“Huff… huff… huff… huff…”

His vision rose and fell with each breath.

—Did I win…

After sweeping his gaze over the corpses strewn around him, Aoto swallowed, moistening a throat that had gone slightly dry from being so focused on the fight that he hadn’t even swallowed his saliva.

“…Not bad.” Saitō’s voice sounded from behind Aoto.

Saitō carried his still-dripping jutte and walked slowly toward Aoto.

“I thought the person I was assigned to protect this time would be someone without much skill.”

“Seems not to be the case.”

Receiving Saitō’s brief praise, Aoto gave a light laugh.

“All thanks to the fact that the opponents we ran into happened to be weak, and you watched my back. That’s why I could fight so smoothly.”

The reason the recent battle had turned into such a satisfying, crushing victory, Aoto believed, was mainly that the enemies were weak.

They were not strong; they lacked proper sword technique, and their footwork was far from competent.

His talents like Lone Courage and Hawk Eye had also played major roles.

With Lone Courage amplifying him, fighting four at once, Aoto felt his body in peak condition—stamina, strength, speed, and reaction time all improved dramatically.

Saitō, who had guarded his back and let him attack with full confidence, also made a significant contribution.

After several days of special training, Aoto was no longer the novice swordsman he had been. Coupled with combat experience from a past life and these powerful talents… with all those factors combined, easily defeating these four weak opponents was only natural.

“How about your side? Did you clear them out?” Aoto asked Saitō while pulling a piece of paper from his chest pocket to wipe his blade.

“One ran off.”

“One ran off… well, that’s within my expectations. If every one of these fanatics were the kind who would fight to the death, that would actually be surprising. Here—”

Aoto handed a scrap of paper to Saitō.

After wiping away the blood, fat, brain matter, and fragments of bone from the jutte’s blade and sheathing it—

“…You seem very composed. This isn’t your first time killing someone, is it?”

Saitō asked as he cleaned his weapon.

“Huh? No.” Aoto glanced at the corpse at his feet. “This is my first time killing someone.”

“Your first time?” The usually expressionless Saitō actually changed his face for once—his eyes narrowed slightly. “…It’s rare to see someone so calm for their first kill. Don’t you feel fear or discomfort?”

“Well… someone draws a sword at me, and I draw mine back at them. Killing those who try to kill me—I think it’s only natural. I don’t feel discomfort.”

Saitō’s eyes narrowed further.

His gaze remained like an old pool—no sorrow, no joy.

But at that moment, upon closer inspection, Aoto could almost see a faint trace of amusement deep within Saitō’s pupils.

Since Aoto had his back to Saitō, he didn’t notice that faint smile. He looked around instead.

“Saitō, keep an eye on the surroundings. If any passerby or other enemies approach, warn me.”

“I want to check if any of these people are carrying high-value intelligence.”

Saying so, Aoto crouched over the corpse at his feet and began frisking him thoroughly.

Aoto’s goal was to find anything on these would-be assassins that could provide quality intelligence—orders or letters from superiors or companions, lists of organization members, things like that.

Aoto strongly suspected that the radicals targeting his head were part of an organization of some size.

After the last assassination attempt on him failed, they had immediately organized another attempt, this time larger—eight people in one go. Aoto refused to believe such coordination existed without an organization behind it.

Saitō nodded slightly to Aoto, then tilted his head back, placing his left hand on the hilt of the jutte he had just sheathed, taking up watch.

Aoto rifled through the seven bodies on the ground from head to toe and found, to his disappointment, that these seven people were frighteningly “clean.”

They had nothing on them that could yield intelligence—no money, no rations… nothing at all.

If only one of them had been empty-handed, it would be one thing.

But all seven? That made Aoto uneasy.

—Coincidence…

Aoto frowned.

—Or were they deliberately stripped to prevent leaks if their assassination failed…

Questions swirled in his mind.

This place and time were not suitable for lingering on such thoughts.

It was roughly three in the afternoon now. The radicals’ attack had already delayed them. If they dawdled any longer, they might not reach the first post station, Shinagawa-shuku, before nightfall.

In an era without streetlights or navigation, traveling at night was dangerous. It was common knowledge not to be on lonely roads after dark unless absolutely necessary.

So Aoto forced down his questions for the moment, picked up the straw hat he had tossed aside, and signaled Saitō, “Saitō, let’s go.”

…

…

Tōkaidō, Shinagawa-shuku—

As the post station on the Tōkaidō closest to Edo, Shinagawa-shuku’s post-town had grown into a substantial castle town, influenced by the huge city of Edo with its population of a million.

After hurrying along, Aoto and Saitō managed to reach Shinagawa-shuku’s post-town before night fully fell.

These post-towns mainly survived on travelers.

No sooner had Aoto and Saitō entered Shinagawa-shuku’s post-town than a dozen or so figures, like cats smelling blood, surrounded them and tried to lure them into teahouses or izakaya, or offered the company of young women.

Too busy to engage them, Aoto politely declined their solicitations and headed straight to the toiya-basho.

The toiya-basho is the office that manages the post town and arranges things like relay horses for official couriers. The head of the office is called the toiya, and beneath him are regular staff such as the toshiyori, chōtsuke, uma-sashi, and jin-soku.

When Aoto led Saitō into the toiya-basho, a jin-soku—one of the office’s basic staff—immediately approached.

Seeing Aoto’s inrō at his right waist that indicated his service to the Edo Magistrate’s Office, and the jutte tied with a red tassel that proved his identity as a member of the Three Squads, the jin-soku hurried forward even more respectfully.

“I am a Teimachi squad constable of the Edo Kita Bansho: Tachibana Aoto.” Aoto took from his chest the document proving he was on official business and handed it to the jin-soku. “Prepare lodging, meals, and bath water… ah, and wash my clothes.”

Aoto shook the cloak he had used today to block the blood.

“And arrange a courier to deliver a message for me.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep