Chapter 38: I Am Not Completely Useless—At Least I’m Handsome

A deep shock mingled with bitterness and memory flickered across Genshiro's face. Every time he encountered Tang Shen, he felt as if he was rediscovering the man anew. Clearly, Tang Shen was pathetically weak—he could crush him with one hand, without even needing to squeeze twice—yet each time, Tang Shen’s astonishing words managed to shake him to his core.

Well, sometimes, they made him so furious he wanted to draw his great sword and cut him down on the spot.

But today’s shock was especially profound. The simple movement at dawn concealed a special mystery unknown to others. He still hadn’t figured it out, but it was undoubtedly far more complicated than it appeared. And now, Tang Shen’s incredible words yet again.

A true strongman possessed not only formidable strength, but also an indomitable spirit.

A dreamer! A clown of life!

What a fitting description!

Only those with experience could truly understand the words Tang Shen spoke, and the meaning behind them.

Only then could one deeply appreciate the insights into life hidden within.

The moment the words left Tang Shen’s lips, they felt like an arrow piercing straight into his heart. In the early days of learning the sword, he had made some progress, honed himself in the world, and emerged battered and scarred.

But at that final step, he had stopped moving forward. Perhaps it was fear, or perhaps some other complex reason, that led him to hide himself in this mountain village.

From a young dreamer, he had become little more than a clown in daily life.

He felt the weight of these words most deeply now. His whole life flashed before his eyes like fleeting shadows, leaving only his battered body and the unyielding spirit reflected in his eyes behind those glasses.

Now, behind those lenses, his gaze brimmed with surprise and curiosity.

Just who was this Chosen One? Where did he come from? Who was he in the world beyond?

What kind of person could possess insights like these? Perhaps, he thought, Tang Shen was an unrivaled powerhouse in his own right.

He would never have guessed that, in reality, Tang Shen was a struggling, impoverished high school student yet to graduate.

Yes, aside from being handsome, he was practically useless. Handsome, and nothing more.

Of course, even if Tang Shen was a powerhouse elsewhere, right now he was just a weakling—especially when he called all his students "the weak." Genshiro couldn't help feeling dissatisfied; after all, they were all students of his own dojo.

Even if the words were true, they still sounded wrong and unpleasant.

And the worst part was, Tang Shen had let him hear it, which made him all the more annoyed!

So maybe they were a little untalented, a bit lacking in strength, and not as handsome as Tang Shen, but that still didn’t justify putting them down!

Among them were a few with resilient spirits—who knew, maybe they’d achieve something one day.

Maybe.

Just then, a figure in the distance came sprinting over, recognizable by what looked like a "forgiveness" hat atop his head.

Genshiro noticed at once and put on a smiling face. “Good morning, Zoro! Hurry up and start your morning training—you’re late.”

At least he had recently taken on a promising disciple. Zoro exuded a beast-like aura and possessed a natural talent for swordsmanship that set him leagues above the others.

Bah! Ordinary students, not weaklings.

“Yes, Sensei!” Roronoa Zoro snapped to attention, instantly sobering up.

He dashed off, muttering under his breath, “Damn, that smile is terrifying. Just like everyone says—so two-faced. Always smiling, but when he looks at you, it sends chills down your spine.”

As Zoro ran off, Genshiro’s cheerful smile froze on his face.

Sometimes, being too strong wasn’t a good thing. Even from a distance, he could clearly hear the muttered grumblings behind his back.

Especially when those grumblings were aimed at him. The awkwardness was…unimaginable.

So infuriating!

He was clearly the picture of kindness and elegance, yet they called him two-faced.

The students described him this way behind his back, and even the newcomers were picking up on it. It seemed it was time to teach them a lesson.

Genshiro straightened his thoughts: “Training’s been too easy lately. If they still have the energy to gossip, they’re not working hard enough on their swordsmanship. No wonder they’re still weak. As the head of the dojo, I must correct their way of thinking and guide them onto the right path.”

Having made up his mind, he resumed his smiling expression and walked toward the coach in charge of the morning run.

“Double all training today—including the morning exercise! Normally, it’s two laps; today, it’s four. Anyone who fails the task will have to double it again. No food until it’s done.”

Soon, all the students at Isshin Dojo received this thunderbolt of an announcement. The coach even emphasized that this was a direct order from the master.

That meant it was unchangeable, non-negotiable, and would be carried out to the letter.

In the dojo, the master’s word was law. The disciples had to obey strictly, and so the person they feared most was, unsurprisingly, the master—the strongest in the dojo.

From afar, the students shot a glance at the figure standing before the Isshin Dojo gates. A chill ran down their spines—each hurriedly bowed their heads and took off at a run.

They knew today would be exhausting, but they had to complete the challenge. If they failed, they wouldn’t even get to eat, and would have to train even more.

Immediately, everyone pushed themselves harder, sprinting as fast as they could.

No one dared ask why. None of them had the courage to approach Genshiro—just a glance from afar was enough to give them the chills. Getting close would probably freeze them to death!

The coach was amazed. It had been a long time since he’d seen the students so motivated.

“Master, why the sudden increase in training?” the swordsmanship coach asked curiously, walking up to Genshiro. “But I must say, the results are impressive. The students’ enthusiasm shot up immediately.”

“They’ve been slacking off. From now on, I’ll keep increasing the intensity. Otherwise, how will their strength improve? My students can’t go out into the world as useless weaklings,” Genshiro replied with a smile, glancing at the coach before heading inside the dojo.

A chill ran down the coach’s spine. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of white light across the master’s glasses. The same expression as always, yet it made his hair stand on end. Something was different today.

Who had angered the master?

He seemed even more terrifying than usual!

“Thank you for your guidance, Master. The students have indeed been a bit lax lately!” the coach replied hurriedly. No matter what, the master was always right.

Genshiro paused mid-step. Did he just call his students weaklings? No, absolutely not, it must be his imagination. He was so gentle and refined—how could he ever describe his students that way…

Among the morning trainees, a slender figure with a green-tinted cap was running desperately, trying to keep up with the fittest at the front. He heard the coach’s words and felt confused.

Double the training? Whatever!

In his mind, there could never be too much training. Only by pushing himself to the absolute limit could he grow stronger.

He had no idea that all of this was set in motion by his own muttered complaint. Even if he knew, he probably wouldn’t care.

But if the other students found out, they would probably gang up on him and teach him a lesson he’d never forget.