Chapter 65: Silver Soul (Earth Arc)

The stench of blood was overwhelming—how revolting. Takeko Okakura fanned the air with her hand as she finally neared the rooftop.

Bang! She heard a thunderous crash from the top floor, followed by the faint, piercing scream of a child.

"Gin-san—!"

That was Haruta’s voice! Takeko rushed upward, finally reaching the highest floor, where she found Haruta clinging to the railing, crying as he looked down into the hall below.

"Haruta! Are you alright?" Takeko ran over.

"Big Sister Okakura..." Haruta looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. "Gin-san, he..."

Takeko turned her gaze downward. Through the thick dust and scattered rubble, she saw a figure collapsed by the wall—his white kimono soaked in blood, disheveled silver hair streaked with gray ash, his head hanging lifelessly, as limp as a rag.

"Gin... Gin-san..." Takeko was stunned.

"What a pitiful man. His country, his king, everything he could protect is gone, and in the end, he dies protecting someone else." Hosen, standing before Gintoki, sneered.

Shut up... shut up... Takeko clenched her fists tightly.

"You want so desperately for the sword in your hand to have meaning? Such a sword protects nothing..."

"Not even your own life," Hosen said, looking down contemptuously at Gintoki sprawled on the ground.

"Old man! Shut up!"

Takeko could no longer hold back. She drew the collapsible spiked club from her bosom and leapt over the railing.

"Big Sister Okakura!" Haruta cried out in alarm.

"Ha, another one come to die?" Hosen scoffed.

"My, so you’re unharmed after all." Kamui, sitting atop the statue, chuckled lightly.

Takeko shot him a cold glare. He must be the bastard who killed those Hundred Blossoms women. They belonged to Hosen; he wouldn’t have touched them. Gin-san might have knocked them aside, but he’d never kill them. That left only Kamui, and his hands were still stained with black blood...

But now wasn’t the time to get entangled with Kamui. Takeko turned back to Hosen, rage burning so fiercely inside her that it was almost unbearable.

"Old man, I’ll never forgive you. What you did to that curly-haired guy was unforgivable—absolutely unforgivable!" Her eyes blazed with killing intent as she stared at Hosen.

"That’s my pet, you bastard!"

"Hahaha, you’re all just ants to me. No matter how many come, I’ll crush every single one." Hosen laughed.

"Then Lord Hosen, prepare to taste the strength of these ants!" Takeko shouted, raising her spiked club and charging at him, delivering a heavy blow.

Hosen hastily lifted his umbrella to block the strike, but a flash of surprise crossed his eyes as he looked at Takeko.

This woman... she’s strong.

Takeko put all her strength into her left hand, struggling without her right, which left her at a disadvantage.

"Big Sister Okakura!" Haruta shouted in concern.

"Haruta! Run—take your mother and get out of here!" Takeko managed to say through gritted teeth.

"Big Sister Okakura..." Tears streamed down Haruta’s face as he looked at her.

"Now isn’t the time for tears, is it?" Kamui’s smiling face appeared before Haruta.

"The last request that samurai staked his life on, and that woman down there bought you some time. You’d better do as you’re told," Kamui said, twirling his ahoge.

Haruta took a deep breath, then dashed toward the room where Hirowa was imprisoned.

A flicker of surprise passed through Takeko’s eyes. What is Kamui planning? Isn’t he on Hosen’s side?

But in her moment of distraction, Hosen lowered his umbrella and swept it hard at her plastered right arm. Takeko was sent flying into the statue where Kamui sat.

"Ugh, cough—!" Sliding off the statue and collapsing to the ground, Takeko clutched her stomach and spat out a mouthful of blood. This old man’s strength was monstrous. If only her right hand were intact, she could hold out longer, but with only her left, she was at a huge disadvantage.

"My, how pathetic," Kamui smiled down at her.

"Bah!" Takeko spat at Kamui, deepening his smile.

Hosen stood where he was, coldly watching Haruta run toward Hirowa.

"All that effort, wasted," he snorted.

Takeko looked over—Haruta had reached Hirowa.

"Mother, let’s go! We need to escape, now!" Haruta said, grabbing Hirowa’s hand. "Hurry, Mother!"

But Hirowa hung her head, silent, unresponsive.

"Don’t you want to leave this place, Mother?" Haruta asked in confusion.

