Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

The beggar Gonshichi narrated.

In Owari Province's Kasugai District, on the banks of the Shonai River - it was on the afternoon of June 10th in the 3rd year of Shōtoku (1713) that I lay hidden in the grass.
The sky held a faint haze, giving it a whitish cast, but against that well-cleared summer expanse, a kite was soaring as if gliding through its own private promenade.

Suddenly sensing someone's presence, I peered through the grass concealing me to look in that direction.

A craftsman-like man of twenty-eight or twenty-nine had appeared—how had he come without my noticing?—standing on the bank several ken away from where I lay hidden. (What's this?) I wondered as I followed his line of sight.
He was glaring at the water's surface near the bank.
So I too turned my gaze to the water.

(I see—anyone would notice this.)

I muttered under my breath.
This river—the Shonai River they say spans thirty ken—spread through the surrounding lands as an irrigation channel watering vast farmlands. From upstream floated cabbage leaves, radish greens, and straw scraps, but when these drifting fragments neared where the man stood, they'd swirl in lazy eddies, hesitate as if pondering their course, then sink beneath the surface.
(That scoundrel fixated on this phenomenon reeks of suspicion.)

And so, as for myself, I instead grew suspicious of the craftsman-like man.

(He's no ordinary man—a suspicious character.)

Lost in thought, I surveyed the vast farmland.
In the outskirts of Owari Castle Town—a renowned vegetable-producing region—every field lay covered with seasonal crops spreading like carpets of deep green, pale green, and yellowish-green hues.
No houses could be seen anywhere, and not even a single farmhouse stood nearby.
No—there stood just a single house: a mansion several chō away to the southeast.
And that ill-omened mansion.
...When Lord Tsugutomo of Owari—two generations prior to the current lord—attempted to succeed the extinct Tokugawa main family line and become the Eighth Shogun, Lord Kii obstructed him, causing those hopes to vanish like foam on water, after which Lord Kii himself assumed the shogunate instead.
The current Lord Yoshimune.
...Driven by this melancholy into mental turmoil, Lord Tsugutomo repeatedly ordered his retainers to commit seppuku. Among them was a senior retainer called Lord Hiratsuka Hyōbu, who had built a villa near the Shonai River during his lifetime and became obsessively attached to it. Even after being ordered to die, his apparition continued to appear at this villa night after night.
—this was the ill-omened mansion in question.

"(With a deep pool where debris sinks unnaturally and a Haunted Mansion nearby, this area sure is dangerous)," I muttered.

II

It was not long after that when I started and looked toward the riverside embankment. Five samurai in splendid attire—wearing field trousers and woven sedge hats—were approaching while guarding a noble figure who appeared half-monk and half-layman, his shaven head crowned with a hood and august form draped in a gauze overgarment.

(This was no ordinary visitor who had arrived)

I muttered this, but given that this half-monastic figure was none other than Lord Tokugawa Muneharu—former Lord Owari Chunagon, now retired under the self-styled title of Munenbō Taishin while residing in the Nishi-no-Maru—my astonishment was only natural.

Then Lord Muneharu came to a halt and appeared to whisper something to one of his retainers.
Then that retainer separated from the group and approached the craftsman-like man,

“What are you doing there?” he demanded in a stern tone.

“I'm just looking at the river.”
So the craftsman-like man replied.

“Is there something unusual about the river?”

“No, it isn’t like that.
“Just idly watching it pass by.”

“Idle?
“Why idle?”

“I’m a carpenter by trade, but having fallen out of my master’s favor, I could no longer receive work assignments.
“…Wandering while pondering what to do next, I ended up here.
“…So I stood here vaguely gazing at the river…”

“A carpenter, you say? Show me your hands.”

“Hands?”
“Why?”
“Why my hands?”

“I’ll check whether you’re truly a carpenter.”

“…………”

“A real carpenter would have plane calluses.”

“…………”

“Show me your hands for inspection. …This bastard’s hiding his hand in his pocket!”

“Cut him down!”

At that moment, Lord Muneharu commanded in a fierce voice.

“Ah!”

This was my own exclamation.

