I Teach Kendo in Tokyo

Chapter 1: My Balance Is Running Low, So Let’s Sell the Dojo First

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

When Kiryuu Kazuma heard the sound of the door opening from the other side of the entryway, he immediately took a deep breath.

‘This is the moment of truth!’ He planned to move Chiyoko’s heart with delicious food and then sell the dojo…

Actually, Kazuma was not particularly good at cooking, but it should be enough to fool the 14-year-old Chiyoko.

He had just adjusted his facial expression when Chiyoko appeared in front of the kitchen door. “Brother, what are you doing?”

“Here’s some Mapo Tofu for you. Does it smell nice?”

To the Japanese, there were two types of Chinese cuisine: Tianjin Fried Rice and Mapo Tofu.

Actually, Tianjin Fried Rice was not a Chinese dish at all, so Kazuma did not know how to make it. He did not even know how it tasted like. After all, he had just transmigrated two weeks ago, and his current family did not have the money to eat Chinese food.

Nevertheless, Kazuma knew how to make Mapo Tofu.

Kazuma even went to the shopping street and asked the manager of a Yaohan store for a bottle of Guizhou Chili Sauce. He wanted to get Lao Gan Ma, but it was 1980, before Grandma Tao had industrialized her crafts. The Lao Gan Ma Group would only be established 16 years from now.

Even this bottle of so-called Guizhou Chili Sauce might not have really come from Guizhou. But after tasting it, Kazuma felt that it was okay.

Kazuma had tried the Mapo Tofu that he made. He believed that his sister Chiyoko would definitely like it.

After gaining his sister’s favor, he would persuade her to sell the dojo!

Chiyoko sniffed hard. “Yes, it smells nice. Brother, how did you know how to make this?”

“I learned from a cooking tutorial on the TV!” Kazuma said. He knew she would ask, so he had prepared the answer beforehand.

Chiyoko looked at Kazuma suspiciously, but in the end, she decided not to pursue the matter. “Alright. I bought some ingredients for curry, but we can cook it tomorrow. Is the rice cooked?”

“Of course!”

“And the miso soup?”

Kazuma hesitated for a moment—crap, he had forgotten about the soup. Japanese people were similar to those from Guangdong in the sense that soups were a must in every meal, and they would feel unhappy without a bowl of miso soup.

And since the family he had transmigrated to ran a dojo, they were even more particular about traditions and they had an unusual persistence in this aspect.

Chiyoko sighed. She threw her school bag on the dining table and began to roll up the sleeves of her school uniform.

It was still early spring, not the time for Japanese schools to change their uniforms. Chiyoko was wearing her winter uniform, which was a long sailor suit from the Koshikawa Girls’ Junior High School, as well as a sweater that the school had given to every student.

Although it was early spring, it was still very cold in Japan. When Kazuma went out, he could not help but hope he had a down jacket. However, Chiyoko was only wearing a sweater and a long sailor suit with a short skirt. Just looking at her made one feel cold.

Kazuma had advised Chiyoko to wear thicker black stockings, but she said that it would make her legs look fatter and insisted on wearing the 80 denier tights.

Her slender legs in the translucent tights were naturally pleasing to the eye, but it was obvious from Chiyoko’s face that she was freezing.

Chiyoko armed herself with an apron, opened the refrigerator, and took out the fish and kelp. “Did you use up all the tofu? You should have at least left a piece for making miso soup. However, since this Mapo Tofu is so good, let’s make do today.”

Chiyoko swiftly threw the processed fish into the frying pan. It would taste better after being fried to add to the taste of the miso soup.

Kazuma said, “You can rest. I’ll do it.”

The Mapo Tofu was ready, so Kazuma had nothing else to do. He did not want to just stand there and watch.

Chiyoko glanced at him. She had no intention of stopping her cooking.

Suddenly, she asked, “Brother, are you going to bring up the topic of selling our dojo again?”

Kazuma was caught off guard by her unexpected question.

Chiyoko sighed. “Knew it.”

“The offer from Sumitomo Construction has already reached 70 million yen. If we sell this house, we can buy an apartment with a good location, and we will still have a lot of money left…” Kazuma immediately started to persuade her.

Chiyoko slapped the chopping board with the spatula in her hand, sending the kitchen knife on the chopping board into the air. However, Kazuma caught the knife before Chiyoko could.

“Chiyoko, even though you have been trained in the Rishin Style1, I am the assistant coach of the dojo,” Kazuma reminded his sister seriously.

“So you do remember that you are the assistant coach! Didn’t you promise to bring the dojo to greater heights when Dad became critically ill?”

Kazuma cursed silently in his heart. ‘The one who’d made the promise was your real brother, not me.’

