of stale sweat, fried fish, and cheap sake was suffocating. It was packed to the point of bursting. Loud laughter, shouting, and the clinking of glasses. My sensitive ears were on the verge of exploding, and I couldn't even walk—and night hadn't even fallen yet!

  A woman came and said loudly to be heard: "I apologize, Okyaku-sama, but the place is full." I shouted back: "I want to ask, do you know where Morito is? Ryu, a Samurai here..." She gave me a strange look—is Morito’s name forbidden?—then said, knitting her brows: "What? I didn't hear you, Okyaku-sama, repeat your question." I asked her again, and she said again, louder: "What?" Damn it, I'll go to another tavern.

  I went to another tavern, and the same thing happened! The same crowding, the same suffocating smells, the same noise. I couldn't even ask them comfortably without drawing attention. After a long search for an empty tavern, I finally found one. It was on the outskirts of Edo, dilapidated, its wood corroded, its lantern broken... but it was empty! What matters is that it's empty. I can't believe I'm happy to see a ramshackle tavern.

  I entered, and the silence inside was as refreshing as a cool breeze. There was an old man sitting, slowly cleaning glasses. I looked to the side, and for some reason, I felt certain he would be here. Morito was there. Drunk. His head on the table, surrounded by empty sake bottles like dead guards.

  I went to him and said: "You bastard, wake up." No response. I shouted: "Wake up, you worthless bastard!" This man... I hate him intensely. Is it just because of the incident where he left me in the middle of the mountain? For some reason, I don't think I hate him this much just because of that.

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  The old man looked at me with withered eyes and said in a raspy voice: "He won't wake up even if you piss on him." He paused for a moment, then added: "Would you like a cup of sake on the house? Since you're the first Okyaku besides this wretch in a long time."

  Perhaps I can extract some information about Morito from him. The most logical choice is to accept. I said: "Sure." I sat before the old man, who poured me a cup of sake. The cup was worn, and the sake looked like murky water, but I don't care about such things. I drank the sake, and the old man asked me: "What is your relationship with Morito?"

  I gave an artificial smile and said: "I am that bastard's disciple." The old man stopped wiping and looked at me in shock: "Disciple? I can't believe he took someone as a disciple." I replied as I drank the water he called sake: "He's a bastard—who would want to be his disciple? Nothing more, nothing less, I am a talented orphan, and he wants someone to handle his problems for him. That’s how I became his disciple."

  I must craft a story about how I became Morito’s disciple and who I am, in order to rise through the ranks and become a Samurai. All for the mission. The old man smiled and said with regret: "It seems that old man developed some feelings with age.

  And it seems I was rude to my first guest and gave him water instead of sake. Forgive me." He took a dusty bottle from under the counter and poured for me, saying: "Drink the most delicious sake you will ever taste in your life

  ." I drank it, and it truly was the most delicious sake my mouth had ever tasted—a mouth I usually only need for talking. Though it doesn't affect me or make me drunk, it comforted me just by its texture. I wonder... after I have emotions, will the taste of this sake change? For some reason... I didn't want that.

  [Kage's Perspective]

  I truly don't understand what is happening. This is my first day in this strange place, and everything here screams with a contradiction that makes me nauseous. I am currently standing on a giant tree branch near the village, picking strange purple fruits with a glossy skin like gemstones, following the signal of the warrior fox.

  The smell of the forest here is not like the putrid "Shadow Swamp." It is a scent so dense it's suffocating... the smell of tree resin, heavy flower nectar, and an excessive amount of "life." I don't know how to speak with them; their language consists of soft barks and rapid syllables like the rustle of dry leaves. And they don't talk to me either; we make do with primitive signals.

  They make me work, but I am not bound. No chains, no guards, no walls. Am I a prisoner? Could I leave if I wanted?

  After we finished picking and returned to the village with our baskets full, the male fox—I'll call him "Fox One" for now—grabbed me. Fox One pulled me by my sleeve and made me kneel beside him before the massive wooden statue of the Vixen. He took a ripe fruit and placed it at the statue’s feet with reverence. He signaled for me to do the same. I didn't object. I placed the fruit.

  But the smell of the incense they lit hit my nose. It was a sharp, woody scent that immediately reminded me of cheap funerals in Chang'an. Why offer food to a dead statue? It will stay there until it rots and attracts flies. Do they think food is infinite? How naive. Of course, I didn't say this. I settled for bowing my head in a masterfully acted display of submission.

  After the ritual, all the foxes sat in the central square in a large circle. The old-young leader sat in the middle. She began to speak in a resonant voice. I thought at first she was going to give a war speech, inciting them to fight Samurai or monsters. That’s what usually happens in Chang'an; shouting and threats. But she... began to sing.

