I jolted awake, my ribs fighting, a throbbing pain radiating through my chest. The bastard's hit still lingered in my bones.
The chamber was exactly as the old man promised — four stone walls, barely lit by flickering candlelight. Shadows danced along the rough, cracked surfaces, like formless spirits. A single sleeping mat sat in one corner, a weathered table nearby, and a large wooden crate shoved up against the far wall.
I was alone.
Good.
Dragging myself up with a grunt, I stumbled to the crate. My body felt like it belonged to someone else — thin, frail, malnourished. Weak. Not for long.
I tore the lid off and peered inside.
There were weapons, books, and scrolls.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed a book, half-expecting to struggle with the language. But the words swam into focus effortlessly.
Japanese.
How the hell…?
I didn't speak it. Not in my past life. Not even a passing familiarity. Yet here, it was as natural as breathing.
Was it this body's knowledge bleeding into mine? Or maybe… no, best not to dwell. Survival first. Answers later.
flip
flip
flip
I devoured the pages like a starving man. Hours, maybe days past by. I lost track. The only sound was the scrape of paper, my own breathing, and the occasional candle sputtering.
And little by little, a picture of this world began to form.
_______________
Tensho.
That's what they called this nation. One massive land ruled by the Imperial Family. An iron dynasty of samurai whose bloodlines stretched back so far their ancestors probably crawled out of myth.
They didn't just rule with swords — they owned the laws, dictated what honor meant, controlled the flow of news and information. Every other faction bent knee to them, even if they seethed while doing it.
Samurai didn't kill out of convenience, it was always about Honor and Reputation. Every battle a performance. Every duel a stage. Theatrics dressed up as righteousness. That's why they hated Shinobi like us.
To them, we were rats. Shadows creeping through their perfect world of ceremony and polished steel. No honor in killing unseen.
I liked that.
______________
There were six major warrior types in Tensho:
Samurai, the noble dogs chasing glory.
Ronin, masterless swordsmen with nothing to lose.
Shinobi, the unseen blades.
Monks, wandering warriors of spirit and fist.
Bounty Hunters, chasing coin and blood.
And Mercenaries, loyal only to weight of gold.
Even within their own ranks, Samurai fought amongst themselves. Nobility vying for power, plotting, forging temporary alliances, and gutting each other the moment they turned their backs.
Weakness was a sin in this land.
_________________
Bushido.
The ancient code. Way of the Samurai.
Loyalty. Honor. Courage. Benevolence. Rectitude. Respect. Sincerity.
A leash disguised as a virtue.
I knew men like that in my past life. Killers who dressed their violence in poetry, convincing themselves murder was noble if it served a "greater cause." This world was no different.
But what intrigued me most… was Ki.
___________
This world thrived on it.
A force born from life itself. Every living thing possessed it, though most would die without ever awakening it.
For warriors, it was everything.
They called the pathways it flowed through Meridian Channels — arteries of power within the body and soul. Strengthen them, and you could harden flesh like iron, see through lies, even kill with a thought.
Four primary types existed:
Seiki- this is the base Ki that everyone is born with strengthen your body, boosts speed and stamina. It's the foundation to being a warrior.
Genso Ki— Some warriors are born with a natural affinity. Fire, Water, Earth, Air. Rare elements exists such as, lightning, shadow, and even ice.
Shingan Ki— Enhances your perception. It lets you sense killing intent, see through a lie, you can predict movements before it happens.
Koken Ki— this is the rarest Ki to awaken, it states that there are only a few strong warriors wielding this power. A suffocating, crushing force of one's will. It's the kind of power that makes other men kneel before you, just by standing there— You can release a wave of Ki, knocking down weak-willed warriors.
I wanted that.
__________
I stretched my stiff limbs, the ache of sitting motionless for… what? A day? Two? More? Time felt irrelevant in this tomb.
But knowledge was never enough. Not in my world. Not in this one.
I rifled through the box again.
A pair of kunai. A short dagger. Rope darts. Smoke bombs.
Why give us weapons so early? A test? Would they turn us against each other? Or perhaps survival here started long before the official trials.
Good.
I hoped they did.
I ran a hand over the smooth wood of a scroll case, opened it.
More about the Seven Retainers — the strongest warriors alive. Each one a living legend, rulers of their own territories, commanders of armies. Their names alone could end a battle before a sword was drawn.
I memorized every word.
If you want to control a world, you learn its monsters first.
___________
A section on Samurai nobility caught my eye.
Five Great Clans sat under the Imperial Family, each governing territories the size of nations. Feudal lords who wore silk in public and drowned their rivals in blood behind closed doors. They maintained strict hierarchies within their ranks:
Daimyo
Retainers
Elite Samurai
Common Samurai
Ashigaru (foot soldiers)
Honor was currency. Reputation, power. Disrespect was met with swift, public death.
And through it all — Shinobi moved unseen.
We didn't bow to honor codes. No loyalty to anyone but the mission. No need for theatrics. Kill. Vanish. Move on.
That, at least, was familiar.
____________
I closed the last book, the final candle a lonely, flickering eye in the dark. My body ached. My stomach twisted in hunger. But my mind? Sharper than it had been since the day I woke up in this cursed place.
I was beginning to see the edges of this world's game board.
And I would carve my name across it.
First, the Yurei Clan. Then, the rest.
I stood, cracking stiff joints. It was time to train. No more books. No more sitting in the dark waiting for fate to gnaw on my bones.
The past was dead.
Only the blade mattered now.