Teaching Kendo in Tokyo 1980

What happened next played out more or less as Kazuma had expected.

His spar with Nanjo ended in just a few short minutes.

With his current Shintō-ryū swordsmanship at level 7, Real Combat at level 12, plus the bonus from his Lone Dragon trait, going up against Nanjo, whose swordsmanship was only level 8, was practically bullying.

Mikako, watching from the sidelines, was wide-eyed. "You're amazing, Kazuma! You've gotten even stronger! You look way stronger than when you fought Daimon-sensei! How did you do it?"

Simple—I soloed an entire yakuza group, Kazuma thought smugly.

Of course, he couldn't say that out loud. Detective Shiratori had made it very clear: the truth had to be kept under wraps. Sumitomo Construction had paid handsomely to bury the incident and protect their corporate image.

If Kazuma blurted it out now, unscrupulous reporters would descend on him in an instant. They wouldn't kill him like yakuza would, but their pens could destroy him socially all the same.

If things spiraled out of control, even if Kazuma aced Todai's entrance exam, the school might still reject him for "conduct unbecoming."

So Kazuma wisely chose to stay silent.

Chiyoko, meanwhile, puffed up proudly. "My big brother was always strong! He was just too busy worrying about how to save the dojo before, so he couldn't focus on kendo. He was probably just going through the motions at school."

She'd clearly decided that since the dojo wasn't getting sold anymore, it was better to spin the story as "big brother heroically saved Father's dojo"—which sounded a lot cooler than "failed to sell the dojo."

Kazuma approved of her quick thinking.

Mikako gasped. "Really? You fought the yakuza to protect the dojo? That's how you got those injuries?"

Nanjo Honami had looked like she wanted to say something too, but at Mikako's words, her gaze shifted to the bandages on Kazuma's body, her expression thoughtful.

Kazuma quickly changed the subject. "Let's not dwell on that. The dojo's safe now, and I've got a good sense of your skill, Nanjo-san. I'll think about how to teach you both."

As he spoke, Kazuma swiftly removed his protective gear, took the towel Chiyoko handed him, wiped off his sweat, and sat down to "meditate."

In truth, he wasn't thinking about teaching them at all—he was checking how much EXP he'd earned from sparring with Nanjo.

The result was a bit disappointing—barely any.

It seemed that now that Kazuma was so strong, fighting someone like Nanjo came with diminishing returns—just like in an online game, where farming low-level mobs gives less EXP.

No worries, Kazuma consoled himself. Even if it's slow, I'll grind it out.

It couldn't possibly be harder than leveling up in the MMOs he'd played in his past life.

Finishing his meditation, Kazuma stood up, ready to instruct the two girls—when Nanjo suddenly asked, "Kazuma-kun, just now you did that sidestep and counter move. Could you teach me?"

She was referring to the technique where Kazuma shifted his upper body to make the opponent's strike miss the valid scoring area, then counterattacked.

It was a move specifically suited to kendo tournaments—in real combat, any blade hitting your body was potentially fatal.

But in kendo matches, a hit to the shoulder, for example, wouldn't count as a valid strike.

Kazuma explained, "That move requires very strong fundamentals, and also quick reflexes. If you're not careful, you might end up getting hit in an unprotected area and injured."

He was quoting his old master Hasegawa's exact words from his past life.

The reason Kazuma could pull it off smoothly was thanks to his level 12 Real Combat stat and boosted reaction speed.

If Nanjo tried it recklessly, she'd probably get hurt—at minimum, a muscle bruise on her upper arm.

Then again, girls' kendo wasn't usually that forceful.

Mikako chimed in eagerly. "But it looked so cool! Come on, teach us!"

"Weren't you listening? Besides, that move depends on reading the situation—there's no set form. It's better to teach you something like from Hokushin Ittō-ryū—"

Kazuma abruptly stopped himself.

Though he trained in Shintō-ryū, Chinese kendo culture was a mishmash, without strict divisions between styles. Especially among HEMA enthusiasts, people borrowed whatever worked.

Hokushin Ittō-ryū had many techniques for deflecting an opponent's blade and targeting their wrist—popular with HEMA practitioners.

And those moves worked in competitive kendo too—depending on grip, one hand or the other was always a valid scoring target.

But mentioning it now… probably wasn't smart.

Nanjo tilted her head. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask—your thrust just now looked very Shintō-ryū-like. But now you're saying you'll teach us Hokushin Ittō-ryū moves. But didn't Chiyoko-san say your family dojo teaches Tennen Rishin-ryū?"

Kazuma adopted a serious tone. "That's correct—my family dojo is Tennen Rishin-ryū. But after training extensively in one style, I realized something—mastering just one style has limits!"

He stood tall. "Only by learning from many schools can one become a true swordmaster!"

He delivered this nonsense with such conviction that the girls were momentarily speechless.

Finally, Mikako broke the silence with a playful jab. "But it's 1980! Isn't trying to become a swordmaster in modern society a little weird?"

Chiyoko added, "Now that you mention it, the Keishichō-ryū, the Metropolitan Police style, is a mishmash of techniques from different schools. The police higher-ups from Jigen-ryū always make fun of it as 'an eclectic style without true spirit.'"

Keishichō-ryū had originally been created to teach swordsmanship to commoners who joined the Keishichō saber squads. The police brass at the time, many from Satsuma and masters of Jigen-ryū, had looked down on it.

After the Seinan War, many of those higher-ups rebelled with Saigō Takamori, and Keishichō-ryū was officially adopted.

Even now, especially in Kansai, high-ranking police families still favored Jigen-ryū training. Their career track was to attend top universities, pass the civil service exam, and parachute into senior roles.

Commoner officers who came up through the academy typically learned Keishichō-ryū.

At this point, Chiyoko connected this background to Kazuma's supposed "ambitions," turning into full-on "brother fangirl mode." "As expected of my brother, who plans to join the Metropolitan Police! He's thinking so far ahead!"

Kazuma nodded solemnly. "Exactly! That's the idea!"

Nanjo looked thoroughly impressed. "That makes so much sense! Please teach me both the thrust and the Hokushin Ittō-ryū moves!"

Mikako chimed in. "Me too, me too!"

Kazuma nodded. "Alright, one at a time. Nanjo-san, I'll demonstrate Gatotsu for you first."

The moment he used that form of address, Mikako's eyes sparkled—Kazuma usually just called her Mikako.

But Kazuma wasn't paying any attention to that. He picked up his bamboo sword and moved to an open area of the dojo, adopting the Gatotsu stance.

"Watch closely!"

With that, he launched forward in a burst of speed.

Mikako and Nanjo were left stunned.

Chiyoko quickly chimed in, "Uh, that's because our dojo's old fluorescent lights flicker at a certain frequency, which makes the movement look jumpy—"

She parroted the same excuse Kazuma had used on her before.

Nanjo and Mikako both glanced up at the dojo lights.

It was daytime. The lights were off.

Kazuma coughed. "Er, the human eye already perceives motion as discrete frames, so in theory, if you move fast enough, afterimages can appear. Like with a fan—see the blades? Right?"

The girls both looked toward the lone fan in the corner.

Mikako crossed her arms. "Who are you trying to fool? We're all aiming for top universities—none of us are that gullible!"

"Anyway, if you're fast enough, this kind of thing happens," Kazuma said breezily. "Now, let me break it down step by step."

(End of Chapter)