For the retainer had knocked back his sedge hat and delivered a diagonal slash across the craftsman-like man's right shoulder without even showing his sword-drawing motion.

The craftsman-like man fell.
But he hadn't fallen from being cut down—he had fallen to evade the sword's edge.

"Thou!"

Then Lord Saijō Kanemon—for now that the sedge hat had been removed, this retainer was revealed to be none other than Lord Saijō himself, renowned within Owari Domain as a master of the Chūjō-ryū style—when that command was issued, stepped forward, raised his sword straight overhead, and brought it down toward the back of the fallen craftsman-like man.

But in that instant, dirt, pebbles, and uprooted grass burst upward as one, followed by a violent splash—and the craftsman-like man vanished from sight.
He jumped into the river and fled.

III

The second time I encountered this man was three days later, at the kitchen entrance of Mochida Hachirōemon—a master shipwright in service to Lord Owari, permitted to bear the family name Mochida—located in Kaisu-machi beneath Nagoya Castle.

It was the hour when lamps were lit, and on that day, I had come to that residence to beg for alms.
I had visited on multiple occasions prior to this, so to speak, that residence was one of my territories.
It must be because the master was kind-hearted, but even the maids and manservants were kind; when they saw my face, they would say “Seshū is here—give him something,” and put freshly cooked rice into a washbowl for me.
Now that day as well, having received my portion of rice, I exited through the kitchen entrance and walked along the wall toward the thoroughfare.

Then from ahead came a man approaching, but when he reached near the kitchen, he suddenly let out a groan and collapsed to the ground—did he not?
Startled, I turned back and approached the man. When I peered at his face—it was none other than that very man.

(So this man was staging another performance here—)

And since this struck deep in my chest, I raised my foot, thinking I might as well kick him to death.

IV

However, by the lamplight streaming from the kitchen entrance, the sight of the man collapsed on the ground must have become visible to the maids and manservants, for they came rushing out,

“How pitiful.”

“He’s collapsed!”

“Someone notify the guardhouse!”

“Medicine first!”

“Bring water!”

Exclaiming such things in unison, they set about tending to the man—did they not? Whether stirred by suspicion from this commotion or not, Lord Mochida’s young mistress and her favored upper maid—a woman called Ms. Oyanagi—emerged from the inner quarters.

“How pitiful—you should bring him inside and tend to him properly,”
she said.
As the manservants lifted and carried him into the house—peering at his face—

“What a fine complexion.”

When I heard young mistress Sayo whisper this to the maid called Oyanagi, I felt an unpleasant sensation.
This was because it involved young mistress Sayo, whose beauty and innocence I had long admired and respected.
Young mistress Sayo was nineteen years old, but being somewhat petite in stature, she appeared no older than seventeen. With her small mouth, button nose, and lustrous eyes shaped like ayu fish, she resembled a living doll.
Though called a master shipwright, the Mochida Family—in service to Lord Owari—possessed exemplary prestige, standing equal to such wealthy purveyors of the Kiyosu-goe Nineteen as Lord Tsuda Sukeemon and Lord Kurata Shinjuro. Being the daughter of Lord Mochida, the young mistress wore lavish garments; her hair ornaments were fashioned from silver and tortoiseshell.

“He truly has a dashing figure, doesn’t he?”

The maid called Oyanagi also said, I recall.

“You fool! What’s so great about that man?!”

In the end, due to my mounting irritation, I spoke those words in a rather fierce voice.
Then, to my surprise, Oyanagi glared back at me and retorted, “What’s wrong with that? It’s not like you’re jealous.”

she retorted, did she not?

Then about ten days passed.

One day, as usual, I made my rounds to the households within my territory, received alms, and set out on my return journey in the evening.
Just as even birds have their roosts, even beggars have their nests.
I walked toward Kawaramachi,
as I was lost in thought.
By the time I reached the town entrance, dusk was approaching.
When I suddenly looked ahead, the figure of a single samurai—head hung low, shoulders hunched as if deep in thought—walking away could be dimly seen in the moonlight.

