Chapter 131: Roots Beneath the Stone
Jin stepped through the dim halls of the old school, the light from outside fading behind him, replaced by the low ambient hum of the forest's quiet breath. The deeper he went, the more the building resembled something not entirely manmade, nature folding in on the old structure like it had been waiting for the excuse to reclaim it.
The air was cool. Still. Not unfriendly, but expectant.
Jin's boots crunched lightly over a trail of bark-stiff moss, his hand resting near the strap that crossed his back, where the katana hung. The longer he walked, the more the silence stretched. Not heavy, but patient.
He passed the old main office, now half-consumed by thick root webs. A mural on the wall had long since faded into vague color and shape, its edges overtaken by crawling vine patterns. The forest hadn't just taken the building, it had grown with it.
Jin stopped and looked up toward the ceiling, then turned his head slightly and exhaled.
"Alright," he called, voice low but echoing. "No more riddles. You wanted me to come talk, so talk."
Nothing answered at first.
Then, behind him, the ground cracked.
Not loud. But sharp enough to draw reflex.
Jin spun, hand already drawing the blade across his back. A clean whisper of steel, no pause, no hesitation, his body knew the motion better than thought.
He halted mid-step.
A figure stood barely a foot from him, unmoved by the blade now hovering inches from its neck.