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MillionNovel > Jingozi [An Isekai LitRPG] > Chapter 16: PERSPECTIVE

Chapter 16: PERSPECTIVE

    Chapter 16: PERSPECTIVE


    <hr>


    “Bring her,” the captain commanded.


    Flanked by Samurai, I was led through the streets, the crowd parting before us. They brought me to a nearby magistrate’s office with a holding cell. The walls were thick stone, with only a tiny, barred window above for a sliver of light. They scoured me for weapons or possessions but found nothing.


    The door shut behind me with a loud screech, and I was left alone with my thoughts. How could I have let myself get distracted by someone like Jon Deerfoot? I''d let my guard lapse. Knowing I’d let Hiro down, I felt… ashamed. I pulled out Hiro’s origami flower, the delicate folds preserved in my inventory.


    I can fix this, Hiro. I promise.


    * * *


    Day [21/40]


    More guards arrived to escort me to the Shogun’s court at dawn. They bound me in chains, and we once again made our way through the streets of Raishoto, eventually reaching the Shogun’s palace.


    The court was magnificent. Golden lanterns illuminated the room with bright, warm light, highlighting its grandeur. The floor was a polished stone mosaic, adding to the royal atmosphere. The Shogun sat at the far end of the hall, raised on a dais.


    Name: Tokugawa Masamune [Arch Dealer]


    Tier: 7 [Obsidian] Rank ???


    Faction: Samurai [Shogun] Leader


    Clad in deep crimson and gold robes draped over his armor, the Shogun was the picture of strength and authority. His jet-black hair was styled in the traditional chonmage, the topknot tied high and tight, while the sides of his head were clean-shaven. A meticulously groomed beard framed his face, and his piercing eyes gazed through me as if weighing my soul.


    “Ember, you stand accused of the murder of Ryuunosuke, a crime punishable by death,” a sweaty obese herald declared. “What say you in your defense?”


    I took in the Shogun''s court. On one side, a group of high-ranking Samurai, including the Samurai Captain, sat on raised platforms in full armor. To the other side, a row of elderly advisors in plain robes and beads whispered among themselves. Spread through the room, nobles in embroidered kimonos watched the proceedings. And at the center of it all was the Shogun himself.


    “I didn’t kill Ryuunosuke,” I said. “He gave me a mission to deliver a scroll to you.”


    “You will address him as Lord Shogun,” the herald snarked.


    “Whatever, do you want the scroll or not?”


    The court murmured, but the Shogun raised a hand for silence.


    “Bring forth this scroll.”


    A Samurai stepped in front of him and bowed.


    “She had no possessions, Lord.”


    “What is the meaning of this girl?” the Shogun asked. “You dare mock us?”


    I held up my hands, still restrained by the shackles, and called the scroll from my inventory. It appeared from thin air, making the court gasp. The Shogun didn’t react.


    “Leave us,” he said without breaking his gaze.


    * * *


    The Shogun’s eyes bore into me as he took the scroll from my hands. He unrolled it and scanned the contents.


    “Do you know what this is?” he asked.


    “No. I only know it was important to you, Ryuunosuke, and Yukiko.”


    He studied me before a grunt of acknowledgment.


    “This scroll contains a record from a defector about the Jingozi. The effort to obtain this knowledge was immense, and we went to great lengths to turn the Jingozi against their kind. Ryuunosuke would have sacrificed his life to ensure it reached me, and it seems he did exactly that.”


    My mind was filled with questions. Was the defector in the garden? Did Yukiko set me up like everybody else?


    He studied me again, his expression betraying nothing.


    “You have done a great service.”


    MISSION COMPLETE: SAMURAI SCROLL


    Deliver the scroll to the Shogun.


    LEVEL UPDATE


    Name: Ember [Doctrine Dealer]


    Tier: I [Iron] Rank 3


    He called for the court to return. Once settled in, the Shogun stood, commanding the room’s attention.


    “This girl has brought us valuable information,” he held the scroll high. “But I have one question before I make my judgment. It is clear that you possess magic we have not seen. If you know the Jingozi ways, you are either an agent for them or a spy for another faction.”


    He kneeled close, allowing me to see the contempt in his face.


    “Which one is it, girl?”


    I felt a pit of dread in my stomach. It was all happening so fast, but my gut told me to say nothing.


    “Arrest her,” he said. “The execution is to be in thirty days.”


    “But I brought you the scroll.”


    “Our laws are clear, and my judgment is final. You are not Samurai. You are something else. Your assistance does not absolve you of your affiliation, whatever it is.”Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    * * *


    The stone walls of the prison cell closed in as the guards threw me inside. The cell was small and dank, with a woven mat for a bed in one corner and a bucket in the other. Without natural light, the air felt heavy and smelt of mildew and decay. Without windows, a network of wired floating orbs with metallic coils lit the room.


