Chapter 220: East, Hwaseong (8)
[Zetto, why are you suddenly wearing…]
[It’s a little hot.]
[I see.]
The platinum-haired girl’s face flushes red.
“Well, from the sounds of it, they’re not ninjas, they’re not grave robbers, they’re just students from some western academy who followed a man, so I wonder if it’s okay to kill them.”
Observing the three women through the scroll, Hanzo ultimately decided not to kill them.
The tomb, he realized, was meant for ninjas to enter at the risk of death, to pass through the gates, and to gain enlightenment from their training, not for needless killing.
If there were ninjas floundering around with such blunt armor, they would certainly deserve to be killed on the spot, but they seemed to have nothing to do with this tomb, nor with ninjas.
“I’d better get them back to the entrance.”
Hanzo was about to rescind his earlier order to the guards and order them to place the sleeping spit.
-Poof!
Suddenly, the platinum-haired girl from inside the scroll pulled out a golden rod from within her arms, and immediately pierced the chest of the guardsman in Zetto’s form.
[Ms. Aizel…?]
The smoke didn’t end when the chest was pierced, and she frowned.
[Unpleasant.]
[What is that…?]
[How dare you copy and mimic Zetto, it’s so unpleasant I can’t stand it anymore. Did you think I wouldn’t notice, you don’t smell like him.]
Tilting her head, a blue spark leaps from her spear, and the wooden armor entire body is quickly engulfed in flames.
“Hmph…”
Hanzo scratched his head at the sound of Aizel’s murderous voice. Turning his gaze slightly, he saw the other women’s reactions were no different.
[You’re not Cadet Zetto, are you?]
[What are you talking about, Kaen.]
[I guess you couldn’t keep up with the ki?]
[Ki…?]
[Oh, please just die now, it’s a waste of time.]
And this one, who was supposed to be the reincarnation of Dao Hua.
[Zetto is not a man who takes his clothes off so easily, nor is he a man who doesn’t ask where the others are in a situation like this. He makes sure to check on them every time, to the point of frustration.]
The same was true of the red-haired woman.
Next, the throats of the wooded armors burst open, and the last of the armors is reduced to ashes by the intense flames.
Just when he thought they’d been completely taken in, without any other indication, the women realize that the man in front of them is not Zetto.
“Did I underestimate them?”
The wooden armor acting was perfect, he thought.
He had already observed things like Zetto’s tone and demeanor firsthand.
Still, it was clumsy.
That was how they were judging him.
“This is… What have you done, my friend, to have so many women around you with eyes like that?”
Hanzo glanced at the lifelike eyes of the women staring down at him and shook his head.
Soon, the three women were walking down the aisle, touching a dot.
[Did you all find anything?]
[Well, I didn’t see anything.]
[Neither did I.]
The three women continued on to the next gateway, seemingly oblivious to the wooden armor they had just met.
“These women are talented, so as long as I adjust the difficulty level, they should be able to get through the gateway without too much trouble, so where…”
Hanzo trailed off and turned his attention to the scroll in front of Zetto.
“…”
But there was no sign of Zetto, only the shattered remains of the wooden armors.
“Where is he?”
Hanzo closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to find his signature.
-Thud!
Someone knocked on the door of the alcove Hanzo was in.
‘He went through the last gateway because I took my eyes from him for a moment…’
It was Zetto standing behind the door.
Hanzo snapped his fingers and opened the door on the other side, revealing his pure white bandages.
“…Welcome, the ghost next to you must be your Master.”
Hanzo could then make out the face of his mentor floating beside him.
It was a black-haired, violet-eyed beauty.
[Can you see me?]
Sierra asked, tilting her head as Hanzo spoke to her.
“We’re both dead, so it’s only natural that we can see each other.”
The scrolls hadn’t been able to confirm it, but now that they were face to face, the spirits could see each other.
“Are you…Hanzo. You’re already dead, only your spirit remains.”
Zetto said as he strode into the alcove.
“Hmm… so this place… this building… is your soul. It’s unique. I’d say this entire tomb is you.”
“Indeed. It would be common to put one’s soul into a weapon like your master’s, but what I wanted was to nurture the next generation, not blood or killing, so I couldn’t help it since my disciples died before the master.”
“To seal one’s soul in a grave in order to train the next generation is something one cannot even think of without being somewhat insane.
[That Hanzo was such an old man.]
“You have been fortunate to live a long life as a ninja, and you have unfortunately died at a fairly early age. I am Hanzo, a ninja of the Hua Clan, once called the Great Ninja.”
