Chapter 47: The Edge of Sharpness

Miyamoto Isshin could not help but take a step forward.

In the conventional context of a street brawl or a conflict of friction, neither of the two confronting parties would back down. When one side stepped forward, it signified intimidation, and the opposing retaliation should likewise be an aggressive stride, shortening the distance to allow gunpowder and sparks to collide.

At the very instant his body moved, Lin Nian's mind was entirely blank. The action was executed entirely by his body of its own accord, much like how eyes will instinctively shut when grit or a needle flies toward them—a primal perception of threat prompting an evasive maneuver.

He dodged.

Instead of stepping forward, Lin Nian abruptly and unprovokedly sidestepped. The motion was completed in a fraction of a second, with such force that he collided with a nearby dining table, toppling countless sauce containers whose myriad colors mingled on the tablecloth like an art student's palette.

Why did he dodge?

Miyamoto Isshin had merely taken a single step forward in front of him.

"Are you..." Lin Nian pressed both hands against the edge of the table he had crashed into, staring blankly at Miyamoto Isshin beside him. His gaze focused on the other man's hands, but at present, they held nothing, hanging naturally at his sides.

"That kind of reflex." Miyamoto Isshin drew a deep breath, his eyes full of amazement. "I am even more certain now—you are the person I've been looking for!"

Lin Nian was increasingly convinced that this Japanese man had a screw loose. He stepped away from the table, retreating several steps to put some distance between them, and frowned at the inexplicably excited fellow. His own bizarre reaction just now had been entirely groundless; why he had disgracefully sidestepped and slammed into the table was a mystery even to him upon reflection.

"I have to say, you are starting to make me very uncomfortable," Lin Nian frowned and said.

"I take back my previous words. At that children's palace in China, you did indeed learn something very important. That place called the Musashi Kendo Training Center at least enlightened you to the combat consciousness of kendo, introducing you to the most basic 'athletics' and 'combat,' rather than leaving you as an uncarved piece of jade with zero foundation." Miyamoto Isshin took half a step back and bowed meticulously at a ninety-degree angle once more. "It was my slip of the tongue, I am truly sorry!"

Lin Nian was nearly being driven crazy by this Japanese man. With his unprovoked confrontation followed by inexplicable retreats and apologies, Lin Nian still hadn't figured out whether the guy was here to pick a fight or to recruit him. If it were a challenge, there would certainly be no room for such polite deference and apologies; yet if it were recruitment, who on earth would act so patronizingly, claiming right off the bat that only he was fit to be a master while everyone else fell short? Such behavior was simply offensively rude.

"I won't be joining your Kendo Club. To be precise, ever since two years ago—strictly speaking, since the start of high school—I haven't practiced kendo anymore." Lin Nian decided to draw this uncomfortable conversation to a close. "Learning kendo wasn't my initial interest or hobby. If you must know why I ever learned kendo, I can only give you a very cliché answer: because of money."

"Wonderful! Such a pure pursuit!" Far from being disgusted by Lin Nian bringing up "money," Miyamoto Isshin clapped his hands in even greater praise.

"Pure?"

"Miyamoto Musashi killed countless people in his lifetime; for what purpose?" Miyamoto Isshin said. "To kill for the sake of killing, to kill for fame, to kill for beauty—as long as the intent behind the killing is pure, and the purpose of wielding the sword is pure, what does the underlying motive matter? As long as it is pure, that is enough. Only purity allows a person to progress. The original purpose with which you grasped the sword must have been exceedingly pure, which is why it could condense into the you of today, allowing you to retain such sharp insight even after setting aside kendo for so long."

"While nobody dislikes flattery, I'd rather be blunt: I have no idea what you're talking about right now," Lin Nian shook his head. "And I know I have no interest in the current topic. I'm leaving. Tonight's banquet is great, but it would be even better if I could actually fill my stomach."

"Then let's talk about a topic you might be interested in, Lin Nian-kun. What do you think of Caesar Gattuso?"

At these words, Lin Nian, who had been about to turn and stride away, paused for a moment before his foot touched the ground. Seeing this reaction, Miyamoto Isshin nodded and continued, "It seems you do care quite a bit about Caesar Gattuso. Though that was already evident from your arrival at the banquet tonight. I heard you two have already met. May I ask what your first impression of Caesar Gattuso was?"

"First impression?" Lin Nian turned his head.

"I've heard that Caesar Gattuso is a born leader like the sun, but after seeing you tonight, I can hardly imagine any sun that could outshine you." Miyamoto Isshin smiled.

