48 Hours a Day

Chapter 568 Gion Blood War (III)

There were more than twenty samurai in the room, but Kirino Toshiaki, one of the four Hitokiri, was also present.

With only a wakizashi, even an excellent swordsman like Zhang Heng would not be able to take them all on his own. Zhang Heng also considered the option of taking a hostage. The person with the highest value was obviously Choshu leader Shinsaku Takasugi, who happened to be one anti-Bafuku movement’s most important members. His days might be numbered, but once Zhang Heng put a knife around his throat, not a single soul in the room would move a muscle.

That said, standing right beside Shinsaku Takasugi was Kirino Toshiaki, clearly here tonight to deal with situations like that. The man was silent as a rock, but Zhang Heng could sense his eyes following his every move.

Although unpleasant, it was expected, since Zhang Heng and Gabriel were the only ones not part of the anti-Bafuku group. And compared to Zhang Heng, who brought a sword with him, the French businessman looked completely harmless. Even an idiot could tell who was more of a threat.

Of course, Zhang Heng was extremely swift with his sword, a lot faster than most people thought.

If Zhang Heng suddenly attacked Shinsaku Takasugi, Kirino Toshiaki might just be unable to protect him. But Zhang Heng’s goal wasn’t to terminate Shinsaku. If he did, it would be like shaking the hornet’s nest. There was no way Zhang Heng would get out of there alive.

If it were a one-on-one fight, Zhang Heng had nothing to worry about. But in such a tight space, if everyone were to lunge at him all at once, the whole situation would become really dangerous. If threatening to kill Shinsaku Takasugi turned out to be unsuccessful, then Zhang Heng would have to settle for the next best thing and use the French merchant as his shield. The anti-Bakufu clearly needed Gabriel alive. Diplomatic issues aside, if Zhang Heng were to kill him, there would be no one to help them transport weapons and troops into Kyoto.

On the other hand, they had to contemplate one possibility-news that Shinsaku Takasugi was alive might get leaked if they let Zhang Heng escape.

Once Tokugawa Yoshinobu heard of the news, he would be able to surmise that the anti-Bakufu was cooking up a plan to overthrow him. Even if he was half-witted, he wouldn’t risk his life by coming to Kyoto. Moreover, the Kyoto Mimawarigumi and Shinsengumi would most probably gird up their loins—who was to say that the Ikedaya incident would not repeat itself?

Zhang Heng was never the kind to allow anyone to decide his fate. It would not surprise him if these anti-Bafuku warriors chose to sacrifice Gabriel’s life just so they could get their hands on him.

After all, while it might be difficult to find another shipper, losing a partner was better than risking the whole plan being exposed.

So, Zhang Heng decided that in any case, he had to retreat to an open space outside so that whether he chose to fire or flee, he would still be in control. Halfway through the transaction, after both sides had agreed on a framework and were further refining the contract details, Zhang Heng asked to be excused to use the facilities.

Shinsaku Takasugi gave his consent with a nod, even joking that the sky was dark outside and he should be careful not to stumble into the latrine.

Other than Sirino Toshiaki, the entire room was filled with laughter and excited chatter, and the atmosphere seemed harmonious. The French businessman even patted Zhang Heng on the shoulder, commending him for his service tonight. He even said that he would raise Zhang Heng’s salary. Nonetheless, Takeuchi, who was sitting at the corner, seemed distracted.

Zhan Heng got up, opened the shutter door, and walked out. When the doors behind him closed, he saw the maid who had previously stopped him in the courtyard.

She was carrying a lantern, and against the darkness, it made her look like a wandering soul.

“The outhouse is the other way.”

“Thanks, but I want to stretch my legs for a bit,” Zhang Heng answered.

But the maid merely repeated in a monotone: “The outhouse is the other way. If, however, you had a sudden change of mind, then please return to the house. It’s cold here in April, and you should be careful not to catch a cold.”

Zhang Heng smiled back at her and set one foot on the courtyard, ignoring her warning,

The maid drew a deep long sigh. A convoluted look flashed across her icy face. “I’m afraid you don’t understand the significance of your step.”

“No, it’s the first I’ve heard of a teahouse that doesn’t allow its customers to leave,” replied Zhang Heng as he walked towards the woman.

“That is really... such a pity,” said the maid, shaking her head, her slender hand gripping the hilt of her sword. Then she looked Zhang Heng in the eyes. “Forgive me, but I have a duty to fulfill.”

As soon as she said that, a fierce blade of wind hit the nape of Zhang Heng’s neck.

The attacker was standing on the roof of the tea house, waiting quietly like a black cat. It was not until he took the step that represented death that he suddenly jumped down from the sky, taking a swipe at Zhang Heng.

It was a stealth technique used by assassinssilent and deadly, just like death itself. Perhaps ninjutsu from Kai province was interwoven between its moves, making it difficult to guard against.

The blade was seconds away from Zhang Heng’s neck, but suddenly, a wakizashi appeared out of nowhere and pierced through the assailant’s jaw. The tip of the weapon reemerged at the top of his head, mottled with warm, red blood.

This gift from Chiyo’s parents turned out to be a fine sword—its sharpness was in no way inferior to some of the more famous swords. The assailant’s veil fell, and Zhang Heng recognized her.

It was one of the geisha who performed for the guests.

This really was the anti-Bafuku’s base in Kyoto, and the seemingly tender geishas and maidservants were actually Bushi-trained by the sect.

“This is going to be a problem.”

Zhang Heng drew a deep breath. Ukichi tea house covered a vast area, and so were its numerous geisha and maidservants. If they were really all the anti-Bafuku’s bushi, then Zhang Heng would be very busy tonight. But it was too late to turn back and return to the house. Now packed with warriors, including Kirino Toshiaki, the outdoors gave him more space to move around.

The maid who had just witnessed the tragic death of her colleague gave off an indifferent disposition. Perhaps she didn’t draw her sword immediately to repay Zhang Heng for saving her from suicide. Instead, she just stood there, waiting for him to pick the sword he’d buried into the ground earlier that evening.

“I’ve heard of the famous Gion long before I came. Who would have thought that I’ve to kill my way out on my first visit here,” said Zhang Heng as he drew his sword. “Now, whoever wishes death can come here!”