Chapter 173: Esteemed Guests of The Shogun
The smile on the bamboo pole samurai's face froze instantly, shattering like brittle porcelain dropped on stone.
He stood rooted to the spot, his limbs refusing to obey the commands of his terrified brain. It wasn't just fear; it was a primal instinct screaming at him to flee, to grovel, to cease existing in the presence of predators.
He felt as if he were being targeted not by humans, but by two ancient, catastrophic beasts that had crawled out of the deepest pits of mythology.
From the woman in the white military uniform (Esdeath), a bone-chilling cold radiated outward, piercing through his armor and freezing the marrow in his bones. It was the sensation of being naked in a blizzard, watched by a wolf.
From the man with the long, spiky black hair (Madara), a heavy, suffocating pressure descended, crushing the air out of his lungs. It felt as if a mountain were hovering inches above his head, ready to drop at the slightest provocation.
A chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head, making even breathing a difficult, ragged task. His pupils dilated, shaking violently.
"Oh dear, calm down, calm down!"
Just as the atmosphere grew so tense that the air seemed ready to ignite, a bright, melodic voice cut through the killing intent.
Nami stepped forward with a confident, cheeky grin.
She first winked swiftly at her companions—a signal to let her handle the talking—and then transformed. The playful girl vanished. In her place stood a woman of supreme arrogance and authority.
She took a step forward, placing her hands on her hips, striking a pose a hundred times more arrogant than the samurai's previous demeanor. She raised her delicate chin, looking down at the bamboo pole samurai through her nostrils, her eyes flashing with a mix of disdain and impatience.
Her voice was sharp, haughty, and laced with the undeniable cadence of nobility.
"Open your dog eyes and see clearly! Are you blind or just stupid?"
She gestured grandly to the terrifying figures behind her.
"We are esteemed guests specially invited by General Orochi himself, traveling all the way from overseas! We have crossed the treacherous seas to bring wealth and tidings to your Shogun! If you delay the General's important business with your incompetence, how many heads do you have to spare? One? Two? I doubt even ten would be enough to quell his rage!"
"What???"
The bamboo pole samurai and his companions were all stunned, their jaws practically hitting the dirt.
General Orochi's... esteemed guests?
The gears in his panic-stricken brain began to turn frantically. He looked at them again, viewing them through the lens of this new information.
He subconsciously re-evaluated the group.
The leading man (Suzaku) had an indifferent expression, standing with his hands in his pockets. He never even glanced at the samurai from beginning to end, staring past him at the city gates as if the guard were just an insignificant speck of dust unworthy of his royal vision. Only a true ruler possesses such natural arrogance.
The few behind him...
The imposing woman in white (Esdeath), radiating the aura of a conqueror.
The spirited blue-haired older sister (Rem), whose beauty was otherworldly yet subservient only to the leader.
The woman with black wings (Albedo), who looked like a fallen angel.
Even the silent ninja with the blocky head (Shadow General)...
Every one of them exuded an aura that made them tremble with fear. Their clothes were pristine, their weapons looked legendary, and their very presence demanded obedience.
This demeanor, this oppressive feeling... absolute power!
"This... this is not something an ordinary person could fake!" the samurai thought, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum. "In a place like the Flower Capital, where the Shogun's eyes are everywhere, daring to impersonate the General's guests? That would be suicide! Isn't that like an old man hanging himself because he's tired of living?"
No, they had to be real. Only powerful guests invited by the Shogun would dare to release such terrifying auras at the city gate!
At this thought, the bamboo pole samurai instantly broke out in a cold sweat. His previous arrogance transformed into fawning subservience in an instant, faster than a chameleon changing colors.
Slap!
He gave himself a loud, stinging slap on the cheek to show his sincerity.
Then, he bowed ninety degrees, his back bending so low his nose almost touched his knees. His voice was trembling, tinged with a sob of genuine terror.
"Oh dear! So it was General-sama's esteemed guests! Please forgive my blindness!"
He kept bowing, his voice cracking.
"This lowly one had eyes but failed to recognize the towering mountain before him! This lowly one deserves to die! For offending you esteemed sirs, I hope you sirs are magnanimous and forgiving! Please, I beg of you, don't hold it against this humble, stupid guard!"
