The night in the Yoshiwara Entertainment District was brighter than the day.
Flashy lanterns illuminated the streets like high noon, and a thick air, saturated with the scents of incense, cosmetics, and human desire, seeped deep into the lungs.
“Alright, your mission is simple. Infiltrate your respective houses and gather information on the whereabouts of my wives and any suspicious demons. Got it?”
Uzui Tengen growled as he looked down at the three ugly(?) girls plastered with bizarre makeup.
“Understood... but did it have to be this kind of makeup...?”
“I don't think we'll even be sold looking this hideous!”
Tanjiro (Sumiko), Zenitsu (Zenko), and Inosuke (Inoko) put on tearful faces, but Tengen‘s management was peerless.
Leveraging his characteristic gift of gab and overwhelming physical presence, he successfully sold them off for a bargain to the Kyogokuya, Ogimotoya, and Tokitoya houses.
“Good. Now that the little mice have been released, it‘s my turn to move.”
Tengen stepped into a secluded alleyway and cast off his ninja attire.
He changed into a sophisticated, modern boy-style suit he had prepared in advance.
Removing his headband and slicking back his flashy silver hair, he transformed into a top-tier handsome man more dazzling than any other male in Yoshiwara.
The place he headed was Getsukarou, a newly opened four-story Western-style wooden building in the heart of Yoshiwara.
’A women-only tea house...‘
Unlike the traditional brothels of the red-light district where courtesans entertained men, this was a salon where handsome men in suits entertained women—a modern male host club, so to speak.
It was a business conceptualized by Akira and executed immediately by Tamamo, whose eyes had twinkled at the idea.
Tengen opened the doors without hesitation.
“Welcome, guest... Ah, you aren‘t a guest, are you?”
The man who appeared to be the manager hesitated upon seeing Tengen. With a confident smirk, Tengen pushed his own face forward instead of a business card.
“I‘ve come to work. I doubt there‘s a man here who can handle women more flashily than me.”
The interview was over in three seconds.
Tengen‘s overwhelming looks, his robust physique standing over 190 cm tall, and his fluent speech were more than enough to make him the flagship star of Getsukarou.
That night, Getsukarou was turned upside down.
Tengen used his skillful conversational arts and bold physical contact to bewitch the wealthy noblewomen of Yoshiwara and the high-ranking courtesans on their days off.
Tips piled up like mountains, and information rolled in even more easily than the money.
It was near dawn as the establishment‘s business hours were coming to an end.
“Hey, newbie! You were absolutely flying today, weren‘t you?”
A man named Ryota, a veteran host who was the establishment‘s number two, patted Tengen on the shoulder.
He seemed to feel curiosity rather than jealousy toward Tengen‘s performance.
“I played around quite flashily.”
“Khahaha! I like you. Hey, aren‘t you hungry? Let‘s go grab a meal. Big brother‘s treat. There‘s an amazing soup place nearby.”
Ryota led Tengen to a restaurant owned by the Akatsuki Trading Company.
The place was never dark, operating 24 hours a day, bustling with diverse people like hosts, courtesans, and even porters.
“Two bowls of seolleongtang and a large yukhoe over here!”
Ryota ordered with familiarity. Soon, steaming stone pots with milky-white broth and crimson beef tartare were served at the table.
“What... is this?”
Tengen asked as he looked at the white soup. It looked different from typical Japanese soup dishes.
“This is called seolleongtang. They say it‘s a dish from the Joseon Peninsula, and the Akatsuki Chairman supposedly distributed it so the employees could regain their strength. It‘s made by boiling cow bones for several days. One spoonful, and even a dead man would jump up.”
Tengen took a spoonful of the broth. A rich, savory flavor coated his tongue. There was no gamey smell at all; the deep richness traveled down his esophagus, warmly comforting his exhausted stomach.
“...! This is flashily delicious.”
“Right? If you mix in rice and eat it with this red thing called kkakdugi, it‘s the end of the world. And here, try some of this yukhoe, too.”
Ryota popped the egg yolk and mixed the beef tartare, placing a portion on Tengen‘s spoon.
The combination of savory fat that melted in his mouth and the sweet-salty seasoning was exquisite.
“It‘s no exaggeration to say the people here in Yoshiwara survive thanks to the Akatsuki Trading Company. A bowl of this soup is only 5 sen. And look at the portion size.”
Ryota marveled as he slurped the broth.
“Khhh~ As expected, the taste of Joseon‘s seolleongtang is truly top-tier. I never get tired of it no matter how much I eat. One more bowl over here!”
Ryota gulped it down as if washing away the fatigue accumulated from his work.
While eating the yukhoe, Tengen couldn‘t help but be impressed by the high level of food culture.
’I‘ve eaten raw meat many times during training. But this is my first time eating it as a refined dish. Plus, this seasoning is also flashily delicious. I can see why the Akatsuki Trading Company is so popular with the public. Rengoku said he had to acknowledge the company‘s food. He was right.‘
“The other trading companies are busy sucking us dry, but Chairman Nagao is different. The employee benefits are the best, and he feeds us cheap and delicious food like this. Who wouldn‘t be loyal? It‘s ’Long live Akatsuki‘ for us. Even our shop is a subcontractor supported by the company. Maybe that‘s why it‘s so good to live here. Khuhuhu. You‘re a lucky guy too. Getting in without even an interview. You‘re blessed.”