(He seemed at a loss.) I found it amusing.
(This was cruel, but I’d have some fun with him)—for I had known exactly who that samurai was.

Thereupon, I approached the samurai,

“Your failure to kill him stems from your lordship’s inexperience—and even should you attempt to seek him out and strike him down, if you conduct your search without direction, how could you possibly locate such a cunning Edo operative?”

I whispered to him.

How could Lord Saijō Kanemon not be startled—indeed, that samurai was Lord Saijō—he spun around in shock.
But to Lord Saijō’s searching eyes, there should have been visible no one—not a single soul—save for a beggar wrapped in straw matting, leaning on a bamboo staff and clutching a washbasin.
And he could never have imagined that this beggar had uttered those very words.

Sure enough, Lord Saijō tilted his head as if doubting his own ears, but soon proceeded onward.
Thereupon, I too followed along in silence for a while.
But then I stealthily approached him from behind again and whispered.

V

“Did you not state that you were a carpenter? Then if your lordship were to investigate the master carpenters of the castle town—specifically the master shipwrights—I believe your lordship would come to understand both that man’s identity and his current whereabouts.”

“Tch!”

By this time, Lord Saijō's blade had already come slashing diagonally at my right shoulder in a sudden strike.

I lurched forward.

"Ah yes, that man also evaded your lordship's blade in this manner, did he not?"

"You beggar!"

Lord Saijō then aimed at my back and struck downward.

Slipping through the attack, I leapt to the left,

"Had the Shonai River been here, I too could have leapt into its waters like that man and escaped... What a waste—instead of fixating on some beggar, had you simply heeded my words as a fellow human and investigated someone like Mr. Mochida, you might have achieved great merit..."

With those words, I dashed into one of the alleys, I recall.

Having failed to strike down the craftsman-like man on the banks of the Shonai River and allowed him to escape, having received reprimand from Lord Nishinomaru, and having been sternly ordered to locate and slay that man at all costs—yet still unable to find him—
My words had plunged into Lord Saijō’s seething frustration like a stick thrust into his churning gut—thus, his hatred toward me burned fiercely, and it seemed only natural that he would come charging into the alleyways in relentless pursuit, determined to cut me down.
However, since the alleyways had many branching paths and a complicated layout, it seemed Lord Saijō couldn’t determine where I had hidden.

It was not long after that Lord Saijō stood before a house in a dazed state.

It was before a stylish new single-story house with latticework, built in the Heian style.

Then, the paper door beyond the lattice door brightened across the earthen floor, and soon the sliding door opened to reveal a striking woman holding a lantern, her figure disheveled.
Thick-lashed large eyes; a high nose without mid-sag; as for the mouth—this too was sizable but protruded slightly at the jaw—together they formed features of undeniable allure.
She brought her free left hand to her temple and, with a womanly affectation, swept back stray strands of hair—yet from the neckline and sleeves of her kimono, glimpses of crimson peeked through, creating an effect that could bewilder a man’s senses.
Crouching slightly, she peered through the lattice door,

“Who is it? Do you have business at this house?”

she said in a suggestive, sultry voice.

“No—”

Mr. Saijō said in a flustered voice,

“A ruffian has broken in, you see.”

“A ruffian?
“A creepy… What did this ruffian look like?”

“It’s a beggar—a filthy beggar.”

“Mr. Gomo, oh my… If it’s Mr. Gomo you’re referring to, why, he comes around here every day without fail.”

“That is an unconscionable beggar.”

“Did he show disrespect to you, sir?”

“Well... I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“Your breathing sounds rather labored, doesn’t it?
“How about some water…”

“Water? No—there’s no need for that.”

“Then perhaps some tea, hm-hm…”

The woman began to show signs that she intended to tease the flustered samurai.

“Make sure to properly secure the doors.”

Lord Saijō said as if to hide his embarrassment and began to walk away.

The woman was Lord Mochida’s maid, Oyanagi.
And then, not long after, that Oyanagi sat in the inner tea room of this house conversing casually with a sharp-eyed samurai in his mid-thirties wearing a thick winter kimono, his jaw set firm.
Beside the long hibachi stood a lacquered tray bearing small dishes and even a warmed sake decanter—such was the scene.
From how Oyanagi alternated between calling the man “Mr. Hata” and “Tanomo-san,” it became evident these were his family and given names—their relationship clearly that of paramours.

