The next day, the school bell rang, signaling the end of the sixth period.
Haizaki Shogo had already told Shimizu Rena that he would go to the sanda gym by himself. He had something to take care of, so he wouldn't accompany her to the fencing hall.
At the sanda gym, standing before Shogo was a man with a lean, commanding presence. He approached, feeling over Shogo's muscles and bones twice before speaking.
"You've got potential. Broad bones, dense structure. Muscles well-developed and coordinated, reflexes not bad. So… you want to learn weapons, kid?"
"Uh… yes. Is that a problem?"
"No problem. Learning the basics will be quick, but if you want to go deeper, you'll have to endure some hardships."
"I just want the combat ability to handle large carnivores in the wild. Nothing like… killing people or setting fires."
"Ah, that makes it simple. By the way, which weapons do you want to learn?"
"What weapons are best for the wild?"
"Sword, spear, bow… which one do you want?"
"Sword and spear."
"Good. I'll teach you the basics of both."
Soon, Shogo followed the lean man to a practice room in the basement. The walls were marked with scratches, and a few solid sandbags were tucked in the corners.
From the equipment storage, the man retrieved two heavy cleavers. He handed one to Shogo with a solemn tone:
"Listen carefully. A blade is a lethal tool—use it with caution. Swordsmanship is the art of drawing blood; never treat it lightly."
"…Uh… I'm not here to kill anyone."
"Heh. I'm not forcing you. It's just my old-school habit to make this clear before teaching. Now I'll show you basic techniques—learn as much as you can."
With that, the man raised his sword.
Whoosh!
The blade cut horizontally through the air as he demonstrated the simplest moves: horizontal swings, chops, blocks, thrusts, and parries. He explained each motion as he performed them.
Soon, the basic sword techniques were done, and the man let Shogo try.
Unexpectedly, Shogo stepped up and flawlessly reproduced the entire sequence.
The man's eyes widened—part surprise, part disapproval.
"You've studied swordsmanship before?"
"No, first time touching a cleaver."
"Liar. Impossible."
"Well… coach, I have a kind of photographic memory."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
The man said nothing, then demonstrated an ancient spear technique—the kind that kills on the battlefield.
Once finished, Shogo picked up the long spear and recreated the form again.
The man looked at him like he was seeing a monster and then said excitedly:
"A once-in-a-lifetime genius. Think about it—study ancient martial arts with me. Forget sanda. Sanda is just for show and self-deception."
Whoa. The words coming out of the man's mouth startled Shogo.
It felt as if this man had emerged from a mountain of corpses, radiating raw power and bloodlust with every word.
"Coach, I just want to deal with wild animals, nothing more."
"Think about it. Since you've already learned the basics of sword and spear from me, you may go for today."
Shogo froze. That's it? That's all?
With a puzzled tone, he asked the lean coach:
"Coach… that's enough?"
"Yes. Practice these techniques every day. Then work on basic movements, and that's all you need."
"Coach… are you sure this will work?"
Shogo was confused, baffled, and couldn't comprehend it.
The answer he received was simple and undeniable—a truth he had to accept:
"You can learn the technique, but whether you can use it depends on your own practice. It also depends on your mastery and flexibility. I cannot teach that—it comes naturally and through hard work."
Truth! Simple, direct, and brutal.
Like a raw recruit becoming a soldier—killing and shedding blood becomes routine, entirely dependent on practice and adaptability.
Bowing slightly, Shogo thanked the man and left, carrying an iron spear.
The spear had a blunt edge, given to him for practice.
After finding someone to spar with briefly, Shogo carried the massive weapon home, earning incredulous stares along the way.
At the villa, his mother looked astonished.
"Shogo-kun… have you gone obsessed?"
Shogo paused, then said thoughtfully:
"Yes, Mother. The school club asked me to help them with 'Zhao Zilong' from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Mother… do I look like him?"
He then lifted the spear toward the sky in a playful challenge.
"You do! Alright, come inside, it's time to eat!"
Shogo chuckled. As he entered, he thought of his skyward challenge. If the heavens are displeased… one bolt of lightning and I'd be toast. Better be careful.
From tomorrow onward, he would wake early, practice punches, then train in sword and spear. All in about forty minutes.
Including washing and other routines, he'd just get up an hour earlier—a small price for serious skill training.
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
On a new Monday, after the second period, Shimizu Rena ran excitedly to Shogo with basketball news.
"Shogo-kun! The junior high basketball league has ended! Teiko Junior High crushed Meiko Middle, 111 to 11, completing the triple crown you talked about!"
Shogo froze for a moment, then smiled at her.
He turned to the cherry trees in the schoolyard, thoughts drifting.
Triple crown…
The Generation of Miracles had already made legends of Akashi Seijuro, Aomine Daiki, Midorima Shintaro, Kise Ryouta, Murasakibara Atsushi, and the overlooked Kuroko Tetsuya.
Those six were destined for greatness—but with Shogo in the mix, who knew how things would end?
Summer vacation was approaching, and middle school graduation too. The next chapter of life was about to begin.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Shogo snapped back.
Rena was looking at him with a 'what are you thinking?' expression.
"What is it, Shimizu-chan?"
"Shogo-kun… graduation is coming. Which high school will you go to?"
"I'll stay at Fukuda Sogo!"
"That's great! I'll still be your classmate."
Satisfied with his answer, the gentle and composed Rena hummed a tune at her desk, seemingly unconcerned whether Shogo could hear it or not.
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