Chapter 899

The meeting between the two looked as though they were auditioning for a historical Japanese drama.

Noriko Sato—or, as she now insisted on calling herself, Noriko Ashina—knelt before her visitor in an elaborate display of feudal courtesy.

"Please, Lieutenant Saemon, there’s no need for such formalities."

The man stepped forward and personally helped her to her feet.

Noriko was stunned.

In her experience, the distinguished gentleman before her, who used the alias Murakami, rarely showed such consideration to anyone. Even people of considerably greater standing than herself were usually rewarded with little more than an indifferent nod when they bowed to him. Sometimes, he didn’t even acknowledge them.

And now he was bending down to help her stand?

Something was clearly wrong.

When a man of his stature went out of his way to show someone respect, he usually wanted something in return.

But what could a member of the nobility possibly want from her?

Surely he wasn’t interested in her romantically.

Noriko was young and attractive, but she wasn’t some legendary beauty capable of bringing kingdoms to their knees. More importantly, the gap between their bloodlines and social standing was enormous.

Her claim to the title of Lord of Aizu might have sounded impressive, and her ancestors had indeed ruled a small domain. Compared with the man standing before her, however, her family was insignificant, both in the present and throughout history.

The man she knew as Murakami was one of the Five Fingers of the Hand, an organization whose influence inspired fear throughout the criminal underworld, particularly in Japan.

Noriko, by comparison, ran a small but promising organization. Her people were competent, and her operation was respectable enough, but Japan had countless groups of similar size. There was nothing about her organization that should have attracted the attention of someone like him.

And the historical comparison was even worse.

Murakami’s real name was Uesugi Shigefusa.

The Uesugi clan descended from the powerful Fujiwara family, one of the great aristocratic lineages of Japan. Shigefusa had been the clan’s first head, a man of considerable prestige during the Kamakura shogunate.

Over the centuries, the Uesugi had expanded their influence and married into the family of the Ashikaga shoguns. One branch eventually held the office of Kantō Kanrei, overseeing the powerful daimyō of the ten provinces of the Kantō region.

Although the clan later declined, its legacy remained formidable. It had even adopted Nagao Kagetora, a woman who would later become famous as Uesugi Kenshin, the Dragon of Echigo.

Noriko’s ancestors had been little more than minor lords in the northern reaches of Japan. Worse, the Ashina family’s reputation for seizing power through treachery had been notorious. Their claims of noble descent were dubious at best, and their supposed title of Lord of Aizu had never received official recognition from the shogunate.

To someone as concerned with lineage as Uesugi Shigefusa, her family was probably little better than commoners.

The only reason the Uesugi had continued to look after the Ashina was an old debt. Her ancestors had entrusted them with a valuable secret, and Shigefusa had quietly repaid that favor over the generations.

Without his protection, the Ashina family might have been wiped out when the Tokugawa forces invaded.

"Lord Uesugi, please enjoy some tea."

"Just call me Murakami. I would be delighted to experience the Ashina family’s tea ceremony."

Noriko bowed.

People of high standing apparently found it impossible to get straight to the point. Before discussing anything important, they had to exchange courtesies, observe ancient customs, and drink tea.

And this was no simple matter of pouring hot water over leaves and drinking the result.

Judging by Noriko’s preparations, she intended to follow the elaborate version of the tea ceremony practiced before Sen no Rikyū simplified it.

In other words, after inviting him to enjoy some tea, she would probably make him wait nearly an hour before he could take his first sip.

Murakami settled onto the floor, folding his legs into a cross-legged position with the soles of his feet facing each other and his knees spread outward. Apparently, the posture was meant to convey aristocratic dignity.

Whether it actually accomplished that was debatable.

What Murakami knew for certain was that, despite his considerable cultivation, sitting like this felt remarkably similar to being tortured.

Could none of you people adapt to the modern age? Do I really look like someone who cares that much about etiquette?

If he did, he would have needed to blacken his teeth and shave his eyebrows before attending this meeting.

Unfortunately, he had business to conduct, and business sometimes required a man to suffer.

He hadn’t sat this way in at least a century.

His thighs were already threatening to cramp.

"Is something wrong, Lord Murakami?" Noriko asked anxiously.

She was kneeling before a small charcoal brazier, having drawn fresh water from the well, filtered it, and poured it into a ceramic kettle. She had just begun preparing to clean the tea utensils when she noticed his strained expression.

Murakami awkwardly produced a folding fan decorated with a bat motif and raised it to cover the lower half of his face.

"Nothing at all. Your water is excellent, but perhaps we should use my tea and utensils instead."

He had little choice.

He couldn’t very well admit that the first head of the illustrious Uesugi clan, a paragon of aristocratic refinement, was on the verge of losing the ability to feel his legs after less than ten minutes of sitting properly.

"My preparations were inadequate. Please forgive me."

Noriko bowed deeply.