Hirowa turned to look at him. "I... I can never escape from Yoshiwara..."

"What are you saying? After all this... Why would you say that now, Mother?" Haruta forced a laugh.

"I’m sorry, Haruta. Please, go by yourself."

"Mom..." Something dawned on Haruta. He hurried over and lifted the hem of Hirowa’s kimono.

"No, don’t—stop, Haruta!" Hirowa cried, trying to stop him, but he had already seen the truth.

On Hirowa’s pale ankle were two hideous scars. Her tendons had been severed. Tears spilled down Haruta’s cheeks again. Why? Why would they do this to his mother?

"I told you—every woman in Yoshiwara belongs to me. They can go nowhere," Hosen’s cold voice pressed down on Takeko and Haruta like a heavy stone.

"Even if they wish to fly away, there’s no sky here for them, and as for wings to fly, I broke those long ago."

"Hirowa... She can’t even stand, let alone walk. She can never leave my grasp," Hosen said, turning back with a triumphant smile.

"Hosen!" Takeko roared, swinging her spiked club at him.

She missed—he had vanished. As she gasped in surprise, she sensed a murderous aura behind her.

"If your left hand still works, then I’ll just cripple it too!" Hosen’s umbrella was drawing closer and closer to her arm.

No! I can’t lose my left hand!

With a desperate cry, she flung herself backward, dodging the attack, but Hosen pressed his advantage, striking her in the stomach and slamming her into the ground.

"I told you, you’re overestimating yourself!" Hosen declared, stomping hard on Takeko’s stomach.

Damn it, this bastard! The foot on her stomach felt as heavy as a thousand pounds—she couldn’t move at all.

What should she do? What could she possibly do...?

"My master really is stubborn. No wonder people find you so detestable," Kamui said idly.

"Hmph!" Hosen shot him a glare. That brat always had something infuriating to say.

"Hirowa, the mother-son game is over. A filthy prostitute can never be a mother. I’ll prove it right now."

"I’ll kill that brat!" Hosen hefted his umbrella onto his shoulder, pressing down even harder with his foot.

This rotten old man! Takeko coughed up blood beneath Hosen’s heel.

"Oh dear, why so agitated? As my master, you’re truly disappointing," Kamui commented, his smile unchanged.

"You haven’t changed at all in eight years—hurting prostitutes, destroying their value as commodities, yet still keeping them around."

"But to you, Hirowa isn’t just a commodity, is she? You need her as a woman."

"Hmph." Hosen let out a cold laugh. "I need her? I thought you’d say something else."

"In fact, it’s the opposite. With this power, I can have all the money, authority, and women I want. Yet there’s one thing I can never obtain..."

"For me, no, for all Yato, she is the most terrifying—our one and only nemesis..."

"Yes, the sun!"

"No matter what suffering she endures, her eyes never lose their light. No matter how much pain she faces, her soul never falls. She stands proud, just like the sun!"

"I want to drag the sun underground, to possess it. Nothing else can satisfy my hunger."

"Submit to me, Hirowa. You belong to me!" Hosen shouted in her direction.

...Takeko was amazed—who would have thought this old man, at his age, could still spout such nauseating words.

"If you dare, then come and try!"

"Even if you cover the sky with clouds, I’ll make it clear again! Even if you keep making Mother cry, I’ll find a way to bring back her smile!"

Haruta’s voice rang out. Takeko looked up to see the small boy carrying Hirowa on his back, struggling forward step by step, his eyes shining with determination.

Haruta... Yes, giving up is not an option! Giving up means defeat!

"Don’t give up!" She hadn’t lost yet! Takeko slammed her left fist into Hosen’s leg, catching him off guard and knocking him over.

She stood, grabbed her spiked club, and pointed it at Hosen. "The sun belongs to the sky. Haruta will make it rise again!"

"Haruta! Take the sun and walk out of here!" she shouted.

"Damn it! Will all of you stand in my way?!" Hosen roared and attacked Takeko again.

Because of the death of that curly-haired man, she had indeed felt fear toward Hosen—a mixture of anger and dread.

But now! She was afraid of nothing. Hadn’t she prepared for death long ago? If she died today, so be it—as long as she stood with that curly-haired fool...

