Chapter 73: Encounter with the Wandering Old Man Once More

"What is the Dream Practice Room?" Aoki Shi calmly carried the groceries he'd just bought, wearing his newly purchased hat and mask as he began his journey home. Perhaps because winter was approaching, the sky seemed to darken earlier than usual today.

[It allows you to practice skills that have reached LV4 in your dreams. The time ratio to reality is about 1:2. In other words, if you sleep for eight hours, you can spend four hours honing your skills in the Dream Practice Room. Since it's all within a dream, it won't train your body—it's strictly for learning and upgrading skills. Of course, you won't feel physically tired in the Dream Practice Room, and any injuries sustained won't affect you in the real world.]

[However, mental fatigue is just as real and won't be diminished. I recommend adjusting your training and rest times yourself to avoid exhausting yourself. If you notice any discomfort, be sure to take care of your mental well-being.]

Aoki Shi paused, astonished. This was remarkable. Not only did it mean he could effectively gain an extra four hours each day compared to others, but he wouldn’t even feel the physical exhaustion—say, practicing swordsmanship non-stop for four hours in a dream would surpass three or four days of focused real-world training. After all, in reality, there were limits to stamina.

He wondered what it would look like inside.

"Hey, you stink and you're blocking the way. Do you want to die?"

From a nearby alley, the sounds of punching, kicking, and adolescent jeering suddenly erupted.

Aoki Shi frowned slightly, stopped, and turned to look. Around the corner, a group of delinquent boys in school uniforms, probably middle schoolers, were surrounding a homeless man, abusing him both physically and verbally.

"Hey!" Aoki Shi shouted furiously.

The boys turned, spotted him, and froze for a moment—fear flickered across their faces, though their voices remained cocky. "Wh-what do you want?"

"What do I want?" Aoki Shi was already in a foul mood, and seeing these boys feigning bravado only fueled his anger. "Are you all courting death?"

The lead boy swallowed hard, clearly terrified, but still tried to sound tough: "What does it matter to you if we beat up this bum?"

Aoki Shi sneered, placing his bag of groceries at the alley entrance and flexing his wrists as he strode toward them. "Using the weakest expressions for the boldest words—you’re quite entertaining."

"My… My brother goes to Wuyang High too! If you hit me, he won’t let you off!" The boy stammered, glancing at his companions who looked ready to bolt, trembling with fear.

Aoki Shi’s face was cold. "Did your brother never tell you not to mess with me?"

"Don’t get cocky!" the boy shouted, snatching a stone from the corner. "We’re not afraid of high schoolers!"

"Show me," Aoki Shi said, his lips curling into a scornful smile.

The boy took a few quick breaths, glanced at his friends, saw their frightened faces, gritted his teeth, and yelled, "You’re dead!"

With that, he charged at Aoki Shi, stone raised.

He flew back even faster.

Clutching his stomach, the boy lay on the ground, wailing in pain. When he lifted his head, his companions were long gone. He stared at Aoki Shi in terror, voice trembling. "I—I—I’m sorry! I was wrong!"

Aoki Shi had held back, considering the boy’s young age, but it was enough to teach him a lesson.

"I don’t care why you were beating up this homeless man, but remember this," Aoki Shi said, looking at the pitiful, battered child and not wanting to pursue the matter further, but threatening him: "If you really want to fight, come find me. If I ever see you bullying these unfortunate people again—anyone at all—if I see it, you can expect me to cut off your pinky finger. Understand?"

It was a warning he’d learned from Maeda Tora, and it worked perfectly—the boy was so scared he nearly wet himself, nodding frantically. "I—I understand! Sorry, big brother!"

"Get lost, and stop pretending to be a delinquent," Aoki Shi said with a glance. The boy staggered away, clutching his stomach and leaning on the wall, pausing at the corner to look back at Aoki Shi, as if trying to memorize his face. But as soon as their eyes met, his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees, scrambling away in terror.

Perhaps he should watch that drama and learn how underworld bosses handle things—if scaring people could settle matters, how convenient that would be! With such a fierce face, it would be a shame not to learn how to intimidate others.

Aoki Shi turned to see the homeless man, previously beaten, huddled against the wall, coughing and curled up like a shrimp. Aoki Shi sighed.

"Uncle, it's alright now—they’ve gone."

The homeless man cautiously opened his eyes and met Aoki Shi’s gaze, stunned.

Aoki Shi also felt he looked familiar. Thinking carefully, he realized it was the old homeless man he’d once given over a thousand yen to buy triangle rice balls.

This time, the man wore a filthy hat hiding his gray hair, his face darkened by grime and barely recognizable.

"It’s you again," Aoki Shi smiled gently.

He reached out, helping the old man sit up. Amid the man’s timid, evasive gaze, Aoki Shi casually brushed the dirt from his back. "Those rotten kids may be young, but their hearts are cruel. Young people these days are hard to understand."

"Th-thank you," the old man said, sitting against the wall and removing his hat. Silver hair clung messily to his face as he coughed into his hand.

Aoki Shi squatted beside him, smiling. "No need to thank me. How’s your health? Did they hurt you?"

The old man sighed and shook his head. "I’m fine… really."

Seeing his pale, emaciated appearance, Aoki Shi’s heart softened. "Have you had dinner tonight?"

"N-not yet," the old man admitted, head bowed and voice trembling.

Aoki Shi brushed the dust off his shoulder and smiled. "Wait here, I’ll go buy you something to eat."

"No, that’s not necessary!" The old man anxiously grabbed Aoki Shi’s sleeve, then quickly released it, afraid his dirty hands might stain the fabric. "I have food, it’s alright."

Aoki Shi just smiled. "It’s fine—I’ll get you some bread. You can have it for breakfast tomorrow."

Before the old man could refuse, Aoki Shi jogged away.

The old man remained, his eyes full of gratitude and his expression conflicted, thinking deeply as if making an important decision. At last, he sighed and made up his mind.

Aoki Shi soon returned, handing the old man a bag with bread and bottled water. "Well, perhaps we’ll meet again. I pass through here most days on my way home. If you need help, you can wait here around four in the afternoon—I’ll lend a hand if I can."

He wasn’t trying to be some saint, just figured that since he didn’t worry about food or drink these days, he could help where possible without much trouble.

Watching Aoki Shi prepare to leave, the old man suddenly spoke. "Excuse me… young man, could you come with me for a bit? I have something I’d like to ask you for help with. Would that be alright?"

Aoki Shi hesitated, checked the time on his phone, and since he’d spent less time in the kendo club today, he had about an hour to spare. He agreed readily: "Alright, where to?"

The old man struggled to his feet, limping through the alley. "Follow me…"

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PS: I recommend a book by a master, 'Dimensional Doorways.' It’s quite interesting, and everyone should add it to their favorites and check it out—BIUBIUBIU~~~~

Ahem, I’ll leave the recommendations to myself, QAQ! Love you all!