And that very samurai called Hata Tanomo was none other than this beggar known as Seshū—that is to say, myself.
Why was I, a samurai, reduced to playing the beggar? To explain—it was to uncover the secrets of a grave conspiracy.
In other words, I was disguising myself as a beggar to conduct espionage.
That I had slept on the banks of the Shonai River and prowled around the Mochida house—both had been for that purpose.
Now, you may wonder how I—having fled into the alleyways—came to be drinking sake with Oyanagi at such a house using a lacquered tray. To explain: upon fleeing into the alleys, I had hidden in the shadow of a tenant house before my own hideout—for that house was my secret refuge—where I listened to Oyanagi’s conversation with Lord Saijō. The moment Lord Saijō departed, I entered through my home’s back kitchen door. There, I had Oyanagi—whom I had infiltrated into the Mochida household as a maid to uncover their secrets—assist me with the intelligence she brought this night. Removing my beggar’s garb and performing my ablutions, I found myself in the tea room with that lacquered tray... Thus began the conversation between Oyanagi and myself.—

“I suppose staying the night wouldn’t be out of the question.”
This was me speaking.

“That won’t do,” she countered.
“…Not with the young mistress in such a state.”

“When there are decent men aplenty—to think she’d fall for that wretch.”

“That Tsurukichi from Edo—he’s devilishly skilled with women.”

“And compounding it all—Sayo-bō being a pure maiden untouched by worldly ways...”

“She’s fallen head over heels—utterly bewitched.”

“That their elopement plan’s finalized—it’s utterly exasperating, not even worth discussing.”

“It’s because she’s a sheltered girl.”

“Doesn’t she even notice the man’s background?”

“Doesn’t she even notice a man’s heart, I tell you.”

“That’s exactly it—that’s why this is so troublesome. If these were deeds born of true love, that would be one thing—but since they’re not, it’s terrifying.”

“Once he cleverly takes her to Edo, she doesn’t realize what they’ll do to her then, I tell you.”

“The fact that she’ll be made a living witness—she doesn’t realize it, so it’s truly pitiful.”

I brought the cup Oyanagi had poured to my lips.

VI

“If there’s any mistake in the date or time of the elopement, it’ll be disastrous.”

“Five days from today at the Hour of the Rat. I’ve confirmed it, so it’ll be fine.”

“You were supposed to go along too, weren’t you?”

“That’s right—I’ll see her off part of the way. The young mistress is so sweet—she confides absolutely everything in me alone, you see.”

“That’s precisely our weak point… Still, that man Tsurukichi—I can’t imagine him being some kind-hearted soul who’d be satisfied with just whisking Sayo-bō away.”

“It seems he’s managed to extract various things through the young mistress’s hands so far.”
“The items he’s extracting must be things that could serve as evidence.”

“Ah, right—those would be the kind of items that could serve as evidence.”

“By the way—the work at the site. How’s it progressing?”

“That part even I don’t understand.”
“They’re secretly transporting them to the Haunted Mansion as soon as they’re made, I tell you.”

“Even though that Tsurukichi must have known about such things long ago, it just doesn’t make sense to me that he hasn’t investigated the Haunted Mansion.”

“Maybe he’s going to investigate from now on, don’t you think?”

“Hmm… You might be right… Either before the elopement or on the night itself, perhaps.”

I opened the floor cupboard behind me, took out a wooden box, and from within it extracted a thick bamboo tube.

“If this gets damp, it’ll be disastrous.”

“That’s a strange thing, huh? What is it, I wonder?”

“Putting it plainly, it’s a landmine.”
“Though normally you’d call it ‘dropped fire’.”

“Landmine?”
“Well now, how unsettling... Why would you have something like that?”

“It was entrusted by our lord.”

“The lord?”
“Which lord?”

“Are there two lords?”
“Our liege is His Lordship of Inuyama.”