Tea ceremonies had once been matters of extreme seriousness. A guest who drank too much, a host who poured incorrectly, or an attendant who presented a cup at the wrong angle could provoke an offended samurai into drawing his sword.

Sometimes the consequences were fatal.

And now she had offered a guest of Uesugi Shigefusa’s stature inferior tea leaves and utensils.

It was a grave embarrassment.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t exactly been able to acquire a collection of priceless antiques simply because she had arranged to share a cup of tea with him.

She couldn’t sell herself into slavery just to prepare the proper refreshments.

"Don’t concern yourself with it."

Murakami tapped his folding fan against his palm.

At once, a black-clad ninja of the Hand dropped from above, carefully carrying a wooden box.

The ninja approached the entrance, intending to deliver it.

Before he could do so, Murakami abruptly sprang to his feet and strode over to collect the box himself.

The ninja stared after him, thoroughly bewildered.

Murakami returned to his place with the box in his hands, but he didn’t sit down immediately.

Noriko guessed that it must contain extraordinarily valuable tea utensils. Whatever lay inside, it had clearly put him in a serious mood.

After a long moment, Murakami gritted his teeth and lowered himself back onto the floor.

He opened the box slowly and removed a small tea caddy.

It was black, worn, and unremarkable in appearance.

Noriko recognized it immediately.

"Little Eggplant?! Is that really the famous tea caddy that was said to be valuable enough to finance the construction of an entire castle if sold?"

Murakami nodded.

"Indeed."

He then removed another object from the box: a complete set of tea utensils.

The centerpiece looked rather ugly, resembling a spider crawling across the floor.

Noriko drew a sharp breath.

"Could this be... the Hiragumo? The legendary tea vessel that Lord Nobunaga coveted but never managed to obtain?"

She stared at it in disbelief.

"It’s said that Matsunaga Hisahide burned himself to death alongside the Hiragumo. I never imagined it had survived, let alone that it would end up in your possession."

She bowed her head.

"Of course, only utensils of this caliber could be worthy of your status."

Her amazement soon gave way to unease.

The Little Eggplant and the Hiragumo were treasures worthy of a man like Uesugi Shigefusa. But what had she done to deserve the privilege of drinking tea with him using such priceless objects?

With the tea leaves and utensils finally prepared, the ceremony could begin.

What followed was an extended sequence of rinsing, cleaning, pouring, wiping, and arranging.

There was little point in describing every step. If all the details of a traditional tea ceremony were recorded, the resulting account would be long enough to make even the most patient reader consider committing a crime.

Suffice it to say that both men endured nearly an hour of elaborate preparation before they were finally permitted to lift their tiny cups and take a sip.

Only then did Murakami finally state the purpose of his visit.

"Noriko Ashina, Lord of Aizu."

"Yes?"

"I have come to inform you that the relationship of subordination between our families is to end. From this day forward, the Ashina family will no longer be required to serve me."

Noriko stared at him.

For a moment, she looked merely surprised.

Then her expression turned to outright panic.

"W-what?"

At first glance, the prospect of no longer having a superior seemed wonderful. No more obligations, no more deference, no more answering to someone else’s authority.

But that was only one side of the arrangement.

Losing a superior also meant losing their protection.

It was like working for a company, complaining about the boss every day, and then discovering how little fun it was to be fired.

"Why?" Noriko leaned forward, unable to conceal her distress. "The Ashina family has always upheld the loyalty of the warrior class. Even during the upheaval caused by the invasion of the Tokugawa, we never dared entertain ambitions beyond our station. Why would the nobility abandon us now?"

Murakami nodded gravely.

He was well aware of the Ashina family’s loyalty.

After all, since the family had established its domain, it had been beaten down by the Hōjō, then the Date, and finally the Tokugawa. The Ashina had barely enjoyed a moment of glory. They had never been in a position to entertain serious ambitions of their own.

Their loyalty had hardly been tested by the opportunity to seize power.

"However," Murakami continued calmly, "this decision was not mine alone. The Five Fingers of the Hand discussed the matter and reached a collective agreement."

Noriko went pale.

All five of them?

She couldn’t imagine what she had done to earn the displeasure of the entire organization. Had she committed some terrible offense without realizing it? Had her family somehow violated an ancient obligation?

"Don’t overthink it."

Murakami lifted his cup, blew gently across the surface, and took another small sip.

"Someone has taken an interest in you. They specifically requested that you join them, and we have no choice but to comply."

"Who?" Noriko asked, raising her head. "SHIELD?"

The organization had attempted to recruit her several times, only to be refused on each occasion.

Had they still not given up?

If SHIELD was behind this, the Hand certainly wouldn’t be able to oppose it merely to retain her services.

"No. Not SHIELD."

Murakami set down his cup and reached inside his clothing.

He produced a black business card and slid it across the table.

Noriko picked it up and examined the name.

"The Black Chapter?"

