Chapter 68: A Day in the Life of Muramasa (VII)

The group ran as fast as they could toward the direction of the gunshot, only to find themselves in an awkward predicament—they couldn’t pinpoint which room the sound had come from.

“Muramasa, Hirata, have either of you found anything?” Watanabe stood at a crossroads, looking somewhat helplessly at the fork ahead. This was only the first intersection, and who knew how many more there were to come? There had only been a single gunshot, so there really weren’t any more clues as to its origin.

Luo Hanya could only force a wry smile. “There’s just no way to be certain. Why don’t we search room by room? Maybe we’ll find something.”

“What else can we do at this point? Let’s do as Muramasa suggests—search slowly,” Hirata agreed, shaking his head in resignation.

“Hey! Why do you always ignore me?” Kimura frowned, clearly displeased as he watched the group of middle-aged men make decisions without him.

Watanabe curled his lip and muttered, “Young people always want to show off. Do you honestly think you can tell where the shot came from?”

“I—” Kimura hesitated for a moment, then said, “Believe it or not, the gunshot came from the dining hall!”

Watanabe looked at Kimura as if he were a fool, then burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “You really dare to say anything, just making up a location out of thin air. What are you basing it on? Anyone can spout nonsense. I could just as well say it came from the bathroom!”

Kimura’s forehead was covered in dark lines, and he reined in his anger. “Watanabe, do you dare to make a bet with me? If I’m right, you have to call me Grandpa. If I’m wrong, you can name any condition, and I’ll accept it!”

“Kimura, you’re too impulsive. That’s no way for a young man to behave. Let’s just check the dining hall first,” Hirata stepped in to play peacemaker again. “And Watanabe, don’t be angry. Kids are always a bit rash.”

Before Hirata had finished, Watanabe agreed. “Fine! I accept. Kimura, if you lose, I won’t ask for anything—I just want you to learn your lesson. Don’t be so cocky, young man!”

“We’ll see!” Kimura scoffed, holding his head high as he led the group toward the dining hall.

While the two bickered, Luo Hanya remained silent, quietly observing Kimura’s eyes. He noticed a steady confidence in Kimura’s gaze, and when Watanabe finally agreed to the bet, there was even a hint of amusement in his eyes. Luo Hanya seemed to understand something and smiled inwardly, as if waiting for Watanabe to make a fool of himself.

After a few minutes, the four of them arrived at the dining hall, only to find nothing amiss. Kimura froze, apparently unable to believe his eyes, while Watanabe burst out laughing, looking as though he was about to gloat.

“Hold on, Watanabe. Do you see that chair over there?” Luo Hanya stopped Watanabe, pointing to a seat not far away. “Look—doesn’t that look like a bullet hole?”

Watanabe was momentarily stunned, then hurried over to examine it. His expression changed dramatically.

“There really is a bullet hole here,” Watanabe admitted bitterly, forced to swallow a reality he had no wish to accept.

Kimura’s eyes lit up. “Watanabe, don’t forget your promise!” He looked at the conflicted Watanabe with a teasing smile. “You’re not thinking of backing out, are you? Well, it doesn’t matter—I can’t make you do it if you really want to renege, but—”

Watanabe’s face flushed bright red, and he angrily cut Kimura off. “Shut up! I, Watanabe Yuichi, stand tall and speak the truth—never a lie! If I must—”

Luo Hanya quickly covered Watanabe’s mouth. “Enough, enough—aren’t you a bit old for this? Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Watanabe immediately wilted, slumping in defeat. Luo Hanya pulled the triumphant Kimura aside and chuckled. “Let’s not dwell on that bet. You didn’t notice the bullet hole when you first walked in either, did you? I was the one who spotted it. So, as a favor to me, shall we let the matter rest?”

Kimura fell silent at these words, casting a slightly aggrieved look at Luo Hanya. “For you, Muramasa, I’ll let it go.”

After this brief episode, the group sat down at a table in the dining hall to discuss their next move.

Hirata spoke first. “I think we should stick together, and it’d be best to find some weapons on this ship for self-defense. There’s someone with a gun on board, and he’s dangerous.”

“We might as well look around here first. This is the dining hall—there should be some knives,” Luo Hanya agreed.

“I think we could also check the storeroom. There should be more weapons there,” Kimura chimed in with his usual confidence, as if he knew every corner of the ship.

Watanabe, no longer dismissive, praised Kimura’s suggestion. “Kimura’s right. We can search the dining hall first, then head to the storeroom.”

Luo Hanya smiled at Watanabe and Kimura. “Let’s get moving.”

The four of them fanned out in the dining hall, searching for anything that could serve as a weapon.

After about ten minutes, they returned to their meeting spot, each looking a bit excited.

“I found two silver knives and five silver forks,” Kimura announced proudly, displaying his haul.

Hirata shrugged helplessly. “I thought I did well, but compared to Kimura, it’s nothing.” He produced two iron forks and a nail from his pocket.

“I—” Watanabe started, but was interrupted by the others’ laughter. “What’s so funny?” he snapped, face turning red again. “I found a big iron shovel! I’ll use it myself—I don’t need you lot to take it!”

Finally, Luo Hanya, like a magician, revealed two kitchen knives with a cheerful grin. “No need to feel embarrassed—two kitchen knives.”

After distributing the weapons, they decided that Hirata and Kimura would each take a kitchen knife, Watanabe would wield the iron shovel, and Luo Hanya would take the knives, forks, and nail.

Luo Hanya was reluctant, but the other three were united in their reasoning: “Muramasa, your physical strength is lacking. Let us handle the heavy firepower.” Luo Hanya, of course, knew what “heavy firepower” really meant—they just wanted him at the back, tossing cutlery. He was hardly pleased, but couldn’t refuse their well-meaning insistence, and accepted with a sigh.

Suddenly, three gunshots rang out in succession, so loud they made the group’s ears ring. This time, the shots seemed much closer. Without exchanging a single glance, the four of them dashed toward the sound in perfect unspoken accord.