Chapter 107 - 66: This Investment Was Very Worthwhile

Chapter 107: Chapter 66: This Investment Was Very WorthwhileThe spring weather in Japan’s central provinces is actually quite nice—no wind, and the air is crisp and fresh. Harano took a few deep breaths of the fresh air, clearing the thick scent of blood from his nose, then glanced at the dejected Maeda Toshie and consoled him: "Victory and defeat are common in the art of war; no need to take it too hard." "Sigh!" Maeda Toshie let out a sigh, apparently finding it hard to shake the psychological shadow, but he quickly pulled himself together and said, full of gratitude, "I really owe you this time. If it hadn’t been for you taking down Toriyama Chouhei, we couldn’t have gotten away so smoothly. At the time I was ready... I was ready to..." At that moment, he was prepared to turn back and fight to the death, entangle Toriyama Chouhei and buy Oda Nobunaga a chance to escape—chances were, there’d be no survival for him. So in that sense, Harano had saved his life too, and he owed him thanks no matter what. "Think nothing of it. You’d have done the same in my place." Harano didn’t take the credit, responding politely, and then asked curiously, "Toriyama Chouhei? What’s his story?" "A rising star among the Matsudaira family’s new generation, a master archer with superb martial skills—people call him the ’Red Demon Archer of Sanhe’." Maeda Toshie knew the man well; after all, the Matsudaira clan had come knocking several times each year recently, and more than once it was Toriyama Chouhei leading them. "His father is the Matsudaira family’s general magistrate, also quite a formidable figure—said to have strategies aplenty, and deep knowledge of Sinology." Harano nodded slightly. The Red Demon Archer of Sanhe, huh? What kind of ridiculous nicknames were these! He had absolutely no impression of this man—there shouldn’t be such a character in Taiko 2—likely just an unlucky, short-lived guy in real history. Shooting him dead wouldn’t make much of a ripple, probably wouldn’t trigger any butterfly effect at all. He didn’t give the guy any more thought, and instead asked Maeda Toshie: "Was our side’s casualty count bad? Has everyone been rounded up?" He had over a hundred lightly wounded men under him; as for the dead, the captured, and those lost, well, he wasn’t quite sure. Maeda Toshie sighed, "Counting your side, only a bit over three hundred people have made it back. We’ll try again tomorrow—maybe find a few dozen more, at best!" Among Oda Nobunaga’s assets, his six-hundred-strong direct-follower Lang Faction was key. In a single battle, over a third were wiped out—an enormous blow to their strength. Harano sighed along with him, then asked, "And your group? You attendants..." "Lost more than ten, with five still missing... so about..." Maeda Toshie sighed again. These were colleagues he saw day and night. After charging forward with Oda Nobunaga and fighting to cover his retreat, nearly twenty attendants were gone, just like that. No denying it now: serving as a household retainer in wartime really was one hell of a high-risk profession! This time, Harano’s sigh was genuine. In war, people died as easily as crushed ants—meaningless deaths. Just this afternoon, two or three hundred lives lost. His own nerves felt pretty shaky—who could say if some day he’d be the unlucky one? In novels, ten or twenty thousand casualties are tossed off like nothing. But in reality, never mind two or three hundred, even a few corpses right in front of you would be enough to leave your legs rubbery. Just feeling unsettled inside was already a pretty mild reaction. After sighing, he asked, "With casualties this heavy, why hasn’t the Lord of Upper General—uh, His Lordship—returned to Nagano Castle yet?" "No idea. No one dares ask, either," Maeda Toshie shook his head. "Most likely, he wants to keep the Matsudaira family tied down a while longer, in case they come after the East Tsube Stronghold again." Harano nodded, thinking that sounded about right, but as for the real reason, probably only Oda Nobunaga knew for sure. ...... The two chatted as they walked and soon arrived at Oda Nobunaga’s tent. This time, they didn’t need to announce themselves—the squire guarding the door let Harano in right away, even giving him a nod and a friendly smile, probably to thank him for his