The underworld of Edo is a labyrinth of madness.

  In my era, constructing a subterranean fortress required years of labor, thousands of men, and the utmost secrecy. Even Takeda Shingen utilized gold miners to tunnel beneath enemy walls, yet even the Tiger of Kai could not have conceived of this subterranean monstrosity that Aoi called "Shinjuku Station."

  "Don't wander off, Masa," Aoi commanded, her eyes scanning a glowing oracle slate held above. "If you get lost here, you die. I mean it. I am absolutely not spending another three hours looking for you at the East Exit."

  "Understood, Aoi-dono."

  I adjusted the collar of my "suit"—the black armor of the modern age—and tightened the "necktie" strangling my throat to keep my center of gravity low. My feet were encased in cramped leather boots provided for this mission, but they would not hinder a shinobi's stride.

  "A shinobi does not wander blindly into a labyrinth. I have already committed the scent of this subterranean passage to memory. It smells of burnt sugar, despair, and damp concrete."

  Aoi sighed, shifting her canvas tote bag over her shoulder.

  "It smells like a crepe stand and the Yamanote line. Let's go. The limited-time sale on pork belly at the underground grocer ends in twenty minutes. Stop saying that with a straight face while wearing a weekend salaryman look. Hurry up."

  I nodded, falling into step half a pace behind her and to her left—the traditional vanguard position. The mission was clear. Procurement of vital rations. A siege could last for months; a lord without salt and meat was a lord defeated. We navigated through the rivers of dead-eyed foot soldiers, their faces buried in their glowing slates, completely unaware of their surroundings. An assassin could easily harvest a hundred heads here before anyone raised the alarm. It was a terrifying testament to the complacency of this era.

  And then, we stopped.

  Before us lay a downward slope, leading even deeper into the earth. But this was no ordinary staircase.

  I froze, dropping into a defensive crouch. My hand instinctively reached for a blade that was no longer at my hip, finding only the empty hidden pocket of my jacket.

  "Masa, what are you doing? Stand up, you're blocking traffic."

  "Aoi-dono! Stand back!" I hissed, my eyes tracing the horrifying mechanics of the trap before us. "Do you not see it?! The stairs... they are moving!"

  A waterfall of grooved steel tumbled endlessly downward into the abyss. It was a mechanical beast, segmented like a great iron centipede, grinding and groaning with a low, rhythmic hum that vibrated through the very soles of my feet. At the top and bottom, the steel steps vanished into the floor, sucked beneath sharp, comb-like metal teeth.

  It was an automated slaughterhouse.

  "It's an escalator," Aoi said, completely deadpan. "Is this your first time seeing one?"

  "Wh... what kind of sorcery allows stairs to move on their own!?" I shuddered, growling in a low voice. "This thing seeks to drag its sacrifices down, into the darkness. Look at the civilians, Aoi-dono! They step onto the moving mountain like sheep to the slaughter, offering themselves to the jaws of the earth!"

  "They are just heading to the Marunouchi Line. Come on, get on."

  "I will absolutely not surrender my footing to a machine!" I declared. "To lose control of one's stance is the first step to death! What if this mountain abruptly accelerates?! What if the steel plates snap open to drop us into a pit of spikes?!"

  "It’s an escalator! It literally just goes down!" Aoi groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I don’t have time for this. The pork belly, Masa! It’s half-price!"

  Aoi stepped onto the moving steel. The beast took her without a fight, carrying her smoothly downward. She turned back, glaring up at me from three steps below. "Get. On."

  I swallowed hard. Is this the dark magic of the modern age? But my Lord required sustenance. A shinobi must face even unknown terrors.

  I approached the threshold. The steel plates shifted, rising and falling in an unnatural rhythm. I observed the pattern. The edge of each step was painted with a vibrant, demonic yellow—warding runes, warning the unwary of the lethal edge. I breathed in, focusing my ki. To conquer an unstable terrain, one must abandon the modern, unbalanced stride.

  I adopted the Namba-aruki stance.

  By moving my right arm and right leg simultaneously, and maintaining my torso completely rigid, I eliminated the rotational twist of the body. It was the walk of the Sengoku warrior, designed for muddy battlefields and treacherous mountain passes.

  With a sharp exhale, I thrust my right leather shoe onto the moving steel, instantly matching its downward velocity, locking my knee and hip into a flawless structural pillar.

  Clack.

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  My left leather shoe slammed down beside it. I stood perfectly, horrifyingly rigid.

  "You look like a corpse undergoing rigor mortis in a suit," Aoi muttered from below.

  "I am stabilizing my center of gravity," I replied through gritted teeth. The vibration of the mechanical beast traveled up my shins through my slacks. It was trying to throw me off balance. I reached out and clamped my right hand onto the black, rubberized barrier that moved alongside the stairs.

  "Masa, stand on the left side," Aoi instructed, pointing to the empty space beside her. "You leave the right side open for people walking. It’s Tokyo rules. And let go of the handrail, you're gripping it too hard."

  "I cannot, Aoi-dono! What if the enemy triggers a 'Sudden Stop Trap' at any moment?! Those foolish foot soldiers standing unbraced will be hurled into the abyss!"

  I tightened my grip. My fingers, hardened by decades of Koppojutsu—the bone-breaking arts—dug deeply into the thick black rubber. The barrier let out a squeaking scream of friction. To think the enemy had laced the city's depths with such an atrocious trap.

  A foot soldier carrying a briefcase hurried down the right side of the moving stairs. He approached me from behind, mumbling, "Excuse me," trying to pass.

  "A flanking maneuver!" I barked.