Kazuma’s current body was not his own. It belonged to a Japanese young man called Kiryuu Kazuma. However, the soul in his body was that of a Chinese man from the future, Wang Jian.

As a transmigrator from 2020 to 1980, Kazuma had a clear understanding of what he should do.

Since he had already transmigrated, he definitely had to do something.

He had not thought of a specific career, but it was not wrong to earn some money first.

The Japanese family that Wang Jian had transmigrated to owned a rundown dojo that had no students, and all the adults in the family were dead. The siblings were relying on their savings to survive.

Judging from the amount of savings, it was apparent that the Kiryuu family did not benefit from Japan’s thriving economy. The siblings had no choice but to budget their expenses carefully. Even so, they could only last until Kazuma’s high school graduation.

And that was the case should there be no unexpected incidents. If Kazuma or Chiyoko were to fall sick, considering the exorbitant price of Japanese medical treatment, they would probably end up sleeping on the streets.

Therefore, Kazuma must earn money.

In his past life, Kazuma had led an extravagant life. He worked at a foreign trade company that was doing well. He thought that since the company was doing so well, it would never go bankrupt. In the end, he spent his entire salary while enjoying his life.

Unexpectedly, however, at the beginning of 2020, the world economy suffered a heavy blow due to a well-known reason. Kazuma’s company lost all of their trade orders in an instant, and they soon declared bankruptcy to seek legal protection.

Kazuma was left penniless overnight and could not even pay his rent.

He had learned his lesson the hard way.

This time, he was determined to plan ahead and earn some savings first. The more savings he had, the better.

Therefore, after figuring out the situation, he had been busy thinking about how to get money.

The fastest way was to sell the dojo.

Right now, Japan had just entered the 1980s, a golden era of wealth and leisure. There were constructions everywhere, and the Kiryuu family’s dojo happened to be in a newly-assigned redevelopment area.

Sumitomo Construction, which was in charge of the redevelopment project, had visited Kazuma’s house three times since Kazuma’s transmigration two weeks ago, and the price they offered was getting higher and higher.

Naturally, Kazuma was tempted. Compared to recruiting students and restoring the dojo from scratch, selling it was indeed a faster way to earn money.

After selling the dojo, he could use the money to invest in some industries that he knew would definitely succeed in the future. For example, he could buy some shares from Apple Inc. or go to Kyoto to find the hanafuda1 producer Nintendo. All of these were possible, but the prerequisite was that he had to earn the starting fund first.

And selling the dojo was the fastest way to get that much fund.

This had to be done quickly. It was 1980, and the Nintendo Entertainment System would be able to develop the FC Twin in just two years’ time. By then, even 70 million yen would not be enough to buy a single share of Nintendo.

It was the same for other investments too. If one missed the opportunity, the entry threshold would soon be hundreds of times higher.

He had to earn his starting fund quickly! The sooner the better!

Anyway, it would take too long to revitalize the family’s dojo business.

Besides, even if he wanted to restore the past glory of the dojo, Kazuma was incapable of doing it.

It was not that he was not strong enough. Before he transmigrated, he was a fan of cold weapons. In fact, he had even practiced under a certified Shinto Style1 master, who had come to Beijing to open a branch dojo. In the end, Kazuma even earned a belt.

Even though he had not mastered everything about Shinto swordsmanship, he was perfectly qualified to be an assistant coach in kendo. Besides, this new body of his had inherited Kiryuu Kazuma’s muscle memory, experience, and knowledge. After all, Kiryuu Kazuma was a real kendo prodigy who had won prefectural championships and had gone to national competitions.

However, who would come to the dojo of an 18-year-old high school student to learn kendo? Wouldn’t it be better to learn from an experienced master at a more established dojo?

Therefore, selling the dojo was a reasonable decision.

However, there was a stumbling block, and that was Kiryuu Kazuma’s sister, Kiryuu Chiyoko.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Brother!” Chiyoko glared at Kazuma. “We have so many memories associated with the dojo, yet you are willing to sell it for 70 million!”

“Chiyoko.” Kazuma put the knife out of Chiyoko’s reach and advised her earnestly, “It’s enough to keep the memories in your heart. Do you think those memories are superficial things that will disappear once we sell the dojo? Isn’t that an insult to those precious memories?”

“When did you become so good at quibbling?” Chiyoko asked.

“I’m serious! Look how miserable our life is now…”

“How is this miserable?! Don’t we have enough clothes, food, and a roof over our heads?” Chiyoko interrupted Kazuma.

“How long has it been since you bought new clothes?” Kazuma asked.

“Well… New clothes are not a necessity!”

