Naturally, Sakiko had been skeptical of Haruki's proposal at first. He was a complete stranger, after all.
However, she had nowhere else to go, and Haruki had stepped in to help her at her most vulnerable moment, earning a baseline level of trust. Through a strange twist of fate, Sakiko moved into Haruki's apartment and became his live-in maid.
In truth, Haruki didn't actually need a maid. He was rarely home; most of his time was spent at school or out in the city "grinding for experience." He only returned to the apartment to rest and maintain his gear.
Over time, Sakiko's suspicion transformed into genuine reliance, leading to the comfortable, if slightly odd, relationship they had now.
"I told you, don't call me 'Shisho,'" Haruki said as he entered the room, tossing his school bag and damp blazer onto the sofa.
Sakiko immediately moved to pick them up and hang them properly. Despite being hired as a maid, her behavior leaned more toward that of a dedicated housemaker.
"But calling you by your name feels disrespectful. Ah, unless... would you prefer I call you 'Master' instead?" Sakiko teased, giving him a playful, mock-judgmental look.
Haruki ignored her. He drew the Kujisada—the legendary blade he had used earlier—from its sheath. As he began to meticulously clean the blade, his mind drifted back to the encounter at the bus stop.
That was the first time he had encountered a genuine spirit in this world. He had assumed this was a purely mundane reality, but it seemed there were entities lurking just beneath the surface of perception. For a normal person, that would be a terrifying thought. For Haruki, it was exhilarating.
His ultimate goal was to acquire peerless sword techniques and reach a level of power that could shake the world. While the Sword Saint System provided the knowledge, it offered no shortcuts for the actual learning process.
This hadn't been an issue with the Wuju Style, which he mastered through physical discipline and meditation. But the Ghost Slayer Arts were different. They were divided into four distinct, complex branches: Bladework, Bloodlust, Wave, and Ghost Power.
So far, Haruki had only mastered the physical "Bladework" branch. The other three—Bloodlust, Wave, and Ghost Power—were metaphysical forces that he couldn't even begin to grasp through normal training. They were too abstract, requiring a form of energy he simply didn't possess.
He had almost resigned himself to never unlocking the true potential of the Ghost Slayer tree in this peaceful world. But the encounter with the ghost and the girl who could see them, Miko, had changed everything.
Clack.
Haruki raised his right hand. A faint, swirling trail of dark miasma—the energy harvested from the ghost he had slain—coalesced above his palm. It was a tiny amount, nowhere near the level of true "Ghost Power," but it was a start.
If he hunted more of these spirits, he could manually refine their energy to replicate the power required for the Ghost Slayer techniques. He would finally understand the essence of the dark blade.
And Ghost Power wasn't the only breakthrough. Within the four branches, he had already begun to touch upon the secrets of the Wave...
When he first unlocked the Ghost Slayer knowledge, Haruki had experimented with every branch. Aside from physical techniques, the "Wave" branch was the one he had made the most progress in.
This was partly because the concept of a "Wave" or "Resonance" was easier to visualize than "Bloodlust," and partly because Haruki already possessed heightened perception thanks to his Wuju Meditation. He soon realized that the essence of the Wave was using senses beyond sight to perceive the vibrations of the world.
Whoosh—
Haruki closed his eyes, allowing his perception to expand outward. Though his eyes were shut, his mind didn't see darkness. Instead, he saw a world of vibrating light—clusters of energy in different hues, representing the raw matter of the universe.
In a way, "Waves" were like the mana used by mages in fantasy stories. However, while a mage absorbs mana into their body, a Ghost Slayer uses Waves to directly manipulate the physical world. Everything has a frequency; if you can control that frequency, you can turn resonance into a weapon, unleashing shockwaves that rival powerful magic.
"..."
Haruki raised his right hand. An invisible, undulating current of air formed in his palm, spinning at a speed the human eye couldn't track. Finally, as the resonance hit its limit, the invisible wave shattered, creating a localized burst of pressure that rippled through the room.
"Still not quite there..."
Haruki felt the energy dissipate. He was close, but he lacked the "real combat" experience needed to bridge the gap between theory and mastery. This world was just too peaceful. Most of the time, his superhuman physical stats were enough to end a fight before he even had to draw his sword.
I really have to count on the Multiverse System, Haruki thought, glancing at the translucent white screen floating in his vision. The countdown was still ticking away. Once it hit zero, he would finally face opponents who could push him to his limits.
"Shisho? You look... unusually happy today," Sakiko noted as she set the table for dinner. She had known him for a while now, but she had never seen him look this genuinely excited.
"I suppose I am," Haruki nodded. He looked at her. "By the way, when are you going to stop calling me 'Shisho'? I'm not your master."
"But you're teaching me the sword, aren't you?"
"I'm just teaching you enough to defend yourself. It's nothing special."
Teaching Sakiko had been a whim. During a long dry spell where no strong opponents appeared, Haruki had tried everything to deepen his own understanding—including teaching others to see if he could learn something from the process.
Unfortunately, while he had successfully trained Sakiko to a level equivalent to a 3rd-dan black belt, it hadn't done much for his own growth. He had become a bit lax with her lessons lately, but Sakiko remained diligent. Despite her average talent, she made up for it with sheer effort, practicing her forms every day. If she ran into those street thugs again, she could probably take them all down by herself now.
"By the way, how is your band going?" Haruki asked, changing the subject.
"Ah, that..." Sakiko hesitated.
She had told Haruki about her past. Back when she was a wealthy socialite, she had formed a band called CRYCHIC. She had poured her heart into it. But after her family fell apart, she had been forced to give it up to work and survive.
Recently, she had officially broken ties with her former bandmates, acting coldly toward them to force a clean break. But she hadn't told Haruki that she had officially given up on her dreams yet.
"I... I have to go do the dishes!" she stammered, making a quick escape to the kitchen.
Haruki noticed her distress, but he didn't pry. To him, the path of the sword was the only thing that truly mattered. The complicated emotions of a teenage girl were far outside his area of expertise.
His mind was already focused on two things: the Multiverse System and the girl named Miko Yotsuya
Miko Yotsuya's home life was currently a living hell.
"Why... why can I still see them?" Miko stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. Behind her, a dark, flickering spirit drifted across the room.
She hadn't reached out to Haruki yet, stubbornly trying to handle it on her own. She had spent the night Googling "exorcism methods" and had placed a mound of salt by her bedside before trying to sleep.
It didn't help. In the middle of the night, she felt a cold, wet sensation under her covers. When she pulled them back, a tiny, gray spirit of an infant was staring at her.
"Ma...ma..." it rasped.
Miko stared back with a hollow, dead-eyed expression, her heart screaming in terror even as her face remained a mask. Her biggest frustration, however, was that she was going to have to change her clothes again...
The next day at Sobu High.
High school life was often long and tedious. While many adults look back on it with rose-tinted glasses, few would actually want to repeat the experience of being a "cog in the machine" while dealing with adolescent hormones and social hierarchies.
Sobu High was a sea of chaos—students trying to find meaning through romance, others burying themselves in books to feel "mature," and others just drifting.
Haruki Aizawa walked toward the remote classroom that housed the Service Club. He was curious to see if Hiratsuka-sensei's "competition" would actually lead to anything interesting. At the very least, it was a place to wait out the final days of his countdown.