She frowned.

"They’ve existed for less than a year. How can they already pose a threat to the Hand?"

Murakami gave a cold laugh and shook his head.

"Threaten us? Their capabilities extend far beyond that. Their resources, influence, and power are things we can scarcely imagine."

He leaned forward.

"And for you, this may be a blessing. If you join them, you might finally accomplish the ambition your family has pursued for generations."

Noriko’s fingers tightened around the card.

"My family’s ambition..."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Lord Genichiro... the resurrection of the Dragon’s Heritage?"

She looked up sharply.

"They can truly accomplish it?"

The Hand’s central purpose was to serve life itself.

Put more plainly, its members sought immortality.

Long ago, the Five Fingers had trained in the hidden realm of Kunlun, acquiring extraordinary abilities and obtaining the power of life from a divine dragon. Through that power, they had achieved longevity beyond the natural limits of human existence.

They had even learned a secret art capable of restoring the dead to life.

But such miracles came at a price.

The resources required for resurrection could only be obtained from the dragon. After the Five Fingers were expelled from Kunlun, they lost access to it, and the supplies they had brought with them gradually dwindled.

Then something remarkable happened.

For reasons unknown, a divine dragon suffered a grievous injury and sought refuge in a place where spiritual energy gathered in abundance.

That place was near Ashina, in Japan.

The dragon became known as the Sakura Dragon.

To heal itself, the Sakura Dragon released a mysterious power called the Dragon’s Heritage.

Those touched by this power acquired a form of immortality. Even wounds that should have killed them could be overcome, allowing them to return to life in an astonishingly short time.

But resurrection demanded payment.

The Dragon’s Heritage absorbed the life force of those nearby, draining the vitality of others to restore its bearer.

The Sakura Dragon had been using the slaughter committed by those who carried its power to replenish its own strength.

The Dragon’s Heritage was therefore not a blessing but a curse. Most of its bearers eventually lost themselves to its influence, descending into a path of slaughter and madness that ended in the demonic existence known as Shura.

The Hand didn’t care.

When its members discovered the Dragon’s Heritage, they had been ecstatic. Here was a power that might allow them to overcome the limitations of their own resurrection techniques.

The Ashina family had played a critical role in their discovery.

Ashina Isshin had managed to seize control of his homeland with the Hand’s assistance after presenting the organization with the results of his family’s long research into the Dragon’s Heritage.

The Hand had also helped train the family’s later generation of guardian shinobi, the Hawks.

But neither the Ashina nor the Hand had ever managed to fully understand the Dragon’s Heritage.

Then, after recovering from its injuries, the Sakura Dragon had departed.

No one knew where it had gone.

Without access to the dragon, further research had become nearly impossible.

When the Ashina family finally fell, however, its last hope had survived.

The family’s princess, the younger sister of Ashina Genichiro, had concealed her identity by posing as a maid and physician serving Ashina Isshin. Through this deception, she had eventually gained the trust of Kuro, the Divine Heir and living vessel of the Dragon’s Heritage.

And then, without Kuro’s knowledge, she had left behind a child.

That child had become the ancestor of Noriko’s branch of the Ashina family.

This was why the Hand had continued to protect Noriko’s family over the generations.

It wasn’t merely out of respect for an old debt.

Every member of the family carried the blood of the Dragon’s Heritage.

They had waited for generations, hoping that one day a true bearer would emerge from their bloodline.

So far, none had.

"Yes," Murakami said solemnly. "They can."

Perhaps the Hand’s ambitions had always been too grand. Perhaps its members simply lacked the necessary ability.

But those two individuals...

That organization...

If anyone could make the resurrection of the Dragon’s Heritage possible, it would be them.

Noriko lowered her head in a deep bow.

"I understand. I will accept their offer."

Her voice grew firm.

"And I will uncover every secret the Black Chapter possesses. I swear I won’t disappoint you."

Murakami nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Absolutely not!"

His sudden outburst startled Noriko.

Within the Hand, only the elderly Gao and Murakami himself had met the twins in person. And Murakami’s reaction to that encounter had been even worse than Gao’s initial response.

The twins were an overwhelming combination of terror and despair.

They were not people one could afford to oppose.

Not under any circumstances.

"You must not entertain such thoughts!" Murakami said urgently. "When you join them, you will serve them faithfully. Demonstrate the loyalty expected of a warrior of your standing. Treat your new master as you have treated me."

He paused, then corrected himself.

"No. You must serve them even more faithfully than you have served me."

He chose his next words with great care.

"From this day forward, the Ashina family and I have no further ties. We must never again have anything to do with one another."

His expression turned severe.

"And whatever you do, don’t create unnecessary trouble. If you wish to throw your life away, that’s your choice. But I have no desire to die with you."

Still, he wasn’t particularly worried.

Once Noriko met those two individuals herself, she would understand.

No one who had seen them could seriously contemplate rebellion.