[My name is Sierra.]
“…I’m Zetto.”
With that, the introductions were made, and for a moment, Zetto wondered if he should mention his tinnitus or not.
“So… I’m guessing you didn’t come here to train as a ninja or to gain enlightenment… You should be rewarded for that, but you don’t seem to care. You seem to have a purpose, and what is it?”
Indeed.
Hanzo knew that Zetto’s former life was the Conquering King, but he had no idea why he was here or what his purpose was.
“I want two things. The first is the treasure that should be here.”
“I see, there are no gold or silver treasures here that would be coveted by grave robbers.”
“But I thought there was a treasure here that would be worth more than any gold or silver treasure to the current Hwaseong.”
“… Hwaseong? Are you from Hwaseong?”
“Not exactly, but we need it for the great battle ahead.”
Zetto went on to explain the difficulties Hwaseong was currently facing.
In reality, Hanzo’s soul had been dormant for hundreds of years, awakened by the opening of the tomb, so even he had no way of knowing what was going on outside.
“When I was alive, I told them to be very careful when dealing with shrine maidens…”
Hanzo sighed, realizing the pathetic state of the ninjas of the later generations.
“If that’s the case, then you’ll need that ‘compass’ that can detect divine beats, but you can’t see it, can your master help you?”
“I don’t think it would be necessary for me to use it, but it would be sufficient for me to give it to the shrine maiden.”
“Ah, I see, then what is the second thing you want?”
“…”
At Hanzo’s next question, Zetto paused, glanced at Sierra, and finally spoke.
“I had an unpleasant experience in the first gate. Apparently, Mr. Hanzo, you have some connection to my past… to my previous life. I would like an explanation for that, and if you don’t have a satisfactory answer…”
“And if not?”
“…Well, I was thinking earlier about what might be a valid threat to a ghost. Like, say, breaking this tomb where Hanzo’s spirit is sealed. I haven’t decided yet, but I’m hoping that after I get your answer, I can stop thinking about it.”
“Hehe…”
Hanzo stroked his long beard and laughed.
‘He’s very angry…’
***
Meanwhile, on the train bound for Hwaseong, a demon sat in his seat with his horns hidden and a newspaper open.
‘If things have gone according to schedule, Lord Zetto should be in Hwaseong.’
It was Keraph.
He hadn’t expected to have to follow them all the way to the East, but a valuable piece of information had reached his ears, and he was in a hurry to find Zetto.
There was only one problem: the boy sitting right next to him.
Keraph could barely concentrate on his current newspaper.
“I smell something…”
The silver-haired boy, dressed roughly in a tattered gunny sack, turned his head toward Keraph and sniffed but it was the large, red coffin beside him that distracted him.
‘Wasn’t that Zetto’s coffin…?’
Having watched Zetto’s funeral from afar, Keraph recognized the imprints on the coffin.
He didn’t know if the other passengers were unaware or uninterested, but to him at least, this boy carrying ‘Zetto’s coffin’ and heading to where Zetto was full of foreboding, no matter how he interpreted it.
Trying to avoid eye contact and pretending to concentrate on his newspaper, Keraph tried to make a guess at the boy’s identity.
‘Silver-haired boy, carrying a coffin. Keeps sniffing.’
If nothing else, there was one character whose bizarre behavior of sniffing and sniffing and sniffing made sense.
‘Wild dog…’
The boy next to him was definitely looking like a wild dog, but he was a little boy.
‘There’s no way a hound could be this small, and I don’t see any ears or a tail, which are the hallmarks of a lycanthrope…’
Shaking his head, Keraph quickly cleared it.
“Did you smell something?”
Keraph asked, smiling as kindly as he could to the young boy without making him feel scared or suspicious.
The silver-haired boy responded with a grunt.
“I see now. You…”
“Huh…?”
“…You’re not human, are you?”
“Gah, this guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about all of a sudden, does he?”
“It’s okay, I’m not exactly human either. I’m a lycanthrope. And you?”
“Haha, I’m…”
Keraph searched for a suitable species to hide his identity.
“Demon, right?”
“……”
But his worries are quickly dashed by the boy’s resolute voice.
“I think so, because I’m pretty sure I can smell it.”
The silver-haired boy flicks his nose and beams with pride.
‘I see, the hound was a little boy.’
Keraph smiled slightly at this new information about the wild dog, and prayed fervently inwardly.
‘Lord Zetto, please don’t kill me…’