With that, he straightened up, rubbing his hands together rapidly, his face beaming with a smile that crinkled every wrinkle on his face—a smile as fake and bright as a chrysanthemum in bloom.
"Esteemed sirs, please come in, please come in! Don't stand here in the dust!"
He gestured wildly towards the gate.
"This lowly one will lead the way for you personally! I will ensure you are served comfortably and guide you directly to the Shogun's palace!"
He quickly handed the gate-keeping duty to his bewildered companions, barking orders at them to stand straight. Then, bowing and scraping like a servant in a royal court, he walked in front, clearing the path for Suzaku and his group.
Passing through the massive wooden city gate, the scene before them opened up dramatically.
It was like stepping into a different dimension.
Behind them lay the wasteland of Kuri—a place of gray skies, poisoned water, and starving children.
But here?
This was truly a place of peace and prosperity, a bustling human world vibrant with color and life.
Along the clean and tidy streets, paved with smooth cobblestones, were rows of towering shops and tea houses. The architecture was exquisite, featuring curved roofs and intricate wooden lattices.
Men and women walked the streets in brightly colored kimonos—reds, blues, golds—patterns of flowers and waves dancing as they moved. Their faces were filled with happy smiles, chatting about the latest kabuki play or the weather.
Sizzle...
The air was thick with mouth-watering aromas.
The sweet, oily scent of frying tempura wafted from street stalls. The sugary fragrance of tricolor dango and red bean soup drifted from the tea shops. The savory smell of soba noodles in hot broth made one's stomach rumble.
From the distant geisha district, the delicate sounds of the shamisen and joyful, high-pitched laughter floated on the wind, painting a picture of endless revelry.
Cherry blossom petals fell like pink snow, dancing in the gentle breeze, adding a dreamlike quality to the city.
Seeing that the "esteemed guests" were looking around, seemingly attracted by the prosperity, the leading samurai became even more smug. He puffed out his chest, walking with a swagger that was comical given his earlier panic.
"Esteemed sirs, what do you think of our Flower Capital?"
He gestured to the busy street with pride.
"This magnificent sight is all thanks to General Orochi's excellent governance! Under his rule, the capital flourishes like a garden in spring! It is the jewel of Wano!"
His tone was filled with the blinding pride of a "city dweller," the arrogance of those who live in the capital and look down on the countryside. He completely ignored—or perhaps chose not to see—that beneath this false prosperity, beneath the gold leaf and the silk, was the drained blood of the entire country. The happiness here was built on the graves of Kuri, Ringo, and Udon.
Listening to this grating flattery, a hint of cold disgust flashed in Nami's eyes as she walked with the group.
She looked at the laughing children holding expensive toys, then thought of Tama drinking poisoned river water. The contrast made her sick.
"Disgusting," she thought, maintaining her haughty facade but gripping her climatact tighter. "It's just like Arlong Park, but on a massive scale. False happiness built on slavery."
Esdeath, on the other hand, licked her lips. Her ice-blue eyes scanned the crowd, not admiring the beauty, but assessing the strength.
"Weak. Weak. Weak," she analyzed silently. "Cattle living in a pen. Is there anyone in this city worthy of being hunted? Or are they all just sheep waiting to be slaughtered?"
As for Suzaku, he simply walked quietly, his hands still in his pockets. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, towards the massive structure looming in the center of the city.
On that seemingly calm face, his deep eyes reflected every corner of this city of sin. He didn't see a prosperous capital; he saw a tumor.
Like a giant dragon that had already locked onto its prey, he was surveying the territory he was about to flatten.
"Enjoy your festival while you can," Suzaku mused internally, his Haki humming beneath his skin. "Because the storm is already here."
Amidst the almost fawning flattery of the samurai, who was now explaining the history of a particular sake shop, Suzaku and his group passed through the bustling streets.
This false splendor was like a dazzling, golden fig leaf, desperately trying to cover the festering, gangrenous wound of the entire Wano Country.
And the "wise and mighty" General Orochi, as the samurai reverently called him, was nothing more than the King of Maggots, sucking the blood and marrow from this wound to fatten himself.
Soon, the street widened, leading to a massive plaza.
A mansion, several times more magnificent and luxurious than all the surrounding buildings combined, appeared before everyone's eyes.
It was a fortress of greed.