“Aside from that, you’re already 14 years old. It’s time to put on some makeup!” Kazuma didn’t relent. Unlike Chinese girls, Japanese girls started to wear makeup since they were young.

“I don’t want to join the girl gang, nor do I want to be the center of attention of the class. I don’t need cosmetics!”

“Even so… I can’t afford to go to a university with our meager savings!”

“Then why don’t you try harder and win a national championship?! That way, there will be schools welcoming you with scholarships!”

Kazuma wanted to argue further, but Chiyoko interrupted, “In any case, if you sell the dojo, I will jump down from the Tokyo Tower!”

Kazuma had no choice but to shut up.

In the online novels he had read before he transmigrated, there were plenty of male protagonists who were determined to become stronger and pursue great success. If he were one of those male protagonists, he would probably ignore Chiyoko’s suicide threat and sell the dojo anyway. In any case, this girl was not blood-related to him and they’d only met less than two weeks ago.

But Kazuma could not bring himself to do it.

Chiyoko was an obedient and sensible girl when they were not arguing about the dojo. She took on almost all the housework and was very considerate toward her brother. She was a very good sister, and a good-looking one.

Kazuma could not simply carry out his plan pretending as if she didn’t exist.

‘It’s okay. Faith can move mountains. Be patient and keep on trying, and one day…’

Kazuma looked at Chiyoko’s angry face. When he was about to say something to lighten up the atmosphere, the doorbell rang.

Chiyoko clicked her tongue. “Tsk, it must be Sumitomo Construction again!”

She turned off the fire and stormed out of the kitchen, heading toward the entryway. Then, she suddenly thought of something and turned to enter the dojo.

Kazuma hurried to catch up. At the entrance of the dojo, he bumped into Chiyoko, who came out with a bamboo sword.

“What are you doing?”

“Make those guys give up their unrealistic thoughts!”

Chiyoko pushed Kazuma away and rushed to the door with her bamboo sword.

Kazuma ran over, but he could not stop Chiyoko from opening the door.

“Don’t come here ever again! Otherwise, I’ll beat you up until your heads are swollen!”

“Chiyoko! What are you doing? The police will come after us if we really beat them up! What happened to you?”

Kazuma looked at Chiyoko, who looked as if she had been struck by a petrification spell. Confused, he glanced outside.

Four burly men stood outside the door. Although they were wearing suits, the color of their suits was unusually dramatic.

The leader was dressed in a black blazer with white floral patterns. He was wearing a bright red shirt inside.

He did not wear a tie, and there was a thumbnail-sized emblem on the collar of his blazer.

Seeing this, Kazuma knew at once that they were from the legendary yakuza1.

The man in the floral blazer remained silent. The bald man beside him took a step forward and shouted at Chiyoko, “Whose heads are you going to beat until they’re swollen, kid?!”

Chiyoko was just a 14-year-old girl. She had never seen a real yakuza member before. Frightened, she took two steps back and almost dropped the bamboo sword in her hand.

Kazuma stepped forward and pulled Chiyoko behind him. He took the bamboo sword from his sister.

“Who are you?” he asked.

In fact, Kazuma was well aware who they were. In Japan, it was common for yakuza to collude closely with construction agencies. Many yakuza groups were founded by construction workers and dockworkers in search of self-protection.

Needless to say, these people in front of him were definitely the “collaborators” working with Sumitomo Construction.

At this moment, the man in the floral blazer said, “Don’t get us wrong. We are your new neighbors. Our office is just two blocks away. We look forward to keeping a great rapport with you.”

The bald man put his hands in his pockets and leaned closer to Kazuma. He pursed his fat lips and said, “Looking forward to working with you~”

Despite his kind-sounding words, his fierce tone and uvular pronunciations typical of yakuza members were obviously a threat.

It seemed like if the siblings insisted on keeping the dojo, these people would find trouble with them soon.

The man in the floral blazer waved his hand and left with his suited men.

Chiyoko peeked out from behind Kazuma and grimaced as they walked away.

Kazuma said, “Let’s sell the dojo. Otherwise, these people will continue to cause trouble.”

“No! Let them come! Japan is the safest country in the world!” Chiyoko was stubborn.

Kazuma held his forehead. What a naughty sister!

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By right, Kazuma should be happy to have a younger sister, a house, and two dead parents after he had transmigrated.

However, if this went on, he would have to put to the test what he had learned in 2020.

The Shinto Style was said to be a school of swordsmanship that placed the most emphasis on actual combat effectiveness. Kazuma wondered if it would be useful in fighting off gangsters.

As he thought about this, Kazuma looked at the bamboo sword in his hand.

‘Just in case, I should practice my sword skills tonight.’