Tengen silently mixed his rice into the soup. This method of operating by the company wasn't mere charity.
By controlling food, clothing, and shelter—especially food, the most vital one—they were winning the support and loyalty of the people at the bottom of Yoshiwara. It was a strategy.
’Scary people. They aren‘t buying public sentiment with money; they‘re buying it with rice. It‘s natural that information gathers here. This place is the center of information.‘
In the East, the "power of a meal" is important in any country. Being a Korean in his previous life, Akira knew the importance of a warm meal and dominated the market by mastering the food culture.
Not just in Yoshiwara, but throughout Tokyo and Kyoto, and now extending his influence all over Japan.
Instant foods, including ramen, were sold across the country.
Canned goods and instant meals in particular were being purchased in bulk by the military. Of course, since Akira didn‘t like the military, he sold them at a price slightly higher than the retail consumer price.
And through international businessmen, he sold to various countries overseas. Among them were the United States and Britain.
He had already reached the peak of the food industry in this era.
Tengen looked around. The conversations of the courtesans at the next table, the complaints of the porters behind him... He felt like he could read the flow of Yoshiwara just by listening to the stories exchanged within this restaurant.
As they stepped outside after finishing the meal, the atmosphere of the street was unusual. Large crowds were flocking to the main road.
“Oh! Perfect timing! Today is the day of Ibuki Oiran-sama‘s special procession!”
Ryota‘s eyes sparkled as he grabbed Tengen‘s arm and pulled him along.
“Ibuki? Who‘s that?”
“The top Oiran of Mugenrou! No, she‘s a living legend of Yoshiwara. She‘s an enchantress who never gets drunk no matter how much she drinks, and men lose their minds and hand over all their fortunes once they see her dance. It‘s no exaggeration to say Ibuki rules the nights of Yoshiwara these days.”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The sound of drums resonated, and a flashy procession appeared. Between attendants holding red umbrellas, a palanquin shimmering as if sprinkled with gold dust emerged.
Atop it lay a woman reclining casually, her purple kimono loosened, a kiseru pipe in her mouth.
Ibuki Oiran. No, her true identity was the demon Shuten Douji. She was tilting a gourd and drinking alcohol directly from it, looking down at the crowd with eyes full of madness.
’That is... what is this? Somehow, the presence is familiar. What is it? Is that possibly the demon? But according to the last information Hinatsuru sent, the proprietress had info on an Oiran who had been living here for at least several decades.‘
Tengen‘s nerves were on edge.
It was definitely a demon. He was sure of it. However, because her appearance was different and she was hiding her presence, he didn't recognize her as the Shuten he had met in the past.
However, what truly shocked Tengen was not her. It was the three women in kimonos following her palanquin as if guarding it.
Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma.
“……!!”
Tengen‘s heart plummeted. They weren‘t tied up, nor were they being tortured. They were attending to Shuten, waving their hands toward the crowd.
“Kyaaa! Suma-chan! Look over here!”
“Makio-sama! Please step on me!”
“Hinatsuru-sama is a goddess today too!”
Their expressions amidst the cheers of the crowd... looked happy.
Though their eyes were slightly dull and unfocused, incredibly ecstatic smiles hung on their lips.
It was as if they had completely lost their identity as ninjas, coquetting for the audience with seductive poses.
“Ibuki-sama, the alcohol is out. Shall I get more?”
“Ahaha, look at those people. They‘re all looking only at us.”
The sight of Suma and Makio conversing with Shuten Douji playfully was shocking.
It was natural, as if they were sisters or long-time friends.
“Eh? Newbie, what‘s wrong? See a familiar face?”
Ryota looked at the frozen Tengen in confusion.
Tengen couldn‘t answer. His clenched fists dug his nails into his palms until blood seeped out.
A mixture of anger, despair, and guilt boiled up from the pit of his stomach.
’Brainwashed... thoroughly.‘
They weren‘t just captured. Their very hearts had been violated, and they had become the enemy‘s ornaments.
Within that flashy procession, they were smiling for a demon, completely forgetting the existence of their husband, Tengen.
“……No. It‘s just so flashy... it‘s practically dazzling.”
Tengen forced a smile, but his eyes were cold and sunken.
The procession passed, and the massive gates of Mugenrou closed. Tengen glared at those closed doors, renewing his resolve.
’Wait for me. I‘m bringing my wives back. And you lot, whether it‘s the Akatsuki Trading Company or demons... I‘ll smash you flashily along with that filthy dining table of yours.‘
In the middle of Yoshiwara, ruled by the Night King. Disguised as the flashiest handsome man, the Sound Hashira began to quietly sharpen his blade to reclaim what was most precious to him.
However, he did not know.
He knew this street was Akatsuki Trading Company‘s base and that virtually all the shops were under Akatsuki‘s umbrella.
But he didn‘t know that most of them weren‘t just subcontractors like the shop he was in, but places directly managed and operated by the company itself.
He couldn't imagine a general business reaching out its hand to the ill-reputed business of brothels.
That was his blind spot.
He was unaware they directly operated the brothels themselves. Mugenrou and the other houses here were all paradises of decadence run by the Akatsuki Trading Company.