“Then it’s from Lord Naruse… But that His Lordship would possess such a dreadful thing…”

“In case of emergency, we’re to set it ablaze—they’ve given us strict orders beforehand, you see.”

At this moment, dogs began barking here and there in the alleys. I placed the bamboo tube back into the wooden box and shoved it into the floor cupboard, then cocked my ear at the barking dogs. “Seems our conversation’s about run its course. Well then…”

“What do you mean?”

“It means there’s a crimson-lined futon laid out in the next room.”

“How foolish… I told them my aunt was ill, so I’ve come here after getting leave to visit her.”

“Faking an illness for an aunt who doesn’t even exist just to meet your lover—you’re quite the cunning operator, aren’t you?”

“That schemer has me worried.”
“That Tsurukichi—the one who staged himself as a collapsed man to get taken in by Lord Mochida, lingering around to deceive the young mistress—isn’t he going to stage some second act while I’m away and outwit us?”

“So you’re planning to head back right away?”

“What should I do?”

“Are you teasing me… Or are you getting impatient…”

“Ow, that hurts.”

It had become a sight painful to behold...

VII

It was five nights after that when I—still wearing my straw-mat hood, leaning on a bamboo staff, and clutching a wooden basin in my beggar’s guise—made my way toward the Shonai River.

I arrived before the Haunted Mansion.

The vast mansion, spanning one chō square, was so heavily enclosed by trees and earthen walls that from outside, not even the roofs of the inner buildings could be seen.

For a while, I circled around the mansion along the earthen wall.
Then, about half a chō east from the small gate, there was a dense grove.
I gazed at it and thought to myself—Leaving that to handle things should be fine—then continued onward without pause.
I reached a spot with stable footing.
There, I climbed into the grove, scaled the top of the earthen wall, and leaped down into the mansion grounds.
Thickly growing near the earthen wall within the grounds were plantings of pine, maple, podocarpus, and cherry trees.

(With the grove outside the walls, the tall thick earthen wall, and these inner plantings forming such a fortified barrier, whatever schemes they might be plotting within the mansion could neither be seen nor heard from outside.)
Moreover, having spread such an eerie rumor about it being a haunted mansion on top of all that, no one would dare approach.)

While thinking such thoughts, I pushed through the undergrowth and pressed onward.
Then from ahead came the sound of numerous voices—the clanging of objects being struck and sliced—resounding like the distant roar of the tide, while lamplight flickered into view.
Suddenly at that moment, voices drew nearer, so I concealed myself in the shadow of the thicket.

"That was an unfamiliar man."

"It seems to be someone who sneaked in from outside."

"No matter what—we must find and capture..."

They were two samurai.

“There he is!”

Then one of them spotted me, shouted, and lunged forward in an attempt to grapple me.
(I have no choice), I thought, thrusting out my bamboo staff.
Of course, I struck the vital spot.
He let out only a faint groan before the samurai collapsed.

“Villain!”

This samurai charged in slashing.

But that samurai also collapsed.

Because my thrust bamboo staff had struck true into his solar plexus.

(Hah. Half a koku of their noble efforts.)
(They’ll naturally come around soon enough.)

I proceeded forward.

But I couldn't rest easy.
I was well aware that Tsurukichi had scaled the earthen wall and infiltrated the mansion grounds just as I had. But if I dawdled around and allowed him to accomplish his objective and escape from this mansion, it would spell catastrophe—or so I feared.

I proceeded forward.

Then a voice shouted, “Who’s there?” followed by a scream—“Agh!”—then immediately came the cry of “Villain!” followed by another “Agh!” Next came the clamor of frantic footsteps as though someone were fleeing, only to be interrupted by yet another “Agh!” After that, all fell silent.

(He's formidable.
He killed three men!
That bastard!)

And I ran forward.

And before long, I—having made thorough preparations for travel—stood poised with swords drawn against that man called Tsurukichi, his face concealed beneath a black hood, amidst the grove.
Yes, I too drew out the sword concealed within my bamboo staff and took my stance.

At our feet lay three samurai corpses.
They had all been dispatched with single strokes.

(His swordsmanship is incredible. If I let my guard down, I'm done for.)