  Her voice was strange, sad and joyful at once, like the howl of the wind in a narrow valley. The other foxes followed her, their voices intertwining. Some brought out wooden wind instruments and began to play. I understood nothing. The only word I recognized was "Kina." I felt no "reverence" or "spirituality." I only felt strangeness, as if I were an intruder in someone else's dream.

  Suddenly... the leader stood up. She headed directly toward me. She grabbed my hand and, with surprising strength, pulled me into the center of the circle. She forced me to dance with them. It wasn't an alluring dance like those I learned to kill my targets or please the Gu clan elders. It was... random. Jumping, spinning, holding hands.

  This is the first time in my life I’ve felt embarrassed by an action. Dozens of men have seen me naked, and I didn't blink. I’ve killed in cold blood and didn't flinch. But now, jumping among these "animals," I felt a stupid heat rising to my face and a cold sweat on my back.

  Are they fools? They are in a grinding war with Samurai and monsters, yet they dance and sing with happy faces? In Chang'an... a smile means you are planning something, or you are crazy. This isn't normal. They are the strange ones. I feel embarrassed on behalf of their stupidity.

  After the dancing farce ended, it was time to eat. We all sat on the ground, baskets before us. I looked at the small amount of food and wondered: how will this be enough for all these foxes? The distribution began. Each fox got half a fruit, or one fruit at most. But for some reason... the leader placed a small pile before me. Five whole fruits.

  I stared at the fruits. Their colors were bright and provocative. Why did they do this? Is it a bribe? Or are they trying to poison me to eat me later? It doesn't matter. I won't thank them. I’ll call them fools in my head and eat coldly. A full stomach is better than hungry dignity.

  I grabbed the first fruit. I bit into it hard. The juice exploded in my mouth. It was sweet... a concentrated, dense sweetness that stung my gums and hurt my teeth accustomed to dry bread and salty soup. It was a taste so rich it felt luxurious—a taste I don't understand. I finished it in three savage bites.

  I grabbed the second. I devoured it. The sticky juice ran down my chin and hands, but I didn't wipe it. As I was eating the third, my eye watching the fourth and fifth warily... suddenly, someone touched me from behind.

  My body jerked as if I had touched an ember. Instinctively, my hand tensed as if gripping an imaginary dagger. I turned quickly. It was a small fox. The only fox whose name I know... (Yuta). He was standing behind me, looking at the pile of fruits I was guarding with my body. His wide eyes were shimmering... with hunger. He said a small word and pointed his small hand to his mouth.

  I understood the word immediately. Food? Time stopped. I looked at him. A hungry child. And I looked at the five fruits I possessed. In stories, the princess would have given him the fruit and smiled. But I am no princess. I am (Kage).

  In my world... "sharing" means "death." If I give to you, I will go hungry. And if I go hungry, I will weaken. And if I weaken... I will die. Never. I will not give anyone a bite of my food.

  I moved with savage speed. I grabbed the third fruit I was eating and stuffed the rest of it into my mouth all at once until I almost choked. Then I grabbed the fourth and fifth with both hands. I began eating with the maximum speed I possessed. Chewing and swallowing without breathing, forcing the food down my throat. Chomp... chomp... chomp...

  The sound of my violent, accelerated chewing and the hurried swallowing broke the quiet of the eating circle. It was an ugly sound—the sound of a frightened animal eating its carcass. I must finish my food before they steal it from me. It is mine.

  In seconds... I had finished all the fruits. I wiped my mouth with the back of my juice-stained hand and looked at the child defiantly, panting. Yuta looked at me in shock. He didn't process what had happened. His lower lip trembled... then he began to cry loudly.

  I said to myself with contempt: Weak. If you want food, you must fight for it. Tears don't fill stomachs. I raised my head, expecting to see anger. I expected them to hit me, shout, or kick me out. But what I saw was... worse. And stranger. They were looking at me... in silence. Their faces weren't angry. There was no contempt in them. Their eyes were soft, their heads tilted slightly. It was a look... strange. I didn't understand it.

  Why are they looking at me like this? Why don't they attack? Is it mockery? Do they look at me as a strange, deformed being? The look made my skin crawl. I felt a tightness, an invisible danger. What is that face you’re making? Stop looking at me like that! Hit me or shout, but don't look at me with those quiet eyes!

  Do you think because he’s a child I’ll give in? Do you think I'm a fool like you? Never. I will never surrender my food. It’s your own fault! Your fault because you give so much food to a stupid statue while your children go hungry! And the child’s fault because he is weak.

  I turned my face away from them, away from those strange looks that pierced my defenses, and felt the sweet fruit turn into a heavy, cold stone in my stomach.