Hayashi Yoshiki had never trained in kendo.
He'd only learned kendo-related terms and techniques by hearing and seeing. This was his first time actually holding a sword.
And yet, the moment he gripped it, he instinctively understood: the samurai sword was an extremely extreme weapon—sharp, but fragile. Not suitable for brute force. Not made for direct collisions.
"Ha!"
The man wearing a Prajna mask charged and swung down with a blade.
Hayashi Yoshiki calmly raised the sword with one hand and held it across his eyes, blocking the strike cleanly. When his opponent tried to bear down with weight and force, Yoshiki twisted his body in a graceful spin. The two long blades screeched against each other with a clear metallic hum—
—and the short knife in Hayashi Yoshiki's other hand had already stabbed deep into the man's back, near the kidney.
His movements were as smooth and natural as drinking water.
The man staggered back, shrieking in horror.
"I'm sorry. I might've been a little harsh," Hayashi Yoshiki said with a light smile, before giving the man a kick that sent him flying—grinning without a hint of guilt.
The others, who had charged in with him, suddenly froze.
They weren't killers.
They were just students of the Yoshitsune school, trained by Saijo Taiga.
Facing someone like Hayashi Yoshiki, who didn't hesitate in the slightest, fear gripped their hearts.
"Don't be afraid! We go together!"
"Revenge for Yaga and the others!"
They exchanged determined looks, then charged again.
Hayashi Yoshiki bent down and picked up another blade—this one belonging to the man whose hands he had sliced off earlier. He now held a sword in each hand.
Two enemies rushed him at once.
"Go to hell!"
Their attacks came in perfect sync—an overhead slash and a middle-level thrust. Hayashi Yoshiki was forced to evade. He twisted past the slashing blade, the tip of the thrusting sword barely grazing his cheek. Before he could counter, the first man had already recovered and came in swinging again.
Hayashi Yoshiki raised his left arm to block—but he'd already seen it.
Another man was coming in fast from the right, thrusting his sword straight at his waist.
The night air was cold, and the blade cut through the temple's mist like a predator through the fog.
But when the attacker's knife struck its target, he didn't feel flesh.
He felt metal.
Iron?
"What the—!?"
"Too bad," Hayashi Yoshiki grinned.
In a flash, he raised the knife in his right hand. His shadow fell across the man's mask—
—and the blade came down.
With the sound of tearing silk, it slashed clean through the attacker's kendo uniform, and a fountain of blood erupted.
His companion's blood splashed across Hayashi Yoshiki's hand and shirt collar. The man still locked in a duel with him saw the crimson drip down Yoshiki's blade—
—and the look in Yoshiki's eyes.
With a push from his left hand, Hayashi Yoshiki shoved the man backward several steps.
Such strength...?!
The man was stunned.
"You talk about revenge for your comrades," Hayashi Yoshiki said, "But the moment I showed a weakness, you didn't hesitate to stab me."
The others stood frozen, unwilling to approach.
Hayashi Yoshiki took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his face.
He smiled.
"So this is the Yoshitsune school?"
"If you're willing to follow Saijo Taiga, you must have trained under him for years, right?"
"I'm just an outsider—someone who knows nothing about swordsmanship. At best, I'm just faster to react. A bit stronger than you."
He stood there without any formal stance, without any technique.
And that, to the disciples of the Yoshitsune school, was the cruelest insult of all.
For the Japanese, to apprentice at a school was a serious commitment. It wasn't just about skills—it was about spirit, legacy, and honor. Years of training turned them into living extensions of the school's will.
They were proud of that.
"You're left-handed, right?" Hayashi Yoshiki suddenly asked one of them.
The man's grip stiffened at the words.
Yoshiki smiled, "Then be careful I don't chop off that left hand."
Elsewhere…
Conan and the others were locked in a desperate fight.
Saijo Taiga had found Hattori Heiji. Due to his injury, he was quickly overpowered. With just a few exchanges, he was forced onto the defensive.
Ran and Kazuha fought back using karate and aikido, moving cautiously.
Meanwhile, Conan kicked over several bonfires and used the burning logs like soccer balls, launching them at the enemy.
But even amidst the chaos, Conan kept glancing toward Hayashi Yoshiki.
And what he saw left him stunned.
"Yoshiki-nii..."
Ran struck a blade away with a sharp kick, staggering her opponent, then followed up with a punch that knocked him out.
She looked up and saw Hayashi Yoshiki surrounded.
"Yoshiki-nii!"
She sprinted forward. As someone attempted to ambush Yoshiki from behind, she leaped into the air—
—and with a sharp crack of breaking wind, her foot connected.
The attacker went flying.
"Ran…"
"You okay, Yoshiki-nii?"
She stood behind him, glaring at the surrounding enemies.
"Yeah. Don't worry," he replied with a soft smile.
But there was no time to talk more. The enemy was already charging again.
"Ha!"
One came slashing in, but Yoshiki blocked it easily with the sword in his left hand.
However, two more came from both sides.
He had to push the front one away and parry quickly—but a blade from the right still tore through his suit, ripping off the cloth and leaving a bloody scratch.
"Tch... Too many at once is still a bit of a problem..."
Then he grinned.
"But here's some news for you."
Another attacker swung—
It was the left-handed man he had warned earlier.
Yoshiki chuckled.
"When we first came here, we didn't call the police. But I left instructions—if we didn't make contact within 20 minutes, someone else would call them."
"Also… I told them where the Buddha statue is hidden."
He smirked.
"Which means... Saijo Taiga and the Yoshitsune school are done for."
"What!?"
"Of course, you guys will all be arrested as accomplices. Oh—and watch your left hand."
As his words sank in, the enemy's guard loosened.
And Hayashi Yoshiki struck.
His blade swung like a baseball bat, with terrifying power.
The enemy's hands went numb—he could barely hold onto his sword.
Panicked, he stumbled backward as Hayashi Yoshiki charged.
His heart pounded.
He tried to stabilize himself and put all his weight on his left hand—for defense.
Yoshiki's right-hand blade came slashing down.
Clang!
The two swords clashed.
And in that moment—
He saw the mocking smile on Hayashi Yoshiki's face.
And felt it—a chill in his abdomen.
Somehow, Hayashi Yoshiki had switched his left-hand weapon to a dagger—
—and stabbed it straight into the man's gut.