I desperately braced myself.

Then, Tsurukichi seemed to recognize my figure in the moonlight,

“What’s this? You’re that beggar… But… You’re no real beggar… Declare your identity!”

“You’re the one who should declare your identity! Investigating the water intake channel built to draw floodwaters from the Shonai River into this mansion… Disguising yourself as a collapsed man to infiltrate the house of Mochida, the master shipbuilder… Beguiling his daughter to uncover secrets… Finally sneaking into this mansion to witness the site with your own eyes…”

“Silence! This bastard… To think you’d know my true identity to that extent?… Then you… Could you be⁈”

“……”

“Aren’t you a spy? Which domain’s?”

“……”

“This is a matter for discussion—no, a plea. Seeing as we’re of the same station, I beg you—look the other way.”

VIII

“What’ll you give me for this?” I shot back.

“Reward? You actually want compensation?”

“You think I work for free?”

“Fair enough. Makes negotiations quicker… What do you want? Name it.”

“Spit out every secret you’ve dug up.”

“…………”

“Hand over all secured evidence to me.”

“……”

“Return the living evidence you’re trying to spirit away to Edo into my hands.”

“Tch. Is that all you demand?”

“There remains one more.”

“More? Out with it!”

“Vanish from this place.”

“Wh-what did you say?”

“I’m saying your continued existence poses a problem.”

How fearsome was Tsurukichi’s blade—like a whirlwind and thunderbolt—as it came slashing forth driven by rage and hatred! Barely parrying the strike, I dashed into the grove. Tsurukichi’s figure chasing after me was akin to a leopard.

(It's no use) I resigned myself. (I can't finish him off with my own hands.)

Using a pine tree as a shield while deflecting Tsurukichi’s blade, I shouted at the top of my voice.

“Residents of the mansion, come forth! A spy from the Kurokuwa Group of Edo’s military headquarters—dispatched to investigate Lord Nishinomaru’s secret plot—has infiltrated this mansion!”
“If you let him return alive to Edo, it will bring disgrace upon our domain!”
“The villain is here! Come quickly!”

In response to the voice, from all directions came samurai with drawn swords and a group of shipwrights wielding saws and hammers, brandishing torches to light their way as they rushed toward us.
The one standing at their head was Lord Saijō Kanemon, so—

“The man who deflected your sword tip and jumped into the Shonai River—this one here is the spy!”
“Since there’s no river here, it’s safe.”
“This time, please cut him down for good.”

“You…! That night…”

“Let’s keep that matter private.”
“Because we are allies.”

After saying that, I dashed off toward the mansion building.

When I finished the work I had to do, I returned.
The mansion gate stood open.
And I dashed off.

What do you suppose was outside the gate?

From the eastern small gate, and from the grove about fifty meters away, voices could be heard, and the light of torches was shining.

I ran toward that direction.

What I saw there was this ghastly spectacle: before a palanquin with its curtains lowered stood Tsurukichi—drenched in both his enemies' blood and his own like some blood-drenched apparition, yet still brimming with fighting spirit, the very embodiment of ferocity. He brandished a bloodied sword in his right hand while gripping the palanquin's roof edge with his left, glaring at the Owari Domain samurai and Mochida Hachirōemon's disciples—a crowd of shipwrights—gathered before him.

“Attack, you lot! Make a move, and it’s your end!”

With a hoarse voice, Tsurukichi shouted.

“Make a move, and I’ll stab the woman in the palanquin to death with one strike!”
“...I’ll kill Mochida Hachirōemon’s daughter!”
“If you dare attack—then attack!”

The shipwrights seemed bitterly frustrated as they each hurled curses.

“Damn you, Tsurukichi!”

“Ingrates!”

However, with the master shipwright’s treasured daughter taken hostage, they could not charge forward.
Lord Saijō and the samurai as well stood with swords at the ready, filled with anxious impatience, yet could do nothing.
This was because Mochida Hachirōemon, though called a master shipwright, was in truth an esteemed official craftsman of the domain and—crucially—a pivotal figure in Lord Nishinomaru’s current scheme. Should harm come to his daughter, they knew it would spell catastrophe.

