Genshin Impact: Arataki Itto, No Longer the Clown!

Seven days later…

Byakuya Plain…

A tall man stood ready, his gaze fixed on his opponent. He sat atop a defeated Nobushi, yawning lazily, while behind him lay countless other Nobushi, most of them motionless, with only a few groaning in pain.

The man wore a purple undershirt, draped with a black, patterned cloak secured by an X-shaped strap across his chest. His shoulders were adorned with purple and white shimenawa ropes, and a brown belt cinched his waist, its metal buckle decorated with an oni mask. His arms were clad in spiked armor, and he wore dark gray pants with black wooden sandals. His body was covered in crimson markings, and his long white hair flowed freely down his back. A pair of fiery red oni horns protruded from his head, impossible to miss.

This unmistakable figure… was none other than Arataki Itto.

The man facing him wore blood-red samurai armor reminiscent of a Japanese general, his face obscured by a fearsome oni mask. A thick aura of killing intent surrounded him. His right hand rested on the hilt of the *tachi* at his waist, poised defensively.

He spoke gravely, "Who are you, sir? I've never seen you before. We should have no grievances between us. If my men have offended you in any way, feel free to deal with them as you see fit. I won't interfere. Moreover, I'll prepare a generous gift for you. I hope you'll consider ending this peacefully."

Despite the man's earnest words, Itto let out a mocking laugh. "A generous gift? Do you and your lackeys even have 100,000 Mora between you? If you were that rich, why would you live as outlaws, stealing and scavenging instead of living decent lives?"

That's right—the man was one of Inazuma's most despised: a Kairagi.

Ignoring the Kairagi's growing discomfort, Itto continued, "Tetsuki Saburo, formerly a samurai of the Shogunate. You were imprisoned for embezzlement, but during your transfer, you killed three guards and escaped with your brother. Now you're a Kairagi. Your bounty is 300,000 Mora, dead or alive. Oh, and your brother, Tetsuki Yuta, is worth 100,000 Mora. Same deal—dead or alive."

Saburo's eyes narrowed behind his mask. He knew there was no way out of this. His opponent was here for the bounty. It was a fight to the death. His only hope was to stall for time, giving his brother a chance to notice something was wrong. Together, they might stand a chance.

But one thing puzzled him: why would someone so strong bother with his meager bounty? With Itto's abilities, he could easily join the Shogunate's army under Kujou Sara or become a retainer for one of the Tri-Commissions, earning a fortune. Even if he despised wealth, why not live in seclusion? Why target him?

Saburo couldn't fathom it. Little did he know, Itto was even poorer than he was. The bounty was the sole reason for this encounter.

Saburo drew his tachi, his voice heavy. "So you're here for the bounty. Very well… Tetsuki Saburo, at your service."

Whoosh—

Itto's response was swift. He hurled a Nobushi's blade at Saburo, the weapon slicing through the air with terrifying speed. In an instant, it was at Saburo's face.

Saburo's muscles tensed as he raised his tachi to block. The blades clashed with a loud clang, and the thrown weapon fell to the ground. But before Saburo could catch his breath, Itto was already upon him, swinging another stolen blade at his neck.

The strike was merciless, the blade gleaming like a scythe of death. Saburo's pupils contracted as his instincts screamed at him to move. He twisted his body, slashing sideways to deflect the blow.

Clang!!!

The clash of steel sent sparks flying. Saburo staggered back several steps, his hands burning with pain and numbness.

"How…?!" Saburo exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.

The force of Itto's strike had been overwhelming. Saburo hadn't even completed his swing before Itto's blade met his, forcing him to block. The impact left his hands trembling, his grip on his weapon faltering.

Itto glanced at the blade in his hand, now chipped and cracked. He sighed inwardly. He wasn't skilled with swords, relying purely on brute strength. If he'd been wielding a heavier weapon, Saburo would have been sent flying.

"Guess I'll use Shusui for now," Itto thought.

He discarded the broken blade and reached into the air. In an instant, the hilt of a sword materialized in his grasp. He pulled, and the blade emerged from the void, its form gradually taking shape.

Itto examined Shusui closely. The blade was a ranbantai ōgyūji style, its surface a dark purple with red serrated patterns.

Shusui, the Black Blade—one of the 21 Great Grade Swords.

The moment Itto gripped the sword, he felt its weight. Unlike other legendary blades, Shusui was known for its durability, making it perfect for heavy strikes—exactly Itto's style.

"Sir, I concede. Do as you will with me, but… spare my brother," Saburo pleaded, his voice resigned.

The gap in their strength was too vast. Itto's strikes were crude, almost childlike, but his speed and raw power were monstrous. A single blow had left Saburo's hands numb and useless.

But his surrender wasn't solely due to Itto's strength. Saburo feared for his brother. If Yuta arrived and joined the fight, Itto's speed would make short work of him. Saburo couldn't bear the thought of his brother dying because of him.

Since becoming a Kairagi, Yuta had lived in constant fear. Saburo had failed him, and now, he hoped his death might buy Yuta's survival.

Itto's expression shifted, a flicker of mockery in his eyes. "How touching. A selfish Kairagi willing to die for his brother. Fine, I'll spare him. That's my promise to a man of loyalty."

Saburo relaxed. In his experience, men like Itto valued their word above all else. If he said Yuta would live, then Yuta would live.

"Thank you, sir—"

Before Saburo could finish, a blinding white arc of light filled his vision. Itto had moved faster than he could react, appearing behind him in an instant.

A thin red line appeared on Saburo's neck.

Then…

Tetsuki Saburo's head… flew into the air!!!

The head spun several times before landing, the mask falling away to reveal Saburo's shocked and terrified expression, frozen in a grotesque parody of life.

Blood gushed from the headless body like a fountain, drenching the ground and grass in crimson.

Itto turned away, his face impassive, as if the carnage around him meant nothing.

He looked at Saburo's lifeless body and muttered, "I'll keep my promise. When I see your brother, I won't kill him… because I already did."

His expression was cold, filled with killing intent, like a demon from a nightmare.

In a nearby grove…

A man in purple armor identical to Saburo's lay on the ground. One hand clutched his throat, the other limp at his side. Blood seeped through his fingers.

He was dead.

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