Chapter 26: The Swordsman Yuma Haruto

Haruto stepped back, his left hand raised in a semi-crouched defensive stance.

A sharp crack echoed through the room, followed by a muffled groan as he stumbled backward. His left forearm was twisted at a ghastly angle—the blow from the baseball bat had snapped his bone.

Haruto’s face went pale. Clutching his mangled arm, he retreated from the fray, a flicker of panic flashing in his eyes as he looked at his limb. For a swordsman, the arms are vital; even the left, if compromised, severely impacts the power and precision of every strike. He had never imagined that Li Zhitian would harbor such murderous intent. If he hadn't blocked that blow with his left arm, the club would have surely shattered his skull.

Li Zhitian swung his bat, walking toward the injured Haruto with a smirk. "What’s wrong? Is our great swordsman finished? Don't tell me you’re useless if you can't hold a blade! I’ve wanted to teach you a lesson for a long time. Did you really think you were the greatest swordsman? You idiot..."

Li Zhitian held his head high. Ever since Haruto was dubbed the "greatest in the sports department," a thorn had been buried deep in Li’s heart. With the collapse of law and order in the apocalypse, his long-standing resentment finally boiled over. The others simply stood by to watch the spectacle, or rather, they had all sided with Li Zhitian.

Competitive athletes are driven by a desire to be the best, and Haruto had dominated them all since his arrival. The fact that he was half-Japanese only made it harder for them to accept being outclassed by a "little Jap."

Haruto, sweating profusely from the pain, looked at the companions he had struggled alongside in this apocalypse. He had thought that his earnest efforts might change their perception of him, but he realized now how naive he had been. Since childhood, he had been acutely aware of how his peers viewed him. Some approached out of curiosity, others to exploit him for benefits, but most watched him from afar through colored glasses, as if he were a thief. He hated that feeling. He didn't understand—he had worked several times harder than anyone else to earn their approval, trying to be the best at everything, yet it only fueled their hostility.

Li Zhitian looked with disgust at the sorrow in Haruto’s eyes. His shrill voice pierced Haruto’s heart: "You shouldn't have come to China. Why don't you go back to your island? Though, who knows if it hasn't already been wiped out by zombies!"

"Haha!" Li Zhitian looked back at the other students, and they joined in his laughter, as if they could already see the island nation in ruins.

Rage blazed in Haruto’s eyes. "Shut up! You are not allowed to insult my people!"

"Your people? Haven't you taken your mother's surname? What's the matter? You bear a Chinese name, but deep down you think you have Japanese blood? You mongrel! Ptooey!" Li Zhitian’s words were deeply insulting, enough to make Haruto tremble with fury.

Even the others behind him felt Li Zhitian had gone too far; the laughter died down. The timid ones even began to shrink back into the crowd.

"You... Li Zhitian, you have insulted my nation. I challenge you to a duel!" Haruto, raised to be polite his entire life, felt his face flush and his eyes redden. He dropped his left hand and looked sternly at the stunned Li Zhitian.

"What did you say?"

Haruto repeated firmly, "Li Zhitian, you have insulted my heritage. I, Yuma Haruto, formally challenge you!"

Li Zhitian’s eyes darted around before he broke into a laugh, pointing his bat at Haruto. "Fine, I accept your challenge. But if you die, don't blame me!"

If Haruto had been holding his sword, Li Zhitian wouldn't have dared to fight him in a million years. But now, Haruto was unarmed and his left arm was broken. More importantly, Li Zhitian was not the same man he was before the apocalypse. Having been exposed to the rain, he had discovered during their flight that his speed had increased dramatically—he could sprint a hundred meters in under six seconds. This was why he dared to provoke Haruto and why he was confident he could kill him.

Haruto stood firm, though the pain in his arm made it difficult to remain upright. Even knowing he was no match for Li, he considered both China and Japan his homelands, and he would not allow anyone to insult them.

The battle was imminent. Those watching observed the standoff, with Li’s close associates loudly placing bets, while the majority remained silent observers. There was no formal leader here, but Haruto and Li Zhitian were the de facto heads due to their combat prowess. Their clashing personalities often led to friction. Li Zhitian had long wanted to eliminate Haruto to take total control of the basement, and today was the perfect opportunity.