  I shifted my weight, utilizing the broad shoulders of my suit to widen my stance and block the narrow pass. I locked eyes with the man, projecting an aura of pure, murderous intent.

  "Turn back, foot soldier! This pass is closed! Do you wish to lose your life to an enemy trap?! As long as I stand guard, this unknown beast shall claim no more souls!"

  The foot soldier halted, his eyes wide with terror behind his square glasses. He clutched his briefcase to his chest and immediately took three steps backward, pressing his back against the side wall.

  "Masa! Let him pass!" Aoi shrieked, swatting at my knee with her canvas bag. "Stop acting like a troll under a bridge!"

  "I am protecting him from his own ignorance!" I countered.

  But that distraction was fatal. Having focused too much awareness on the civilian behind me, I had neglected to monitor the shifting terrain beneath my feet.

  "Masa, the bottom!" Aoi yelled.

  I snapped my gaze forward. We had reached the floor of the subterranean chamber. But the beast did not stop. The steel stairs flattened out, driving relentlessly toward a row of interlocked metal teeth—the comb plate. The maw of the machine.

  I watched in horror as a discarded paper receipt, caught on the step ahead of Aoi, was ruthlessly sucked into the fangs, vanishing into the internal grinding gears without a trace.

  It intends to consume everything.

  If my leather shoes touched those fangs, the beast would drag me under. It would flay the flesh from my toes and grind my bones to dust.

  "Aoi-dono! Flee!" I roared.

  "Just step off normally!" she shouted, stepping over the comb plate with the casual grace of a master assassin.

  But I was out of time. The fangs were inches away. A normal step would risk catching the hem of my slacks or the tip of this cramped leather shoe. To survive, I had to abandon the earth entirely.

  I channeled my ki into my calves, invoking the highest echelon of evasion.

  Hicho-jutsu: The Leaping Bird.

  With an explosive shout, I compressed my legs and launched myself straight up into the air. I vaulted entirely over the comb plate, the landing zone, and the bewildered Aoi. I cleared three full tatami mats of distance in a single, soaring arc.

  At the apex of my flight, I tucked into a tight roll to minimize my silhouette as a target, preparing for a hostile landing.

  I hit the polished tile floor of the concourse with a heavy thud, instantly executing a Zenpo-ukemi (forward breakfall) to absorb the impact. I tumbled forward, coming to a halt in a perfect three-point crouch, my eyes scanning for secondary traps.

  Silence descended upon the immediate vicinity.

  A woman wearing the uniform of a crepe shop, radiating a sweet scent, stared at me with her mouth hanging wide open. The foot soldier who had finally reached the bottom of the moving stairs stood completely still, blinking rapidly.

  I slowly stood up, dusting off my suit. My necktie was disheveled, so I quickly adjusted it. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my breathing remained controlled. I looked back at the mechanical beast. It continued its relentless churning, but I had repelled this newly encountered moving mountain for now.

  "I have bested the moving mountain," I announced, adjusting the cuffs of my suit. "Today, there are no fangs capable of claiming Hanzo's life. Enemies, do not underestimate my core strength."

  From the crowd, a hand shot out and clamped viciously onto my right ear.

  "Gah!" I yelped, my perfectly balanced stance crumbling instantly.

  "You absolute idiot!" Aoi hissed, her face burning crimson as she dragged me away from the stunned onlookers. "In the middle of Shinjuku! What grown man in a suit jumps six feet in the air over an escalator?!"

  "Aoi-dono, the fanged plate—!"

  "It's designed so you don't get caught! That's why the grooves fit together! Now bow your head and walk before security comes over here and I have to pretend I don't know you!"

  "Ow, ow, ow! Aoi-dono, your grip... it rivals the pincers of a crab! Truly, your finger strength has improved!"

  She did not release me until we reached the underground grocer. The pork belly was secured, but my pride was deeply wounded. I had survived the trap of the moving stairs, yet the true terror of this era was not the unknown machines that writhed beneath the earth. It was the terrifying, unyielding strength of a broke college student chasing a discount.

  As we walked back—choosing the normal, stationary stairs by my steadfast request—I noted the location of the beast in my mental map. Someday, I would return. And I would figure out how to destroy its gears.

  Masanari’s Cultural Notes (Glossary):

  ? Namba-aruki: The traditional walking method of the Sengoku era. By moving the right arm and right leg forward simultaneously, the warrior prevents the torso from twisting. This conserves energy, maintains constant balance on uneven terrain, and ensures the hand is always steady to draw a blade. Modern humans swing their arms opposite to their legs, completely exposing their center line. Fools.

  ? Hicho-jutsu (The Leaping Bird): A foundational movement in Ninjutsu. It is not merely a high jump, but the art of explosive vertical and horizontal movement from a static position, often used to clear enemy spear walls or, in this case, to evade the metal fangs of an unknown subterranean labyrinth. Calculating the weight of the armor (suit) is also essential.

  ? Zenpo-ukemi (Forward Breakfall): The art of kissing the earth without injury. By rolling over the shoulder and slapping the ground, the kinetic energy of a fall is dispersed safely. Essential for surviving a dismount from a moving mountain.

  59 Days Remaining.

  Next Episode Preview:

  Episode 42: The Steel Chewing Beast and the Offering to the Void!

  Masanari: "I have returned to the stronghold with a stack of critical enemy documents! Aoi-dono commands me to feed them to the 'Shredder'—a terrifying execution device that consumes paper and spits out noodles of despair! I must engage in a battle of grip strength against its mechanical jaws!"

  Aoi: "It's just a cross-cut shredder, Masa. Stop screaming and don't pull the paper while it's shredding, you'll break the motor."

  Next Time: Masanari refuses to let the machine claim victory without a fight!

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