It's past six in the afternoon.
The stage for the finals was ready, and in the vast competition-exclusive dojo, audiences were gradually taking their seats.
It soon became a full house.
Roughly counting, there were at least over two thousand people.
In the front row on the south side, seven luxurious seats were arranged in a line, occupied by men who were about fifty or sixty years old, dressed in kendo uniforms, looking composed and exuding an impressive aura.
"Are those the masters of the Seven Great Dojo?"
Shano lifted the curtain of the changing room, gazed over there, "Do you know them all? Have any of them changed in the last five years?"
Junichi shook his head.
"No, it's still them, not a single one has changed. The gray-haired one in the middle and the two next to him were all my father's close friends back in the day, they had a bond formed in life-and-death situations in their youth."
"To be honest, the only ones who had some conflict are the two on the far right, as for the rest, I remember they all had a good relationship with my father too."
"So, besides the unexpected betrayal by those with poor relations, the betrayal from the others seems even more bizarre, doesn't it?"
Shano rubbed his chin, "It's indeed strange, it makes me a bit uneasy."
The human heart is fickle, but it can't just spin 540 degrees in one second."
On this vast sea, only one kind of power can achieve this.
——The power of the Demon.
But... what kind of Devil Fruit could make this possible?
"Look over there."
Junichi suddenly whispered.
Shano followed his gaze.
Over there was the opponent's changing room, the curtain edge had also been lifted at some point, revealing half of a fox mask, staring this way without moving.
To be precise, it was always staring at Junichi.
"I feel like this person seems very concerned about you."
Shano glanced at the younger one, "When you were fighting him this afternoon, did you sense any familiar air from him?"
"I wanted to, but I was sent flying just after bowing, so..."
"Next time, remember to fly slower, maybe you can catch a whiff."
"...Your words really hurt."
————
Time quickly reached seven o'clock.
"This is the special dojo for the Asakura Island Sword Dao Championship, welcome everyone! To the finals of this year's Sword Dao Championship!"
Under the spotlight, the host ascended to the central stage of the dojo, beginning the warm-up segment.
When he finally introduced the two dark horses, especially when mentioning that Shano was from the Sakuraba Dojo.
Many areas of the audience erupted into whispers.
Clearly.
Even after five years, despite the various attempts by the Seven Great Dojo to erase traces, the grandeur of the Sakuraba Dojo is still remembered by many.
Especially the former master, Sakuraba Itsuki.
As the most renowned swordsman on Asakura Island, and the founder of the Sword Dao Championship, he was an idol worshipped by many local residents since more than a decade ago.
Listening to these chaotic murmurs, Junichi's face became complex.
"It's time for you to take the stage, boss."
He glanced at the clock, softly reminding, then rummaged in his pocket, took out a light pink candy, and handed it to Shano.
"What's this?"
"Sakura candy, when I was a kid, attending various large occasions with my father, I'd always be so nervous my hands and feet would shake, and my father would buy me this candy, chewing it in my mouth made me feel much better."
"Just over two thousand people, does this count as a big occasion?"
"Eh?! Doesn't it count?"
"Tsk, country kids really haven't seen much of the world."
Shano tore open the candy wrapper and popped the sakura candy into his mouth.
"There's a filling too, I like it." Chewing as he grabbed the Bamboo Sword, before stepping out of the changing room, he looked at Junichi one last time and smiled, "Aren't you going to cheer me on, say a good luck or something?"
"No need, I believe in you." Junichi said seriously.
"Alright."
Shano paused for a second, then grinned, "Exactly, I never do disappointing things."
Swish!
The curtain was lifted, and the spotlight suddenly shone over.
Among the roars of thousands of cheering spectators, Shano's face remained calm, and he boldly stepped onto the central stage.
"Please."
Shano bowed slightly as a gesture of courtesy and took a standard opening stance.
After all, he practiced Swordsmanship for over a year, while he didn't grasp the flashy moves, he learned these formal things.
However.
After waiting for a while, there was still no response from the White Fox.
The opponent stood there like a statue, not reacting at all.
What was this guy doing?
He furrowed his brow.
Suddenly he heard the opponent's low voice.
"How has Junichi been doing over these years?"
Shano's heart trembled, he abruptly raised his head, looking into the eyes hidden behind the mask.
For the first time, the two were so close.
Under the bright light of the spotlight, he finally saw clearly that the man's irises were deep purple.
Deep purple is rare, but not unheard of.
But ironically...
Junichi's pupils are also deep purple.
"Who exactly are you to Junichi?"
Shano squinted, "Why ask me, hiding like this, if you really want to know, why not ask him face to face?"
"..."
The White Fox did not answer.
He just looked up, coldly gazing at the Radio Snail broadcasting on the wall.
"Hey, what's going on, why aren't they moving?"
"Why is he staring at the camera?"
"What's happening! Are they going to start or not!"
The lack of movement on the stage caused the audience's discontent and complaints to grow.
...
Behind a wide office desk.
The middle-aged man, enjoying the company of beautiful women, suddenly changed his expression upon seeing this scene.
"Bastard!"
He pushed the women aside and stood up, his palms pressed on the table, he stared hard at the screen.
"Is he crazy… at such a critical moment, what does he intend to do! What's going on!"
The tall slender figure on the screen still stood there without moving, quietly staring at the camera.
A strong sense of ominousness gradually rose from the middle-aged man's heart.
"Oh dear, Carpenter, what's the matter, don't get emotional, it's bad for your health, come, let me pour you another drink."
The blonde beauty on the right coyly handed him two glasses of Shirley wine.
"Get lost! All of you get lost!"
Bang! He swept his arm, the glasses shattered on the ground, his roar frightened the women into retreating in terror, curling up in the corner of the sofa.
There was a knock on the door, a bodyguard opened a crack, puzzled:
"Carpenter, what's going on?"
"Prepare the carriage… no! Have the driver bring my motorcycle to the front of the building! I need to get to the arena as fast as possible!"
"Carpenter" quickly donned a trench coat, put on a hat, and under the escort of several bodyguards, rushed to the staircase with large strides.
A moment later.
The engine roared, a modified jet motorcycle sped away, crushing the fallen cherry blossoms on the street.
The surrounding scenery and buildings rushed past, the "Carpenter" tightly gripped the gilded handle, his face under the wide-brimmed black hat was as dark as water.