    Two guards took their places just outside, their faces unreadable. One hand rested on the hilt of a sword, while the other held a long pole with a coiled prod on the end.


    The door to the prison block opened, and Jon Deerfoot entered, accompanied by a figure cloaked in shadow. I recognized the unmistakable aura of a Jingozi, but it stayed just out of sight.


    “Jon, you son of a bitch.”


    Jon gave a slight bow.


    “My dear, it’s only business. You must understand. It seems every faction is more interested in you than even I expected. And that always pays well. Besides, I fulfilled my part of the bargain. I said I''d get you an audience with the Shogun, and I did.”


    “Wait, how did you know I was…”


    Jon leaned in, anticipating my words.


    “Why are you here?” I finished.


    “You tell me,” he gestured to the Jingozi. “Our mysterious and brooding friend here won’t divulge anything beyond arranging this little visit.”


    The Jingozi remained silent.


    Jon continued, “At the behest of the Jingozi, the Samurai faction has agreed to spare your life if you publicly provide information about your plan and benefactors.”


    Now, I turned silent.


    “Look, Ember,” he continued. “I do like you—alluring in the right mysterious ways. In another time and another life, I’m sure things would be… different. But we’re here right now, and I don’t see you with any options. Do you earnestly want to scorn the Samurai and Jingozi only to die for whatever faction abandoned you?”


    He was so smug. But part of what he said rang true. Besides a geisha named Sora, I hadn’t met anybody from the Ninja faction like Yukiko had promised. But why are the Jingozi involved?


    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “And even if I did, I’d never give it to you.”


    “Suit yourself, but such a travesty. You have thirty days until your execution. I would be grateful, though. The Shogun has taken torture off the menu as a courtesy that hopefully changes your mind. That’s plenty of time for you to mull it over.”


    “Are you done?”


    “Ember, consider the offer. I implore you. Ask for me if you do.”


    Without warning, the room went pitch black. The lamps flickered back to life after a few moments in the darkness.


    “I swear, lightning power is so unstable,” Jon muttered. “Why don’t they use water Golems like the rest of the civilized world?” He turned and left, the Jingozi behind him. The door slammed shut.


    Despite the size of the cell, I began to practice Zii-Kata. Suddenly, a searing pain interrupted me. Electricity crackled through the air as I collapsed to the ground, my muscles spasming uncontrollably. The cell blurred, and I tasted metal as my body stiffened with every nerve ending on fire.


    The guards stepped back from the bars, their poles crackling with blue arcs of electricity. Trembling from the aftershocks, I deflated on the floor and closed my eyes.


    * * *


    “Is this place real,” I asked the voice in the Jingozi arena, “or is it all in my head?”


    “Why not both?” he answered.


    “How is that possible? I’m normal here, yet time is frozen out there.” I pointed to my prison cell in the floor’s reflection.


    “Your perspective and resulting construct of time is egocentric. You think all time revolves around your experience as the center of it all. To this day, most of humanity thinks the day starts when they wake up.”


    “So?”


    “Wouldn’t you agree as ‘time flies’ for one person, the same could feel like an ‘eternity’ for someone else?”


    “Of course.”


    “Good. Now we know time is relative, let’s challenge the notion that time is linear. What if it’s circular instead? Imagine a string. In linear time, that string is stretched from point A to point B. But if it was a circle, points A and B would be at the exact moment. So, if time is a relative circle, an individual can complete multiple circuits while others remain in one spot.”


    “Okay. I get the theory. But it still doesn’t explain how the Jingozi can suspend time to pull me from my world or create the Jingozi arena effect. And how can I slip in and out of time while others can’t?”


    “Great questions. Let’s start with the Jingozi. The Jingozi understand that if you stand in the circle’s center and draw a line through it, you intersect with two points in time. While one point may be the past and the other the future, both are relatively relevant to the individual in the center.”


    “A visual would be helpful,” I mumbled to myself.


    “Of course! If you would point your attention upward.”


    A sparkling diagram of a circle and line appeared in the arena sky.


    “Now, let’s take two people at the center of their circular timelines,” the voice continued as the one circle became two, each with a dot in the center. They overlapped to make a Venn diagram. “Where they intersect is how one person can be pulled into another’s timeline, otherwise known as dimensions. The space they share in the overlap defines the dynamics of their experience.”


    “Dimensions? But I thought this entire world is a dimension.”


    “Remember, it’s relative. While yes, every individual’s circle is a dimension unto itself, billions of people, each with unique circles, could be on the same timeline as part of a single dimension.”