Crimson giant gates stood tall, reinforced with iron. The beams of the roof were decorated with heavy gold leaf that glittered blindingly in the sun. Fierce, Oni-faced roof tiles stared down from the eaves, their expressions snarling as if threatening anyone who dared approach without invitation.
Beautifully manicured pine trees peeked over the high white walls.
This was Orochi's General's Mansion. The heart of the corruption.
"Esteemed sirs, we've arrived! This is the General's Mansion!"
The leading samurai stopped, wiping sweat from his forehead. He bowed and scraped, his face beaming with the excitement of impending reward.
He seemed to already envision his glorious future: receiving a bag of gold Berries for his "meritorious guidance," being praised by the General's retainer, and being able to hold his head high among his neighbors for months to come.
"Please, allow me to announce you!"
However, before he could step forward to claim his imaginary credit, a thunderous rebuke came from in front of the mansion gate.
"Stop! You scoundrel!"
The shout was filled with authority and killing intent.
"Why aren't you guarding the city gate properly? And what are you doing bringing this unidentified riff-raff to the General's Mansion? Do you want to die?!"
Two samurai, standing guard at the main gate, strode forward.
They were clad in heavy, high-quality black armor that clanked with every step. Famous swords hung at their waists, their hands resting ready on the hilts.
The one in the lead had a long, jagged saber scar running diagonally across his face, making his expression look perpetually fierce. His eyes were sharp and cold, like a hungry wolf's.
His aura was a cut above that of the bamboo pole samurai at the city gate. These were not conscripts; they were killers. They were the General's personal guards, the true elites of the Orochi Oniwabanshu or the Mimawarigumi.
The leading samurai's smile instantly froze on his face. The dream of gold vanished, replaced by the nightmare of execution.
His legs turned to jelly, and he nearly collapsed to his knees right there on the stone pavement.
His little bit of prestige in front of commoners was worth less than a fart in front of these "superiors."
"S-s-sir! A misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!"
He quickly bowed, his posture humble to the dust, shaking like a leaf in a storm.
"This lowly one... this lowly one did not abandon his post! I swear!"
He pointed a trembling finger back at Suzaku and Nami.
"These esteemed sirs... they are guests! Important guests invited by General-sama himself! This lowly one feared delaying the General's important business, so he took it upon himself to personally escort the sirs here..."
"Esteemed guests?"
The scar-faced samurai frowned deeply. His suspicious, predatory gaze finally shifted from the groveling guide to Suzaku and his group.
He scrutinized them. He saw the strange clothes. He saw the lack of the traditional chonmage topknots. He saw the confident, almost bored expressions on their faces.
"Hmm?"
He let out a questioning hum, deep in his throat. His hand tightened on his sword hilt.
"Why haven't I heard that General-sama invited any guests today? The schedule is empty."
The atmosphere, for a moment, became stagnant. The air grew heavy.
The leading samurai was sweating profusely, terrified that his lie would be exposed and his head would roll on the pavement. He looked at Nami with pleading eyes.
Nami, meanwhile, quietly winked at Suzaku, a cunning curve playing on her lips.
Her look seemed to say: Done, we're here at the front door. Can we stop acting now?
Suzaku remained calm, merely finding the situation a little amusing. He looked at the elite guards, measuring the distance.
He was just about to give orders to everyone to simply kick the door down.
Just as the scar-faced samurai was about to wave them away and arrest the guide, the leading bamboo pole samurai, possessed by an overwhelming will to survive, rushed forward a step.
He pressed on with an almost pleading tone, his voice high-pitched with desperation:
"Sir! Please think again! Look at them! Look at their bearing! Could it be that the messenger hasn't reached you yet? Or perhaps it is a secret visit?"
He lowered his voice to a frantic whisper.
"These esteemed sirs have come all the way from overseas! They said that General-sama personally sent people across the sea to invite them! If we were to neglect them... and ruin the General's important business, you and I... we wouldn't be able to bear the responsibility! Do you want to risk the General's wrath?"
He spoke with such emotion, almost shedding tears on the spot. He was gambling his life on this lie.
The scar-faced guard paused. The word "overseas" caught his attention. Kaido and Orochi indeed had dealings with the outside world—dealings that were often secret.
He looked at Suzaku again, his eyes narrowing.
"From overseas?"
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