Kazuma was stunned.
You can get a buff from reciting poetry?
No wonder the famed generals of Japan's Warring States period liked to chant poems or perform nō theater before battles.
Then that must mean... the reason Nishiyama Heita held out so long during that fight wasn't because he had no wicked thoughts—he's yakuza, of course he's done terrible things! That can't be it.
Kazuma didn't believe in "good yakuza"—those only existed in video games.
In reality, Nishiyama Heita had done plenty of evil. If Kazuma had lost today, the dojo would've been sold for a pittance, and Chiyoko and Mikako would've faced horrible fates.
So this buff had definitely worked on Nishiyama. The fact that he'd resisted it this long only meant he wasn't an ordinary man.
And now Kazuma was wondering—if Nishiyama claimed Tsuda Masaaki was even more ruthless... just what kind of monster was that man?
His nerves, which had just begun to relax, tensed all over again.
I've got to sell the dojo fast—who knows what kind of demons and devils will show up next.
And I'll need contingency plans too.
If all else failed, he'd have to rely on the power granted by his cheat.
Based on today's fight, when his emotions peaked and he recited poetry, he'd been able to hold his own against a hardened veteran like Nishiyama Heita.
Of course, the battlefield mattered. If they'd fought somewhere cramped and cluttered, Kazuma would've been crushed—no amount of buffs or Chiyoko's support would've helped.
Still, this cheat was useful. At least it allowed him to gauge an opponent's strength and choose favorable ground.
In any case, today's victory had been narrow, reliant on both terrain—and morale. That surge of fighting spirit had definitely counted as the latter.
To get stronger, two obvious paths lay ahead: one, grind levels the honest way. The system displayed numerical stats—it should allow leveling up.
Two, figure out the trigger for emotional surges and learn to activate them at will.
Kazuma decided to try getting angry on command.
He imagined Mikako being harmed—trying to ignite his rage.
Nothing.
Then he tried recalling toxic players from past gaming experiences.
Still nothing.
He ran through several other methods—all failed.
Maybe I can't just force myself into anger. It probably has to be a real situation. When the time comes, it'll happen naturally.
No point rushing to master this for now. Later, if he had time and money, he could hire a top psychologist or an actor to teach emotional control.
For now, he'd test something else.
Poetry buffs.
He silently recited a famous poem from his previous life, then checked his status.
No new buffs. The "Defend the Nation, Punish Evil" buff had also expired.
He tried another poem.
Still nothing.
...So poetry buffs are context-dependent? Only when the mood matches the poem?
To test the theory, Kazuma tried to sense his current state.
The adrenaline from risking his life still lingered. Though his body ached, he felt a liberating lightness—survivor's euphoria.
Given this mood, poetry didn't feel right. A song seemed more fitting.
And not just humming silently—he could hum aloud. It wouldn't seem strange at all.
After all, suddenly reciting poetry would look weird. But humming a little tune after a life-or-death fight? Perfectly natural.
So Kazuma began humming.
He chose a tune that had been wildly popular back home—the theme from Manhunt. He didn't even know its official title; everyone just called it La ya la, since the lyrics were basically endless repetitions of "la ya la."
As he hummed the La ya la melody, his mood subtly shifted.
He couldn't quite describe the change, but when he checked his status bar, a new buff had appeared:
"Song of Victory"
After surviving a battle, enjoy a drink and hum a little tune—good for body and mind.
What the hell?!
Why are these buff descriptions always so vague?! How is it good for body and mind? Explain!
Grumbling aside, Kazuma obediently kept humming. Drinking, though, was out of the question. Japan had strict underage drinking laws—you couldn't just waltz into a store and buy booze at seventeen. And there wasn't a drop of alcohol in the whole Kiryu house.
As he continued humming, Kazuma noticed something surprising—his Combat Experience 3 tag had upgraded to Combat Experience 4.
So that's how it works—you gain extra experience this way?
Who designed this cheat system?! I'd give them a planetary smack if I could—why make it so convoluted?
At this rate, after every fight he'd have to hum a tune, drink a bit, maybe even go watch cherry blossoms, just to collect all his experience.
Sure, it looked classy. But anyone watching would think Kiryu Kazuma was a total weirdo!
**
Nishiyama Heita had been dozing lightly—he trusted Bandō's loyalty completely.
But then he heard Kazuma start humming.
And it was the theme from that famous Takakura Ken film, You Crossed a Furious River (Manhunt).
Nishiyama opened his eyes slightly.
There sat the young man, right in the middle of the dojo, facing the side door.
The side door was wide open. Beyond it lay a surprisingly spacious engawa veranda—far larger than one would expect from the Kiryu family's financial state—and an old courtyard with a dried-up pond.
The Kiryu family had fallen on hard times. The pond had been dry for ages. The bamboo shishi-odoshi water feature had long since stopped working.
Those things were luxury items, meant to cultivate Zen ambiance—not something poor families could afford to maintain.
The entire yard looked run-down—except for one thing: the towering cherry blossom tree, still in full bloom, vibrant and alive.
There was no wind, yet the petals drifted gently in the twilight, as if responding to Kazuma's song.
Nishiyama frowned slightly.
Back when he first came to the mainland from Okinawa, he'd studied kendo for a while and heard many strange tales.
It was said that when a swordsman's skill reached a certain level, they could awaken the "mind's eye" and achieve harmony with heaven and earth.
Nishiyama had always thought that was nonsense.
But now, hearing Kazuma's humming and watching the drifting blossoms, he wasn't so sure.
Could it really be true...?
He stared at the petals for a while. In the end, he convinced himself it was just a breeze he couldn't feel from inside the room.
Still... a man who could hum so calmly after a life-and-death battle—Kazuma was no ordinary youth.
Nishiyama murmured the boy's surname.
"Kiryu..."
Japanese names often shared pronunciations with different kanji. "Kiryu" could mean "桐生"—as in Kazuma's name—or "輝龍," meaning "Radiant Dragon."
A dragon...
Nishiyama sighed softly.
"A dragon stands alone," he whispered.
Kazuma, still humming, didn't hear him. If he had, he'd have been startled—because "Ryū ga kodoku" sounded almost identical to "Ryū ga gotoku."
And Ryū ga Gotoku—Yakuza, in English—was one of Kazuma's favorite games about Japanese organized crime.
The game's title itself carried the meaning: "A dragon stands alone."
If Kazuma had heard Nishiyama's mutter, he might've suspected the man was a fellow transmigrator.
Incidentally, the protagonist of Yakuza was named Kiryu Kazuma—pronounced almost the same as Kiryu Kazuma himself.
Of course, Kazuma had no intention of following in that fictional Kiryu's footsteps.
A dragon from across the sea was not the same as a dragon born on native soil.
Nishiyama knew none of this. He was simply recalling Kazuma's earlier words.
Kazuma had said he would never join the yakuza. At first, Nishiyama hadn't believed him—his plan had been to recruit this sharp young blade when the siblings were desperate.
But now... it seemed Kazuma truly wouldn't join.
What a shame, Nishiyama thought. In the coming clash with the Tsuda-gumi, he'll be crushed.
Nishiyama calmly smoked his cigarette, resigned to witnessing the final days of this young man he'd come to admire.
If you die... I'll take care of your sister.
He said it silently, in his heart.
(End of Chapter)