    “Then how does my ability work?”


    “Ah, yes, we were getting to that. The Jingozi control access to dimensional timelines through their technology. They limit access, appointing themselves as gamemasters. But you, Ember, don’t rely on such technology.”


    “My gift…”


    “Yes.”


    “Then who gave it to me?”


    “You’ve always had it. Now it''s unlocked.”


    “Huh? I’ve never been able to freeze time.”


    “Look at the diagram again. When you were pulled into this dimension, you brought parts of yours with you. Your dimension contributes to the shared dynamic. It makes things interesting, wouldn’t you say?”


    “Can I use my gift to get home?” I asked.


    “I’m sorry, Ember, no. That’s up to the Jingozi. This is their game and their rules.”


    “Fine. So, if this is all happening for real, and I’m a dimension in another dimension, how much control do I have here?”


    “The answer is based on what you’re willing to believe.”


    “Believe? Like faith?”


    “Not in the way you’re thinking about it. But you’re getting warmer.”


    “Can I practice Zii-Kata here?”


    “If that’s what you would like, why not?”


    “Can I learn spells here?”


    “Absolutely.”


    “Then I have an experiment.”


    “Of course you do, Ember,” he chuckled. “That’s what we love about you.”


    Following a gut feeling, it would be a game-changer if my hunch worked.


    I practiced my Zii-Kata in the Jingozi arena. As expected, since I was alone, a floating red card appeared after what should have been hours if I was in the real-time physical world.


    Swiping the card, I braced myself.


    Pain lanced across my body as three shadows materialized, their dark forms wielding ghostly blades. The first cut skimmed my forearm—a whisper of agony. Another sliced my thigh. Then another. And another.


    "Not real. Not real. Not real," I chanted through gritted teeth.


    The shadows danced around me, their movements precise and calculated. Each slash peeled away layers - first, my ninja armor falling away in ribbons, then my skin beneath. Blood welled from countless wounds, trickling into a pool on the obsidian floor.


    My flesh burned as shadowy energy coursed through each cut. I collapsed to my knees, naked and trembling. The reflective surface showed my broken form, crimson spreading beneath me like spilled wine.


    "Focus," I whispered, watching my blood-streaked reflection. "It''s just another test."


    But the pain felt real. Every slice, every burning trail of shadow-tainted energy ripping through me, sent fresh waves of agony. My body wanted to curl up to protect itself from the relentless assault.


    I forced my eyes open, staring at my reflection in the growing pool of blood. The shadows continued their work, methodically covering every inch of my exposed skin with paper-thin cuts. My arms shook as I braced myself against the floor.


    "Not real," I repeated, even as darkness crept into the edges of my vision. "Not real."


    I blinked out of the arena and fell over in my cell, clutching my throat. Despite the cold sweat, the pain was already easing much earlier than usual.


    “What are you doing?” a guard said, raising his taser-prod.


    “Cramps,” I croaked. “It’s that time of the month. Sorry for being a woman.”


    The guards looked at each other dubiously but left it alone and returned to their positions. I checked my notifications.


    YOU HAVE RECEIVED A POWER CARD


    Shade Strike


    <ul>


    <li>


    PVP: Pay 1 Zii to plus +1 attack/risk or defend/reward (maximum +2).


    </li>


    <li>


    PVP: Pay 1 Zii to plus +1 attack/risk or defend/reward (maximum +2).


    </li>


    </ul>


    * * *


    Day [22/40]


    I returned to the Jingozi arena.


    “I did it,” I told the voice. “Since you''re giving me the power cards, I can grab them here and blink out with way less pain. I always hated that part, but if I can concentrate, I can shorten the time even more.”


    “That was clever. I’m impressed as always.”


    “But why does it have to be painful?.”


    “That''s not me. That''s the Jingozi''s fault. The power is from me. But the cards and game are theirs.”


    “Oh. Then I have more questions.”


    “Please, ask away.”


    “Why am I here? What’s the point of all this?”


    “How do you mean?”


    “The Jingozi brought me to this dimension so I could just… get executed? I mean, why go through all the trouble? Or are they that sadistic?”


    “I understand how you feel. But it’s a touch more complicated than that. You are part of their story as much as I am yours. What you should be asking is, what’s in it for them to let you die? What kind of story would that be?”


    “A pointless one.”


    “Exactly. Not to mention dull. In my experience, nothing is pointless or dull if you look at it from the right perspective.”


    “What’s that supposed to mean?”


    “Take a look below.”


    I peered into the swirling obsidian floor, examining my frozen image in the cell. I lay in bed. But with my amplified senses, something peeked out from under the mat—a small roll of parchment paper about the size of a pill.
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