Chapter Sixty-Five: A Day in the Life of Muramasa (IV)

The main quest has been updated: go out to sea and fish with the others.

"The fog is gone?" Luo Hanya turned around and saw that there was nothing behind him, only the beautiful scenery before his eyes. The people who had disappeared earlier were now chatting happily on the pier, looking as if nothing had happened.

Luo Hanya stared in disbelief, feeling that everything before him was somehow unreal. He tentatively asked, "Did any of you see the fog just now?"

"Fog? What fog? It's been sunny here the whole time. Where would the fog come from?" Watanabe was taken aback for a moment, then raised his rough, hoarse voice to answer loudly.

Yamamoto cast Luo Hanya a disdainful glance, his tone mocking as he sneered, "That's right, Muramasa, did you hit your head earlier? Still not thinking straight? Knocked yourself silly? Hah!"

"Muramasa, there really hasn't been any fog here at all. Are you seeing things? Was it that fall you took just now?" Hirata frowned, concern in his eyes as he spoke.

"It's nothing, nothing, just making a joke, that's all. Ha ha." Inside, Luo Hanya's emotions surged, but he kept his expression calm, brushing it off with a laugh to divert their attention.

Though Luo Hanya wished to drop the subject, Yamamoto was not so willing. He lifted his chin arrogantly and shot Luo Hanya a sidelong glance, as if a king regarding a lowly beggar. "Muramasa, could you stop making these pointless jokes from now on? If you want everyone's attention, just say so—don't play these little tricks every day." With that, Yamamoto took two steps forward until he was right next to Luo Hanya. Leaning in, he wore a cruel expression as he whispered in Luo Hanya's ear, "Scum like you don't deserve to live in this world."

Luo Hanya clenched his fist in secret, staring back at him with cold fury, his voice low and hellish. "Is that so? I'd like to see who dies first." With that, Luo Hanya burst into laughter, threw an arm around Yamamoto's neck, and laughed aloud, "Yamamoto, you really have a sense of humor."

"You—" Yamamoto shook off Luo Hanya’s arm and, not to be outdone, drew a finger across his throat in a cutting gesture, licking his lips. "Muramasa, your joke is even funnier. Ha ha ha."

Luo Hanya forced a bitter smile, feeling even more aggrieved. He hadn't expected himself to be so weak. No—he hadn't expected Muramasa to be so weak. The physical condition of this body was abysmal; even with his own martial skills, he was no match for Yamamoto.

Luo Hanya suppressed his frustration and smiled as if nothing was wrong, but inside he had turned utterly cold. "One doesn't always need to kill with one's own hands," he thought, a chilly smile curling in his heart. "Yamamoto, you are doomed."

But as the thought flashed through his mind, Luo Hanya was immediately alarmed. "Why am I being influenced again? Damn it, how can a mere string of data sway my will? Is this really still just a game? Why is this happening?"

"Come on, the weather's perfect—let's take the boat out," Hirata said, sensing the tension and trying to mediate the conflict. For some reason, whenever Hirata spoke, Luo Hanya felt his heart calm and his impulses fade. But Yamamoto’s words seemed to stir up restless thoughts, influencing him against his will.

"Let's go. It's such a good day—fishing from a boat will be great! Ha ha, I grew up by the sea, fishing is my specialty," the driver exclaimed, eyes shining like an excited child.

Yamamoto snorted, waggling his index finger at Luo Hanya, as if to say, "You won’t even manage to fish."

Luo Hanya responded in kind, grinning as he raised his middle finger at Yamamoto, meeting provocation with provocation.

About half an hour later, the group boarded a traditional local boat and drifted away from shore. The vessel was somewhat odd; in the center stood a mast topped by a ram’s head, its red eyes fierce and eerie. At both the bow and stern were large wooden discs, seemingly for storing things.

For reasons he couldn't name, from the moment he boarded, Luo Hanya felt as if a gaze was fixed upon him, watching his every move. But after a while, he relaxed—people often felt watched when nervous. This nightmare-level scenario was indeed unlike any before; though he'd grown accustomed to the game, the sense of pressure was overwhelming.

The boat drifted onward, stopping more than ten nautical miles from shore. The group spread out their food, and the fishing enthusiasts eagerly cast their lines.

Yamamoto was in no hurry to fish. He fixed his gaze on Luo Hanya, as if waiting for him to embarrass himself. "Well, what can I say? Our protagonist really doesn't know sea fishing. If it were a small pond, Luo Hanya had fished a few times. But as for sea fishing, he'd only ever seen it once or twice."

Still, there was nothing to be done but to bite the bullet. Luo Hanya gritted his teeth, planted his feet apart with his left leg forward, turned his left side to the water, drew back both arms with the fishing rod, and imitated the stance he’d seen before, making a cast. His luck seemed good—the cast was passable.

Yamamoto snorted at the sight of Luo Hanya’s form, not missing the chance to sneer. "Muramasa, do you even know how to fish? Want me to teach you?"

"Yamamoto! You’ve been in major competitions—Muramasa barely ever comes to the sea. What are you trying to prove?" Hirata stepped in, unable to stand Yamamoto’s taunting.

Yamamoto cast his line with flair, executing a perfect professional 360-degree throw. The move was smooth and impressive, leaving Luo Hanya in the dust. Yamamoto cocked his head at Luo Hanya and said, "See that? That’s what you call skill. Muramasa, next time pick your opponent more carefully—don’t just set yourself up for humiliation."

At that moment, Luo Hanya felt his emotions raging, as if he would explode any second. In his mind, a voice repeated, "Kill him! Kill him! Why is he better than you? Kill him!"

"Damn it! I am Luo Hanya! I am not Muramasa! I will not be controlled by you!" Luo Hanya howled inwardly, fighting against the will that seemed to be invading his mind.

Hirata called Yamamoto off just in time, holding back the panting Luo Hanya, his tone gentle but full of meaning. "Muramasa, you need to find yourself again. You can’t keep going on like this."