Minamoto no Yorimasa plunged his sword into his belly without hesitation. He could even hear the blade slicing through flesh.
Seppuku is a samurai's glory.
.Don't be fooled by the blurb above. This story is not serious at all, and it's definitely not angsty. A-Zheng may be an old man now, but he still has a knack for causing trouble, tsk tsk tsk.
A few things to know before reading:
* This story was originally serialized under another one of the author's IDs. After some problems came up with that ID, the author locked the original story and moved it here to continue posting. I'm truly sorry, QAQ.
* The author is no history buff. I'm so terrible at history that even flipping through history books would be a disaster.
* Although A-Zheng was a real historical figure, the author made this whole thing up. I have no idea how far his personality is from the real historical figure.
* Everyone has their own version of Honmaru living in their heart, and everyone's characters differ at least a little.
* Finally, there are so many personal takes that it's hard to imagine, and the characters are wildly out of character.
I came here to remind you that the fanfic of the pellet hunter next door should be updated. I promised to update it during the summer vacation, but I didn't even see a comma.
Isn't that the black one Nue? X
Come on! By the way... I originally wanted to see what the author's name is so I can update it later, but when I saw my mother, as a staunch carnivore, my mouth watered.
Is the Inquisitor a guinea pig?
Super ~ looking forward to it (??????)??
Come on, I love the little lion so much