My Gang of Swordsmen

Chapter 468: Chapter 166: Mr. Tachibana! Let’s Try Western Women Together! [7100]

Shimizu Eiichi looked in shock at the Scythe Weasel who suddenly erupted, and then instinctively looked over at Rakshasa.

Rakshasa’s reaction... was extremely calm.

He calmly raised his gaze and met the eyes of the Scythe Weasel, who was looking down at him, his expression indifferent, as if he had already anticipated this response from the Scythe Weasel.

"Why should you take orders from me?" Rakshasa softly repeated the challenge the Scythe Weasel had just issued, "Because you inadvertently made a mistake and were transferred by Lord Orochi to serve under me. Is that reason enough?"

"Stop using Lord Orochi to oppress me!" The Scythe Weasel impatiently waved his large hand, and the blue veins bulged at the side of his neck due to the intensity of his roar. "I only obey the orders of Lord Orochi and Lord Ōtakemaru! Except for these two lords, no matter if your status is higher or your strength is greater, keep your hands off me!"

The Scythe Weasel’s roaring grew louder and louder, making the atmosphere in the tea room increasingly tense and confrontational.

Faced with this sudden upheaval, Shimizu Eiichi could hardly conceal the deepening shock on his cheeks.

The time when Shimizu Eiichi first met the Scythe Weasel wasn’t much earlier than when Shinno left; it was only this morning that he met the Scythe Weasel for the first time.

As they had just met not long ago, Shimizu Eiichi, unfamiliar with the Scythe Weasel, was caught off guard by his extremely volatile temper.

After glancing at the Scythe Weasel and then Rakshasa, Shimizu Eiichi wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

The conflicts among the leaders of the Law Punishment Faction... were not matters he could intervene in.

After the Scythe Weasel’s angry roar subsided, the tea room fell into a brief, graveyard-like silence.

Rakshasa, still calm in expression, stared deeply at the Scythe Weasel, and after about a moment, he suddenly chuckled as if recalling a funny joke, letting out a "chichi" laugh.

"The leaders of our Law Punishment Faction... each has a distinctive personality, huh?"

Crack... Rakshasa extended his left hand to grab his beloved sword, Chōyō Masamune, which rested on his right hand side, and slowly stood up.

"Scythe Weasel, I am now your nominal superior."

"If you don’t heed my orders and just do as you please, then where does that leave my honor?"

"How about this then."

"Scythe Weasel, don’t you love fighting the most?"

"Why don’t we draw our swords and have a good fight right now."

"If you can defeat me, I won’t interfere with you anymore; you can do whatever you want."

"But if I win, you’ll have to obediently follow my directions."

"What do you think?"

The Scythe Weasel’s initially stern face showed signs of noticeable unease as Rakshasa finished speaking.

It was probably from hearing the phrase, "Why don’t we draw our swords..." that the eyes of the Scythe Weasel and Rakshasa met with intensity, their brows raising in hidden wariness and... caution.

Rakshasa noticed this unusual emotion in the eyes of the Scythe Weasel and with a nuanced expression on his face, he lightly shrugged.

"Relax, I won’t make it difficult for you."

"You don’t need to completely defeat me."

"As long as you can leave a wound on me... even if it’s just a scratch, I’ll count it as your victory."

"And I must render you unable to fight back at all to win."

"How about it? These terms aren’t too harsh, are they?"

While saying this, Rakshasa’s right hand instinctively lifted to touch under his right collarbone... more accurately, touching the 3-inch long shallow scar located there.

The condition that winning meant merely leaving a small injury on Rakshasa... such favorable terms did not bring joy to the Scythe Weasel’s face; rather, it made him look indignant, feeling belittled by Rakshasa.

Nevertheless, even with such advantageous conditions offered by Rakshasa, the Scythe Weasel remained silent, not responding to Rakshasa’s challenge.

Seeing the still quiet Scythe Weasel, Rakshasa smirked, a mocking curve appearing at the corners of his mouth.

"What’s wrong? The conditions are so favorable, and yet you’re still afraid to challenge me?"

"Scythe Weasel, are you saying you lack the confidence to leave even a single mark on me?"

Rakshasa’s neutral, calm words acted like a spark that ignited the explosive emotions of the Scythe Weasel.

The Scythe Weasel’s emotions erupted like lava from a volcano. His cheeks turned red, and his eyes widened, as more blue veins bulged out on his neck.

"Damn it! A fight it is! Who says I’m afraid of you?!"

The Scythe Weasel vigorously jumped back several steps, widening the distance between him and Rakshasa, then raised his right hand to tightly grip the fabric of his shirt on his left shoulder, and fiercely pulled it off, shedding the top of his kimono.

With his strong upper body exposed, the Scythe Weasel revealed the tattoo on his back—a white weasel-like creature with a tail that was a large scythe.

It was the infamous Wind Demon: Scythe Weasel!

The Scythe Weasel drew the sword hanging at his left waist with a swoosh.

This was a tachi with a large curvature to its blade, closely resembling the scythe tail on his back’s tattoo.

The atmosphere in the tea room shifted from suffocating tension to one of grim determination!

Glancing at the Scythe Weasel with his exposed upper body and drawn sword, Shimizu Eiichi solemnly asked Rakshasa, "Lord Rakshasa... do you need me to step aside?"