Takeko grinned fiercely and threw herself into battle with Hosen, pouring all her strength into her left hand. Her spiked club clashed with Hosen’s umbrella, sending shockwaves through the air.

Watching this, Kamui’s eyes widened, his mouth stretching into a crazed, almost terrifying grin.

How entertaining—his prey!

"You’re quite reliable, kid."

That was Tsukuyo’s voice? Takeko was surprised she’d arrived so soon.

"Getting distracted in battle, little girl—you’re still too green!" Hosen’s smile turned dangerously wide.

Not good! Takeko tried to dodge, but Hosen’s left hand clamped onto her right arm like an iron vise.

She struggled, but her right hand was useless—she couldn’t break free.

"Die, little girl!" Hosen cackled, raising his umbrella to smash her head.

Is this really the end...? Takeko stared up at the descending umbrella. Was this how she would die...?

Bang! The crash echoed through the entire floor.

"Oh my, she’s still alive~." Kamui’s bright blue eyes fixed on the center of the swirling dust.

"Gin... Gin-san..." Takeko stared blankly at the man standing before her. That wild-haired fool was alive...

She was so happy. So happy...

"Gin-san..." She called his name again, as if to confirm he truly lived.

"You’re too noisy, you know—waking me from my sleep." Gintoki turned, his bloodied face still wearing that familiar smile.

"Really now, why are you crying? You look hideous when you cry—Godzilla should be roaring in anger, not shedding tears. Tears don’t suit you at all," Gintoki said, his tone as irreverent as ever.

She cried...? Takeko touched her face—her palm came away wet and cold. She really had been crying...

"Unbelievable. You’re still alive after all. Looks like I’ll have to finish you off for good this time," Hosen said, retrieving his fallen umbrella. That Earthling samurai had just knocked it away—and even kicked his hand to free the girl.

What a cockroach of a man...

"Back on your feet," Kamui watched the battle below with a delighted, almost maniacal grin. Coming to Earth had certainly been worth it.

"I thought you were dead, loser," Tsukuyo called from above.

"Don’t talk nonsense. I was just taking a nap. Some people are just too loud and woke me up," Gintoki replied with a smile.

...Takeko wondered, was she the loud one?

"You’re all equally noisy. But since you made a promise, you’d better keep it. Lying to courtesans has serious consequences," Tsukuyo said, raising her kunai. The Hundred Blossoms behind her did the same, lifting their weapons.

Takeko stood as well. She could still fight. She wouldn’t lie here and do nothing. If her hand was broken, she’d use her feet; if her feet failed, she’d fight with her head. Even if she were torn apart, she would fight to the end with these people!

"That’s why I hate women in your line of work—they always try to extort you. Win or lose, it’s all hell for me," Gintoki grumbled, raising his sword.

All of them surrounded Hosen, weapons drawn.

Witnessing this, betrayed Hosen felt a surge of irony. Mere ants, gathering again and again to defy him—how foolish.

"You lucky survivors, why don’t you understand... No matter how many you bring, it changes nothing."

"Why don’t you just die? Why oppose me? Why..." Hosen looked at Gintoki and Takeko, their gazes cold and burning with resolve. No matter how many times they were knocked down, their eyes never changed.

"Why do you have... that look in your eyes? It infuriates me..."

"I’m furious! Don’t look at me with those eyes anymore!" Hosen roared, wrenching his umbrella from the floor.

"Go, Haruta!" Gintoki yelled.

"Haruta, get out of here!" Takeko shouted.

They called out together.

"Gin-san! Big Sister Okakura! Sister Tsukuyo!" Haruta cried.

And below, the battle erupted once more—a revolving assault as everyone lunged at Hosen, launching a coordinated attack.

Takeko and Gintoki attacked together in perfect harmony, overwhelming Hosen with their combined force.

It was always like this... As long as that curly-haired man stood here, everyone would feel secure, unafraid of any challenge. Just like in the final battle of the Joi War.

As long as he stood—so long as Gintoki Sakata lived—everyone gained the courage to charge forward once more!

This was the White Demon! This was Gintoki Sakata!

Takeko smiled. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like dying at all...

She wanted to live—to live, watching that silver light shine.

Author’s note: Darlings, tomorrow is Kuangtuzi’s birthday, so I’m taking the day off. Updates will resume the day after tomorrow. Love you all, mwah!