I’m Really Unnerved In Tokyo

"I like drawing these disgusting broken paintings so much... go to hell and paint slowly!"

Not giving this weird man any more chances, Mochizuki turned into an afterimage and dodged behind the man, piercing his dark right arm from his back to his chest.

"Disgusting?! It seems that you, like those vulgar people, don't know how to appreciate real art..."

Even though Mochizuki's arm passed through his body, the man's head turned 180 degrees strangely, and the six big eyes split like chrysanthemums stared at him nervously at close range.

"...Only by using bones as pens, human skin as paper, and blood as ink, and injecting a blooming soul, can you create works that shock the soul!"

"How could it be possible... to be able to deceive the false pupils of the Hundred Eyes? This is not a way of blinding the eyes. Could it be that this guy can distort the space here?"

Facing the terrifying man in front of him at close range, Mochiueche was surprised to find that...

The punch I just had didn't feel any real feeling, as if I hit the moon in a mirror in the water, and the kimono on the opponent's body didn't even have a wrinkle.

"Forget it, how can ordinary people know how to appreciate, what is an ukiyo-e with a soul!"

As if he was not in the same space as Mochizuki, the man turned his head back gracefully, without being hindered at all by the arm passing through his chest.

His body, which had not turned around from the beginning to the end, held a bone pen and smacked it into the gray stone bowl on the desk, grinding the "ink" in it.

Mochiueche's eyes blurred, and he found himself appearing in the other corner of the platform as if teleported.

"Your Majesty Tokugawa Yoshida is not talented in his youth, please appreciate my youthful work, "Hundreds of Kui Inscriptions"!"

As soon as he finished speaking, several extremely gorgeous screens covered with paintings rose from the smooth platform under his feet, trapping him like a cage.

"... After verifying these paintings, you must also feel the greatness of art. Like those people, you are willing to join my work."

After all this was done, the man who called himself "Tokugawa Yoshinen" ignored Mochizuki Che, and slowly sat back in front of the drawing table, and began to draw his pen and ideas on the blank drawing paper again.

"boom!"

The screens that suddenly appeared up, down, left, and right were completely sealed inside like a coffin, and Wang Yueche punched one of the screens hard.

However, the thin layer of gray-white breath on the screen was surging, and it received his heavy punch intact.

"Tsk, the power of ghosts and gods?"

At the same time, on the inside of the screen covered with hundreds of paintings, countless men in armor and holding swords and dressed as warriors have crawled out of the paintings hideously, forming an encirclement in a very orderly manner.

"It seems that some high-end goods have been sent out?"

Surrounded by these men dressed as warriors in a small space, Mochizuki Che also showed a cautious expression.

It was different from the ghosts who were vulnerable to his punches all the way down.

The warriors walking out of these paintings have sharp eyes and a calm demeanor.

Just by resting his hand on the hilt of the sword, he gave off a sharp and painful aura of shaving.

Mochizuki Che had never felt this kind of murderous aura honed from mountains of corpses and seas of blood from Master Fan of those kendo gyms in Tokyo.

"Zheng."

Without any words, several streaks of light flashed, attacking all the vital points of his body.

The warriors in the front row drew their swords quietly.

Meditation flow, Xinyin flow, Shinto non-thought flow, straight mind shadow flow, thought flow, Yin flow, Xindang flow...

Just from these unavoidable and tempered sword movements, one can get a glimpse of the essence of dozens of different schools of kendo.

However, unlike modern kendo gyms that focus on skills, this is the purest, most simple, complex and simple way of killing swords.

Because, on the battlefield where life and death are fought, no matter how talented a warrior is, he often only has one chance to swing his sword.

Wangyueche held his breath and threw out a punch without fear, knowing that there was no way to avoid it, and he planned to attack against attack and make a quick decision...

Facing his punch that was powerful enough to explode ghosts, the warriors in the front row had no intention of dodging at all, but focused on cutting out the extremely wonderful sword light.

Ziyan Ghost Claw overlapped with Wangyueche's left arm, and intertwined with the blade glow, bringing out a sound of gold and iron.

The bodies of the closest warriors were torn apart by the ghost's claws without any accident.

"Hiss...not good..."

Seeming to have encountered something incredible, Wang Yueche's pupils contracted violently, and he quickly retracted his fists and retreated, stepping on the screen to use his strength to avoid the subsequent several knife lights.

Because, on his supposedly indestructible right arm, there were several knife cuts with deep bone visible.

"Hey, I wanted to keep it at first, but it seems that I'm going to make a real move ahead of time."

At this time, he noticed that a trace of similar gray aura was lingering on the swords of the warriors.

The warrior was obviously "drawn" by that weird man, not only inherited the battle-hardened spirit, but also brought a trace of genuine power of ghosts and gods!

Just relying on the realm of ghosts and gods to suppress them, these sword glows are enough to break through his bodyguard Ziyan.

"The power of ghosts and gods, do you think you have it?! Ohhhhhh..."

Wangyueche's whole body was filled with gray energy, intersecting with the purple flame and soaring into the sky, his whole body trembled violently as if he was enduring extreme pain.

With his human body, he has aroused a lot of power of ghosts and gods.

However, the warriors in front of him did not intend to give him a chance to breathe.

The samurai in the front row retreated with one blow, and the samurai in the back row stepped forward immediately, handing out the light of the knife seamlessly, while ensuring uninterrupted slashing, at the same time slowly eating away at Mochizuki Che's few dodges. space.

Although they are warriors who use different schools of swordsmanship and knives of different lengths, they are like a battle-tested and tacitly coordinated Shinsengumi battle formation.

These kendo masters sleeping in the battlefield gathered together across time and space, and turned into a meat grinder that ruthlessly swallowed life in a small space.

Although historically, the samurai battle formation vigorously cultivated by the shogunate was brutally humiliated and defeated by the Sa Changlian Western-style new army armed with rifles and lined up in the Battle of Fushimi Toba.

But no one can deny the samurai's ability to fight hand-to-hand in a small space.

The dense sword light with the power of ghosts and gods, like a silent drizzle, kept agitating with the gray-purple flames on Wang Yueche's body shield, leaving bloodstains one after another.

"With this little strength, are you planning to tickle me?"

Faced with such a situation, Mochizuki, whose whole body was drenched in blood, was aroused to be fierce.

Obviously there are fewer enemies and more enemies, but he relies on his powerful ghost claws to break through tricks with strength and exchange injuries for injuries.

However, whenever a samurai was torn apart under the claws of a ghost, he himself would pay the price with several fine knife wounds.

What Mochizuki didn't know was that when he was trapped inside the screen and engaged in the "Iron Cage Life and Death Battle" with those warriors...

A moon-shaped platform rises from bottom to top like an elevator, and fits perfectly with the periphery of the platform he is on.

On the platform, two figures of a man and a woman could be vaguely seen.