“This is a samurai sword forged using ancient methods, without a hint of modern craftsmanship. Its sharpness isn’t that great… Why don’t you sell it to me? I’m willing to pay a high price for my collection…”

In Yokohama, daring to open a shop related to forging weapons, whether they are cold weapons or not, and whether they are somewhat connected to the underworld, the boss’s seemingly earnest persuasion actually dodged some questions, such as whether such ancient crafting techniques are rare and what materials were used.

Dazai, who had no background whatsoever, rummaged through his pockets after listening to his nonsense: a wallet, a paperclip, a phone, and “The Complete Suicide Manual.” He didn’t find anything convenient to threaten the man with.

So, he drew out the blade embedded in Hyakki’s left arm. With a clang, a flash of white light passed, and he held the sword against the man’s neck.

Surely this showed enough sincerity.

The boss was startled, “Wait! I’m willing to exchange it for ten swords from my stock!”

“I don’t have time to listen to your rambling. Hand over the samurai sword that Nakahara had you repair.” Dazai quickly learned whatever he touched, and what he learned in the underworld was violence. Lately, facing various assassination attempts in the underworld, he playfully said, “Look at my sword. A light stroke on your neck, and it will become sharp, won’t it?”

The boss admitted painfully, “Yes, very sharp. I misspoke…”

Dazai urged, “Hurry up. If you’re one step too slow, my final payment will go to your grandson.”

“I don’t have a grandson,” the boss said in surprise.

Dazai cheerfully explained, “Then a granddaughter will do. It’ll make things easier for handling your affairs after you’re gone.”

Boss: “…”

He endured it, if it weren’t for the fact that the boy beside him radiated a killing intent!

Hyakki, who played the role of a mere tool throughout, maintained an unchanged posture. He wouldn’t strike with the white flames of life, but when it came to colors other than white… it depended on the situation.

Obviously, this greedy boss did not belong to the “safe” category.

Dazai paid the final installment with Dr. Mori’s wallet, not taking a single extra yen or leaving a single yen owed. He hung the repaired samurai sword at Hyakki’s waist, nodded, and felt a sense of achievement akin to playing a life-simulation game. “With the feeling of a fallen swordsman, how about we challenge a kendo dojo next time?”

Hyakki watched attentively as “she” displayed an optimistic flame of life. The fingers of his prosthetic left hand slightly flexed at the joints, wanting to hold the other’s hand rather than be held by them.

Dazai suddenly dodged away, waving his hand. “That’s disgusting. Two men don’t hold hands.”

Hyakki sensed the failure of the handshake and felt empty inside.

“I don’t have any experience in romance,” he thought.

Not knowing what to do in the afternoon, Dazai took Hyakki for a walk. Whenever there was danger, Hyakki would pull him away, ensuring that the two of them strolled without any sense of danger.

A gathering place for stray cats.

Clusters of small flames of life gathered on the dark ground.

After buying some bread and ham at a convenience store, Dazai taught Hyakki how to feed the cats. Surprisingly, the two individuals who lacked compassion showed some gentleness.

Ultimately, bored people will do anything.

“I prefer cats over dogs.”

Dazai spread out his palm, placing bread crumbs in Hyakki’s hand to attract the cats to come and lick and eat.

“Cats won’t stick to you. When it’s time to separate, they’ll do it happily. Even small animals know that nobody will be with you forever. Humans, on the other hand, are more like dogs. Give them a little favor, and they come running, full after eating but still wanting to stick around for the next free meal…”

He glanced over at Hyakki, who was focused on feeding the cats, his black hair often covering half of his face when he bowed his head, revealing a delicate face.

Perhaps suffering would give a unique demeanor.

Hyakki could never be a junior high school student who should be studying hard in the classroom.

Dazai placed a half-peeled sausage directly on top of Hyakki’s head. As expected, a bold fat cat stood up, reaching out with its paws to grab the sausage. Hyakki’s expression remained unchanged, his face blocked by the fat cat’s body, unable to see the other flames.

At the same time, “Dororo” was out of sight…

Hyakki’s head moved slightly, causing the sausage to fall off, rolling on the ground and being pounced on by the other cats. The fat cat that stood up initially hissed angrily, running over to try to grab the last remains.

“Is Hyakki looking at me?” Dazai said mischievously.

Dazai peeled another sausage, lifting Hyakki’s mask slightly and fed it to this unique stray “cat.” “What do I look like in Hyakki’s eyes?”

“Is there enough food for Dororo?”

Hyakki made a chewing motion, swallowing the tasteless sausage.

As a reward for the food.

Hyakki, who had never been treated kindly by anyone other than his adoptive father in this life, squatted on the ground, closed the intimidating mask, and, devoid of belongings and money, presented his sword to Dazai.

“Give it to me?” Dazai raised his fingertips, tapping Hyakki’s masked face, and said boldly, “I paid for it, and you’re giving it to me, and then I’ll put it back on your right hand? Wouldn’t that mean I’m at a loss?”

The cherished sword in Hyakki’s hand was not taken, as he silently locked eyes with Dazai.

“This is all I have…” Hyakki’s voice was quiet.

The significance of giving away one hundred yen from a pocket containing only that versus giving away all the remaining cash from a pocket containing a bank card was vastly different.

The sword was the only gift Hyakki could offer.

Dazai’s gaze reflected on the sword, realizing its value to Hyakki. He said softly, almost imperceptibly, “I don’t need your thanks, nor do I believe I’ve helped you. Even without me, Nakahara would still have returned your left leg…”

In fact, Dazai believed it might have been better for Hyakki to stay on Leibo Street and be taken in by the Sheep organization, away from the turmoil of the changing leadership in the Port Mafia.

Hyakki’s determination was silent but firm, yet Dazai was equally unyielding, picking up a bewildered stray cat and holding it up as if to block Hyakki’s penetrating gaze.