Chapter 36: The result of a hidden high spec going too easy on him lol

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Translator: Soafp

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“The Sword Genius” Kyoji Kenmochi.

With the blade still sheathed, he pointed the tip of his sword at me.

Now that I was facing him like this, I had to admit—he definitely looked like an old man. He wasn't even wearing a school uniform. A black T-shirt with a skull design and a pair of ripped jeans. No matter how you looked at him, he screamed outlaw. Or maybe thug? I wasn't entirely sure, but he definitely didn't look like a high schooler.

“Hold it right there!”

President Suzuka Kochou stepped in front of me protectively.

“You're seriously going to go up against an unarmed amateur? A three-time national kendo champion against a bare-handed first-year? That's not fair.”

“I don't plan to draw. And I'm not going to make him fight unarmed either. —Oi, Kurata.”

Kenmochi turned toward a gloomy-looking chubby guy at the round table.

“Lend him something. Anything'll do.”

The chubby guy nodded and reached behind his back. From the collar of his shirt, ni-ni-niiin, he pulled out a long wooden sword. Where had he even been hiding that?

He tossed it to me. I caught it—it was a high-quality wooden sword made of real ebony.

“Alright, you ready?”

Kenmochi said, voice bubbling with excitement. He took a middle guard stance, sword still sheathed.

President Suzuka blocked his path.

“Stop it! Just because he has a wooden sword now doesn't change the fact he's a beginner!”

“He's no beginner.”

“What?”

“I said, he's no beginner. I can tell just by the way he walks. You've done kendo before, haven't you?”

…Wait, what?

No, I haven't done kendo. I've trained in kenjutsu, sure. But according to my master, “Kendo? You win by whacking bamboo armor with a stick? What even is that~? The real match starts after you break through the armor, duh~” I think the word “deathmatch” was written in small print next to the word real match…

“Hah. So scared you can't even speak, huh?”

“……”

I was at a total loss for words.

I mean, how was I supposed to say “no” now, after he said it with such confidence? He was my Senpai, after all. I couldn't just embarrass him in front of everyone.

“Kazu-kun, are you really going to be okay?”

President Suzuka turned to me, worry in her eyes. I didn't want her to worry any more than this. “I'll be fine,” I said, and asked her to step back.

“You can attack me however you like. I'll stay on the defensive. If your wooden sword touches my body or clothes, I'll acknowledge your skill. But if you show an opening, I'll strike. Got it?”

“I understand.”

I took a stance with the wooden sword.

“Hey, be serious. Take a real stance.”

“Eh?”

…I thought I was being serious.

“Don't mess around. You're not a ninja. Why are you holding it in reverse grip? There's no way you can swing a wooden sword like that!”

“……”

Ah. Right. Normally, you can't.

Reluctantly, I copied Kenmochi's middle guard stance.

All the geniuses around the table had their eyes fixed on me.

“Alright, here we go! Come at meee!!”

Okay then…

This was an S-rank difficulty quest: hold back just enough to not hurt him, but still earn his respect.

If this were a real sword, I could just slice through his clothes and call it a day. But with a wooden sword, that wasn't possible.

So instead, I'd go for his weapon.

I'd swing downward just fast enough that he could barely block it, and knock his sword right out of his hands.

The key was judging that “just barely” speed.

What I needed was imagination.

I told myself the wooden sword I held wasn't made of wood—but of iron. Super heavy. Let's say… 10 kilograms. No, 20 kilograms. That's about the weight of Musashibo Benkei's little monk staff, right? I'd set the same weight.

No way I could swing something that heavy around at full speed.

No way I could go all-out.

So—imagine it, imagine it.

“What's wrong? Scared!? Hurry up and swing already!!”

Alright. I've got the image.

The weight running down my arms was unmistakably steel.

I raised it and brought it down—right at Kenmochi.

flop

That pitiful sound effect pretty much described the motion. The steel-heavy bokken came down.

Kenmochi reacted and moved to block it. Good. He was fast enough to catch it.

Here goes.

flop~~~~~~~~~~~

CRAAACK!!!

“Ooh!?”

“Ah”

“Wha?”

“Ehh?”

“Hooh.”

“Hmm?”

“……”

“Kazuma-kun!?”

All eight geniuses, including the president, let out surprised voices.

Kenmochi's sword—still in its sheath—was broken clean in half.

I'd broken it.

“…………Uh…”

Let me explain.

I tried to slow the slash down by imagining the bokken was super heavy. But I went overboard. The result? A strike that wasn't very fast, but was unbelievably powerful. A destructive move known as “Zantetsu” (Iron-Cutting). A sword technique used not for cutting, but for smashing through tough armor or special protective materials.

………….

Yep. I’m really terrible at holding back.

“My… my beloved Kurume Kiyohide is goooone!?”

Kenmochi stared at his sword, split perfectly in two, with the expression of someone watching the world end. Kurume Kiyohide—that was the name, right? I think I read online it went for around 600,000 yen in an auction. If I had to pay that back, not only would my part-time wages vanish, I'd go into serious debt. If he tells me to compensate him, I'm bolting.

“Wh-what the hell just happened!? Why did my sword break!?”

“I really didn't mean to hit that hard…”

“Right!? It looked totally limp and wobbly!!”

Oh. So that part worked, at least…

“Hey, Kurata! What's up with that wooden sword!? Did you stuff it with lead or something!?”

“No, I didn't modify it at all…”

Kurata responded in a gloomy voice that matched his shady appearance, peering at me through the gap in his long bangs. I wondered what kind of genius he was supposed to be.

This is… bad.

Looks like my “act normal” plan is about to crash and burn.

At that moment, a man seated at the far end of the round table clapped his hands.

“That's enough.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“Kenmochi. I won't allow you to waste any more of our time with your selfishness. Some of us have returned from abroad just to be here.”

His voice carried a presence that didn't belong to a high school student—full of weight and authority. It was hard to see clearly in the dim room, but even so, I could tell: he was good-looking, with sharp eyes brimming with intelligence.

This guy seemed to be the top dog of the “Genius Conference.”

“But Kaidou—”

“No excuses. You probably got duped with a cheap fake. The fact it snapped from a wooden sword says it all.”

“But it came with a certificate of authenticity! Damn it, I'm filing a complaint!”

Grumbling, Kenmochi sulked back to his seat, still staring longingly at the broken blade. Seriously—sorry.

The man spoke again:

“You're Kazu Suzuki, correct? For today, you're permitted to observe. Sit next to Kochou.”

“Thank you very much.”

Looks like I was officially allowed to stay.

President Suzuka breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell she'd truly been worried about me. She really is a wonderful person.

“Looks like you got lucky, Kazu-kun. It's like you've got a goddess of fortune watching over you.”

“Yeah… I think so, too.”

And if that goddess really exists, she definitely has beautiful silver hair.

“But no more dangerous stuff, okay? Leave the fighting to others. What I'm hoping for from you is that courage—and your brilliant mind.”

“Got it.”

Suzuka and I sat side-by-side at the round table.

That made nine of us in total.

The man, who had been called Kaidou, looked around at the assembled geniuses and declared:

“Then, from this moment forth—let the ‘Genius' begin.”