My Gang of Swordsmen

It’s not just the ordinary folks with no one to rely on; even the ordinary samurai without any status or background would choose to walk away when they see “the Shimizu Clan” on the street, trying to avoid getting involved with them at all costs.

Even without considering personal feelings of “hatred for criminal gangs,” from a practical standpoint of “getting involved with such a malevolent and ruthless group is asking for trouble,” Aoto didn’t want any association with “the Shimizu Clan” either.

Sasaki paid no mind to Aoto’s indifferent attitude and smiled with pursed lips.

“Many stalls here are under the protection of our ‘Shimizu Clan.’ That’s why I’m patrolling around here with my subordinates. Mr. Tachibana, are you waiting for someone now?”

“What do you think?” Aoto responded in his usual indifferent tone.

“Hahaha, predicting Sir’s future movements… I don’t have such abilities.”

Sasaki’s laughter greatly eased the tense atmosphere constructed by Aoto’s aloofness.

“Since you have important matters to attend to, I won’t disturb you any longer.”

Perhaps from Aoto’s indifference, he realized that Aoto wasn’t inclined to chat… or perhaps he had his own work to attend to, making it inconvenient to linger with Aoto.

In any case, after courteously adding, “Please excuse me,” Sasaki gave a gentle bow, gracefully saluting Aoto.

“Mr. Tachibana, may you have a wonderful night.”

After saying this, he turned away, leading his subordinates who were standing to his left and right, and left without pausing.

Aoto silently watched Sasaki’s departing figure… only withdrawing his gaze after Sasaki had completely merged with the crowd.

—What on earth does “the Shimizu Clan” want to do…?

These questions bubbled in Aoto’s mind like boiling water, causing his brows to knit slightly.

He didn’t know if it was his illusion, but he felt that “the Shimizu Clan” was being excessively warm towards him!

If “the Shimizu Clan” intended to build a good relationship with him, who was currently rising rapidly… then there should be no need to treat him so kindly.

Aoto’s intuition told him that the reason “the Shimizu Clan” was being so kind to him was likely due to a deeper motive.

As for what exactly that motive was… Aoto just couldn’t figure it out.

The strong questions circling in his mind cast an indistinct “dark fog” over Aoto’s face.

However, after a brief moment, as if under some magic spell, the “dark fog” on Aoto’s face dissipated spectacularly.

Because it was at this moment that a pleasant, bell-like female voice sounded from behind him:

“Aoto! Sorry! I’m late!”

This time, the voice that resounded wasn’t one that would cast a shadow over Aoto’s expression, but one that promptly softened the lines on his face.

“Good evening, Awu. I just got here too…”

As Aoto spoke, he turned towards the voice, coming face to face with Mukiwa, who had finally arrived.

Instantly, Aoto’s expression froze, and the words that had been on his lips were stalled.

The world had split apart—this was the scene unfolding before Aoto’s eyes at that moment.

The “light” focused entirely on Mukiwa, making her slender figure stand out starkly against everything around her, creating a dramatic contrast and an unusual atmosphere.

The interplay of “dark” and “light”… the existence of “dark” greatly accentuated the brilliance of “light.”

The stark difference between light and darkness split Aoto’s world into two parts: “Mukiwa” and “the areas where I can’t see Mukiwa.”

As Aoto expected, Mukiwa, with a strong fondness for red, was wearing a bright red yukata.

The clean, brand new, and cute yukata was embroidered with a large amount of exquisite and complex patterns.

A wide pale yellow belt, tied just below her southern hemisphere, hugged her slender waist.

The hem of the yukata reached only her calves, revealing a pair of fair, smooth calves that looked irresistibly touchable.

Following the elegant lines of her calves downward, there were her adorable little feet, without socks, wearing flat wooden clogs with red straps.

The yukata is characterized by its thin and light nature… meaning it’s much more form-fitting compared to a regular kimono.

For those with a build similar to a man’s, wearing a yukata or a kimono made little difference.

But for a “big” girl like Mukiwa, the distinction between wearing a yukata and a traditional kimono was significant.

The thin fabric clung closely to Mukiwa’s skin… highlighting the significant presence of two heavy mounds.

These two large, heavy mounds naturally rested on the pale yellow belt tied just below her southern hemisphere.

This ornate yukata and fine pale yellow belt were both firsts for Aoto to see.

If Aoto were to simply comment on Mukiwa’s attire, besides “it’s so cute, and suits Mukiwa very well,” he couldn’t think of anything more fitting.

If the outfit was merely cute, it wouldn’t be enough to cause such a significant change in Aoto’s expression at this moment.

The main reason for the split in Aoto’s current visual perception into two parts was Mukiwa’s makeup.