earlier "sword-out rescue." Looked at this way, that investment really paid off. In one go, he’d saved Oda Nobunaga’s direct attendants and guards. From now on, as long as these people wanted to save face at all, they’d have to treat him with at least a bit of courtesy, which would make getting things done a lot easier for him. He hadn’t thought of this perk before—an unexpected bonus; not bad, not bad! Feeling a bit smug, he stepped into the tent. While guards were strict outside, there weren’t many people inside, but the interior was quite luxurious. The floor was covered with a thick Southern Barbarian carpet, two gilded standing candelabras sat in the corners, jammed with bright lacquered candles, and hand-painted screens, carved sword racks, and lacquered tables were all present—probably not any different from living at home. Oda Nobunaga himself was sitting at the very back of the tent, hair still slightly damp—as if he’d just had a bath—and now lounged sideways by the table, drinking alone. When he saw Harano come in, he jerked his chin at a seat beside him: "Sit!" Then he ordered Ikegami Keisuke at his side, "Pour him some sake!" Harano sat, but quickly waved his hand: "Thank you, but there’s no need. I don’t drink." S~eaʀᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Hm?" Oda Nobunaga’s thick brows shot up, his expression a bit sour, maybe even grim, clearly suspecting Harano was here to look down on a "defeated general." Meanwhile, Ikegami Keisuke had already fetched the sake, but as he faced away, he gave Harano a pleading look—Oda Nobunaga was in foul spirits already, and he didn’t want him any more upset. Harano didn’t care. He’d been burned by alcohol before, almost ruined his whole life—he’d vowed never to touch the stuff again, and this was a matter of principle. He absolutely wasn’t budging on drinking, so he just gave Ikegami Keisuke a gentle smile and stuck to his guns: "Really, there’s no need. I don’t drink, I never do." Ikegami Keisuke was at a loss, and Oda Nobunaga’s face darkened further. From childhood, hardly anyone had ever dared refuse him, and now, in his foul mood, he looked like he was about to hurl the sake cup and curse Harano out. But suddenly, he remembered Harano wasn’t just some recruit to scold as he pleased—if he threw the cup at Harano, the guy was likely to just pack up and leave, maybe even switch allegiances altogether. As for harshly punishing him—or simply chopping him down... For a trivial matter like this, to execute today’s greatest hero and savior would be too inhumane—even he hadn’t lost his mind to that extent. Honestly, he couldn’t even pull it off if he wanted to. With his reputation at stake, his own attendants would probably hold on to Harano for dear life, just to make sure he could get away in one piece. He fumed for a second, then slammed his sake cup back on the table and snapped at Ikegami Keisuke: "What are you standing there for? Didn’t you hear him say he doesn’t drink? Get him some tea already!" Ikegami Keisuke snapped to attention, hurriedly brought over a cup of hot tea, and Harano accepted it with both hands, giving him an apologetic smile—a silent sorry for getting him scolded. Ikegami Keisuke seemed to have a good nature and responded with a smile, nodding that it was nothing, then slipped back to Oda Nobunaga’s side to kneel—and quietly slipped Nobunaga’s sake cup into his robe for safekeeping. That little gesture made Harano wonder if there was some "spark" going on here. After all, in ancient Japan, "cut sleeve" and "sharing the peach" were not uncommon. The squires followed the lord everywhere, sometimes even sharing a bed—it wouldn’t be too crazy to imagine some, well, alternate forms of affection. But none of that was his concern; it’s not like he’d have to sleep with Oda Nobunaga. He let his mind wander while sipping tea, then asked Nobunaga seriously: "Does Your Lordship summon me for anything in particular?" Oda Nobunaga had actually called him over for a drink as thanks—at this point in history, inviting someone to drink really was the way to show gratitude. He’d even waited until Harano had finished tending the wounded before extending the invitation. Yet, here was this oddball, completely refusing to touch a drop. Not a shred of samurai spirit about him. Nobunaga was momentarily lost for words, groped for his cup, then