My Gang of Swordsmen

That night—

In a certain restaurant in Edo—

“I’m in the mood! Let me dance a hometown dance for everyone!”

The jester Harada pushed away the table in front of him, quickly stood in the center of the room, and hummed an unknown tune to accompany himself while performing a dance with no apparent meaning.

Harada’s dance wasn’t exactly unwatchable, but it was definitely hard to look at.

Not a single note was on key, and his stiff limbs seemed completely disconnected from his brain, with moves that didn’t match the music at all…

In short—it was a dance with the potential to cause psychic damage.

However, for a “celebration feast” where the livelier it was, the better, such a dance was just right.

There’s no need for impressive vocals or dance steps; what matters is that you dare to dance and sing and keep the party from getting dull—that’s what a celebration feast is all about.

Harada’s comical dance steps made everyone in the room burst into laughter, filling the air with an atmosphere of joy.

Some people… like Nagakura, who got along well with Harada and was infected by the cheerful atmosphere of the feast; or Fujimura, who couldn’t refuse Harada’s enthusiastic invitation… voluntarily formed an “impromptu dance group” to join Harada in the dance.

For Shiwei Hall, although today’s competition had some twists and turns, they were fortunate to ultimately defeat Xuanwu Hall.

Since they won the competition, it was only natural to hold a jubilant celebration feast.

In the evening, Zhouzhu booked a large private room in a restaurant for the site of the celebration feast.

Many people associated with Shiwei Hall were invited to the banquet.

For instance, Fujimura Heisuke.

For instance, Kiryu, Mukiwa.

For instance, Chokata Mitsuo and his spouse.

As soon as the banquet started, the atmosphere was lifted to its peak with laughter and drinks.

It had been a long time since they had such a gathering with enough reason to put aside mundane affairs and wholeheartedly invest all their spirits into the joy before them without reservation.

Seizing this opportunity to relax without worries, everyone was eating, drinking, singing, and fooling around with abandon.

Had it not been for the concern of Abi, who absolutely wouldn’t tolerate any ambiguity between her husband (Zhouzhu) and outside women being present, Hijikata would have wanted to invite some geisha over for more merrymaking.

Of course, one significant reason everybody was going crazy tonight was that the entire expense of the feast was covered by Zhouzhu.

With free food and drinks, naturally, they ate happily and drank to their fill.

Regarding Zhouzhu’s generosity, Abi, who was responsible for managing Shiwei Hall’s finances and worked tirelessly daily to make its monthly surplus look better, although her face was visibly upset, said nothing in reproach.

Celebrating Shiwei Hall’s victory over Xuanwu Hall, with all expenses borne by Zhouzhu, the Hall Master—this was only sensible and appropriate.

During the celebration feast, shouting to the disciples and guests “Tonight’s feast, we pay for our own”—as stingy as Abi was, she couldn’t bring herself to do something so embarrassing.

Money might be important, but for Abi, “family honor” and “the samurai’s face” were the most crucial.

Besides, today’s victory also made Abi feel particularly proud, so she decided to make an exception, accompanying Zhouzhu in their long-awaited grand gesture to spend extravagantly tonight.

Aoto and Toshisuke—the undoubted greatest heroes of today’s victory, sat together in close proximity to the main seat of the banquet.

Their seating was thus arranged for the convenience of everyone to toast these two heroes.

“Enough, Mr. Chokata, finish this drink and don’t drink anymore.”

Aoto said irritably as he snatched the newly emptied sake cup from Toshisuke’s hand.

Toshisuke was the type who wouldn’t voluntarily touch alcohol but, once he started, wouldn’t stop until he was completely unconscious.

And Toshisuke himself had a modest tolerance, getting tipsy after just a few drinks.

By this time, Toshisuke had no idea how much he had drunk, his pretty face blushing into a cute pink.

His head wobbled as he mumbled and grumbled, the whole person nearly melting into a semi-liquid blob.

Should Toshisuke keep drinking, he’d completely blackout, so Aoto decided swiftly to snatch away Toshisuke’s sake cup.

“Mr. Tachibana is right. Toshisuke, you ought not to drink anymore.”

Chokata Mitsuo agreed from nearby.

By Zhouzhu’s thoughtful arrangement, Chokata Mitsuo and his spouse, as Toshisuke’s relatives, were seated beside him.

On Toshisuke’s left sat Aoto. On the right sat his sister and brother-in-law.

Normally, Toshisuke would likely protest loudly, asserting, “I can still drink! I want to drink!”

But in his current semi-conscious state, it was hard for him to even articulate a complete sentence.

After Aoto took the cup, Toshisuke just blankly looked at his empty hand, then at Aoto and Chokata Mitsuo, who sternly told him he couldn’t drink any more, and then—

“Mmm…~~”

Pouting his lips, he let out a soft, dissatisfied whimper, then quietly picked up his chopsticks and continued eating.

“Mr. Tachibana!”

Suddenly, Harada approached Aoto.

“Come and dance with us!”

“Uh… I think I’ll pass.”

Aoto awkwardly let out a few dry chuckles, politely declining.

Harada and his group’s dance was still a bit too forward for Aoto and for this era.