"No, compared to him, I'm far behind," Lin Nian said. "Setting aside the 'S'-class student title—which still feels somewhat unearned to me—I don't think I'm any more exceptional than Caesar Gattuso."

"You are being far too modest," Miyamoto Isshin shook his head. "A man of the sword should always retain a razor-sharp edge."

"I'm just speaking the truth. Background, upbringing, character—he counts as one of the best among the people I've met. The only acquaintances I can recall bringing out to compare with him are at most one or two," Lin Nian said indifferently. "Besides, Mr. Miyamoto Isshin, is it?"

"Just call me Miyamoto," Miyamoto Isshin nodded.

"Alright, Mr. Miyamoto. As the captain of the Student Union's Kendo Club, regarding Caesar Gattuso who is at the zenith of his power, you've only 'heard' of him? Have you not met your soon-to-be inaugurated Student Union President?" Lin Nian asked with a frown.

"Why would I need to meet him?" Miyamoto Isshin asked with a faint smile in return. "Surely Lin Nian-kun knows? In Bushido, the moment enemies meet is the instant victory and defeat are decided. Competitors are better off not seeing each other in daily life."

Competitors?

Lin Nian immediately reacted: "You're the other candidate running against Caesar for Student Union President?"

"Unworthy as I am, that is indeed myself," Miyamoto Isshin lowered his head. "We simply cannot let the presidency fall into the hands of a freshman infant."

"Mr. Miyamoto, you seem to have forgotten one thing," Lin Nian said indifferently. "In a sense, I don't even count as a college freshman."

"That is precisely why I said I hope you will let me carve you myself," Miyamoto Isshin bowed his head. "The Kendo Club needs an uncarved piece of jade like you. I need an uncarved piece of jade like you. Being able to sculpt you with my own hands is the honor of Miyamoto Isshin."

"When I was learning kendo, I also read up on Japanese Bushido. It seems the martial way esteems those of great perseverance and great capability who remain unyielding, yet Mr. Miyamoto gives me the impression of viewing all juniors as raw lumber and uncarved jade, unfit for greatness without carving." Lin Nian's gaze shimmered like water, rippling with the banquet hall's glow. "Those who know me know I always speak my mind, Mr. Miyamoto Isshin. Sometimes, 'carving' is no different from 'hammering down.' Aren't you looking down a bit too much on the younger generation?"

"Youthful as they are, without having weathered wind, frost, snow, and rain, how can one speak of great perseverance or great capability?" Miyamoto Isshin smiled, his gaze calm. "I saw the other department heads of the Student Union coming to recruit you, but they actually went about it all wrong. An 'S'-class student is wonderful—exceptionally wonderful, practically rare in this world—but I feel that it is not the Student Union that needs you, an 'S'-class student, but rather that you need us. I simply do not wish to see a piece of fine, uncarved jade take unnecessary detours."

Lin Nian took a deep breath, turned around, and asked, "Let me ask you a question, Mr. Miyamoto. Were you recruited into Kassel College directly from Japan?"

"Not entirely. There is a branch of Kassel College in Japan, and I am considered an exchange student." Miyamoto Isshin placed his right hand over his chest and bowed slightly. "Allow me to introduce myself again: Miyamoto Isshin, 24 years old, hailing from the Japan Branch, currently a junior at the main campus of Kassel College."

"Then, Mr. Miyamoto, let me ask you: do people from the Japan Branch all look down on others as much as you do?" Lin Nian asked coldly.

He was provoked.

A smile crept onto Miyamoto Isshin's face, but this time, he did not bow ninety degrees in apology. For he understood that no matter how tender or young the boy before him was, he had once studied kendo and was moreover an outstanding talent within it; and a true talent naturally possessed the sharpness belonging to a talent.

Those who genuinely harbor a hidden blade, no matter how much they use worldly tact and an ordinary facade to cover it up in times of peace, will inevitably have that sharpness pierce through their skin when faced with a genuine head-on confrontation, revealing the raw, bleeding truth underneath.

Miyamoto Isshin straightened up, smiling as he looked at Lin Nian, who returned his gaze with chilling eyes. Until this very moment, he had finally succeeded in doing something no one else at Kassel College had yet accomplished: catching a glimpse of the true, razor-sharp edge hidden beneath the protective coloration that invariably enveloped an 'S'-class student.

He was about to witness a true 'S'-class hybrid.