shot an annoyed look at Ikegami Keisuke, but said nothing. Instead, he reached inside his robe and flung an envelope at Harano, barking, "Here’s your promised reward." The envelope whizzed over like a dart, nearly skewering Harano in the head—looked like it carried a lot of pent-up frustration. Harano quickly caught it, opened it up, shook out a thick piece of paper, and looked closer—colorful designs and seals all over it, with the characters "Official Money, One Hundred Kan—Redeemable on Presentation" written in bold black ink in the center. Well, that was something new. Turns out, Japan already had paper currency in this era? He’d never heard of that before. Was this some kind of knockoff of the Northern Song Dynasty’s "Jiaozi" from China? He turned the "banknote" over curiously, then asked, "What’s this?" Oda Nobunaga replied impatiently, "It’s your promised reward. You treated eighty-four people—with three ’hiki’ a head, that’s twenty-nine kan for you. The extra is just a bonus—keep it." Eighty-four people should be just twenty-five kan and two hiki... Wait, no, if we’re talking the city’s rate, that really is about twenty-nine kan. Look at you, rich kid who can still do math! Harano did the math silently, then realized—he wasn’t asking about the treatment fee. He pointed to the heavy paper, "Your Lordship misunderstood, I meant—what is this paper?" Oda Nobunaga gave him a puzzling look but answered patiently, "It’s a ’Certificate of Exchange.’ You can take it to any temple in Owari Province and trade it for the equivalent in coin or rice, or directly receive temple goods. It’s convenient." Got it. Another brainchild of Japanese monks—they really dabbled in finance, making paper notes or cash checks? That was good news. Now, just how tight was the oversight here? If it was lax, maybe he could print some banknotes and start paying salaries himself... With this in mind, Harano pocketed the "Certificate of Exchange." If Oda Nobunaga was happy to overpay, there was no reason to refuse. He just said politely, "Rest assured, Your Lordship, I’ll do everything I can to help the wounded recover." After a pause, he added, "Does Your Lordship require anything else?" Oda Nobunaga stared at him, face still dark, clearly swallowing his frustration. "No." "Then I’ll take my leave." Harano didn’t see much left to discuss. Nobunaga might have lost the battle but always had people lining up to sympathize—no need for him to fuss. With a courteous bow, he headed for the tent’s exit. Just as he reached the flap, Nobunaga’s voice came from behind—hesitant, not too loud: "Um, about today... thanks... really, I appreciate your effort." For Harano helping him escape today, Nobunaga actually hadn’t taken it to heart—after all, he was used to people scrambling to rescue him. What really mattered was that Harano had, of all things, managed to shoot dead Matsudaira’s famed general, Toriyama Chouhei. So even with heavy losses, that gave him some face—a fig leaf to take home and make the defeat easier to swallow. That’s why Nobunaga made a special point of inviting Harano to this feast, wanting to drink with his top hero of the day and, like the generals of old, duly lavish him with rewards—even if he hadn’t brought back the enemy general’s head. Yet, Harano had refused the sake and hadn’t even tried to claim credit, leaving Nobunaga a bit at a loss, so all he could do was half-mumble some thanks. If only Harano were one of his household retainers, it’d be easy—just send a formal commendation—but alas, he wasn’t! Nobunaga was left tangled up in mixed feelings, but Harano didn’t mind, just offered another polite farewell before leaving for real. As long as Nobunaga remembered he owed him, Harano considered the risk worth it and was already pondering what kind of favor to cash in later—a tax exemption, maybe? Or keep it for a life-saving comeback? Or maybe wait and swap it for the right to develop some wild land and build a castle? He thought it over for a while but couldn’t settle on a plan—so decided to save the favor for a crucial moment down the road, and went straight off to check on the wounded. With Nobunaga footing the bill for these guys, of course he had to heal as many as possible. Once they all recovered, he could head back to Takeshige Manor and keep building up his own turf. Yeah, that’s it—should be no problem!