However, I did not hold back.
I shouted loudly.

“Now, Sayo-bō, take him down!”

Nine

The moment I shouted, a scream of "Ah!" erupted. Tsurukichi—still brandishing his sword—twisted his body, then staggered and fell with a thud.
Blood gushed from his side.

A roar surged up from the shipwrights and domain samurai—an involuntary cry escaping their throats.
But those voices cut off abruptly, leaving an eerie silence.

For Sayo-bō had revealed herself—clutching a blood-stained dagger as she sliced through the palanquin’s curtain.

It was not Sayo-bō but Oyanagi.

It was the first time she had ever killed someone.
Oyanagi’s complexion had turned ashen, her eyes bloodshot, yet this only heightened her terrifying beauty. Never before had I thought the woman called Oyanagi as beautiful as she appeared in that moment.
After meeting my gaze, Oyanagi addressed the shipwrights.

“Everyone, please rest assured. I have rescued Lady Sayo and hidden her deep within the grove, in the shadow of the thicket.”

Needless to say, the shipwrights cried out in joy and ran toward the depths of the grove.
Meanwhile, Lord Saijō and the domain samurai moved to finish off Tsurukichi.
But I stopped them.

“He’s a man bound to die anyway. Please let him pass quietly.”

When I looked, Tsurukichi fixed his eyes—nearing his death throes—intently on mine, as if he had something to say.
So I approached, brought my mouth close to his ear, and whispered.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“Oh... I cannot die... not like this... outsmarted by a beggar...”
“I beg you... reveal... your true identity.”

“That’s reasonable. I’ll reveal it.”
“…Chief Retainer of the Owari family, Lord of Inuyama Castle, vassal to Naruse Hayatonosuke—Hata Tanomo. That’s who I am.”

Here I rephrased my approach: “Might I inquire your honorable full name?”

“……”

He wordlessly shook his head.

“Now that you’ve failed as a spy, you mean to take your name to the grave—is that your resolve?”
“That’s only proper indeed.”

At that moment, flames suddenly shot up from inside the mansion.

“Fire!”

“It’s terrible—the workshop’s on fire!”

People shouted and ran off.

Bringing my mouth close to his ear once more, I whispered, “Lord Tsurukichi.”

“The forbidden great warship—constructed by Lord Muneharu and treasured by he who dispatched you here—now burns.”
“Your duty stands fulfilled in essence! Take joy in this, and be at peace!”

“Fire?… The large warship… is burning?”

“It was this humble one who set the fire.”

“You… your own faction did this?”

“Our lord Naruse Hayatonosuke deemed His Lordship Nishinomaru’s scheme a grave crisis. Though he repeatedly remonstrated to no avail, he had no choice but to impart his will unto me…”

At this moment, the shipwrights emerged from deep within the grove, bringing Lady Sayo with them.

“Oyanagi, bring Lady Sayo to Lord Tsurukichi!”

My partner Oyanagi took Lady Sayo’s hand and led her to Tsurukichi’s side.
Lady Sayo appeared utterly lifeless from terror and sorrow, but she collapsed to the ground, placed Tsurukichi’s head upon her lap, and sobbed convulsively.
She had loved Tsurukichi—ah.

Ever since the succession dispute within the main family, relations between Shogun Yoshimune and the Owari clan had grown strained. This was why Lord Muneharu—still in his prime—had been compelled to retire prematurely. As for their construction of that prohibited great warship, I believe they undertook it as well to vent their smoldering resentment toward Shogun Yoshimune.

That forbidden warship had already been ninety percent complete by then—a truly formidable vessel.

Had I not reduced it to ashes using the bamboo-cased landmine entrusted to me by my lord, it would assuredly have been finished.

They had ingeniously devised a system where water drawn from the Shonai River would first flood into the dry dock, then be channeled back into the river before finally being released to the sea.

That I—a Seishu-born beggar called Gonshichi—lowered myself to such a role and burned down that magnificent ship, even if it was for the Owari family's sake, made me feel it was a terrible waste beyond measure.