"It seems I arrived at a bad time."

The tension between the two grew, their muscles coiled to the breaking point. Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, a lazy voice cut through the air, shattering the tension.

Everyone turned to see a man leaning against the door behind Haruto. He was draped in a tracksuit, his bare upper body wrapped in gauze. Perhaps due to the exertion, the bandages were beginning to seep with fresh blood. Jiang Yi leaned against the wall, struggling but unfazed, and began to walk forward step by step. He gripped a pitch-black Tang sword; a long leather strap hung from the hilt, its metal claw dragging against the floor with a teeth-gritting screech.

Haruto looked back at Jiang Yi and gave a bitter smile. "Why did you come out?"

Jiang Yi’s eyes fell on Haruto’s broken arm. He remained expressionless, ignoring the question and turning his gaze toward Li Zhitian and the crowd.

The others couldn't figure out the newcomer's intentions, but Jiang Yi suddenly flashed an innocent smile. "I heard you want this sword?" He held the sword upright in front of him with his left hand.

At the sight of the blade, everyone’s eyes lit up. Li Zhitian instinctively stepped forward, greed flashing in his eyes. "That's right. A cripple like you is just wasting such a blade. Give it to me! I promise you can stay here; you won't have to go out for supplies, and I’ll even ensure you get two meals a day!"

They were all elite athletes; even if they weren't experts in weaponry, they knew a high-quality item when they saw one. While the gymnasium wasn't short on weapons, Jiang Yi’s black blade was clearly superior. Greed was visible in everyone's eyes, but no one dared compete with Li Zhitian.

Jiang Yi scanned the crowd and his expression turned cold. "Oh, is that so?"

He gave his left hand a sharp shake, and the scabbard fell away, revealing a blade of shimmering black light. It was breathtaking. The onlookers gasped; even from a distance, they could feel the lethality of the steel.

Li Zhitian’s greed was nearly uncontrollable. Jiang Yi saw the look on his face and chuckled. "Don't be so impatient. You probably don't know its power yet. Why don't I let you experience it?"

Li Zhitian breathed heavily. "Stop the chatter. I'll test it myself. Hand it over!"

Jiang Yi ignored him and looked at the hesitant Haruto, suddenly tossing the sword to him. Haruto, who had risked everyone’s ire to return the sword to Jiang Yi, was stunned to see him throwing it away again. It was as if the blade itself were crying.

A black shadow flashed before his eyes. Instinctively, Haruto caught it with his right hand. Looking down at the black blade, he saw ripples on the steel like ocean waves, possessing a mysterious allure that nearly drew his soul in.

"Jiang Yi, what is the meaning of this?" Haruto asked, confused.

Jiang Yi leaned carefully against the wall and nodded toward the incredulous Li Zhitian. "Aren't you about to duel him? Then go ahead and show him my blade properly!"

The crowd was stunned. When it finally registered, Li Zhitian roared in fury, "You little brat, you dare play me for a fool? Are you looking to die?"

Haruto suddenly smiled. He swung his right arm, the black blade pointing at the floor. "Li Zhitian, come!"

Li Zhitian paused, glancing warily at Haruto with the sword. The Haruto he feared seemed to have come back to life.

Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "Little Jap, don't think a sword makes you invincible! Die!" He vanished in a blur of speed, rushing at Haruto and swinging his club with a whistle.

Jiang Yi narrowed his eyes. *A speed-type ability? Haruto is in trouble.*

*Hum!* Haruto’s eyes tracked Li Zhitian’s movement. He raised his right hand and brought the blade down, cleaving through the incoming bat!

His hand sank slightly, then the resistance vanished. Li Zhitian’s momentum stalled, and the severed half of his baseball bat clattered to the ground with a sharp, jarring sound. The crowd sucked in their breath.

"How is this possible!" Seeing Haruto’s blade sweep toward him, Li Zhitian let out a roar and dropped the remaining piece of the bat. Haruto, having completed the motion, lunged forward with a follow-up strike, stopping the blade steadily in mid-air.

Li Zhitian looked up in terror, watching the edge that had just shorn off a lock of his hair. His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor.