"You moved from Edo? Do you have to pay taxes when renting this house?"
As the clerk spoke, he took out a waist card, waved it in front of the Noh writer, and put the card back into his bag before he could see it clearly.
Shin'emon was now penniless, he had no money to eat, and he had no money to bribe, so he had no choice but to bite the bullet and said:
"Sir, I have traveled all over the world and passed through vassal states ranging from eight hundred to one thousand. I have never heard of paying taxes."
Corruption has penetrated into every corner of the shogunate, and Kyoto, a city with prosperous business, is no exception.
"I'm really sorry. I'm new here and don't know the rules of Kyoto, but I really have no money."
Omura looked Shin'emon up and down and pressed his fingers on the scabbard.
"No money? Really?"
Shinemon gritted his teeth and gave Omuramasa the few remaining coins in his pocket.
The clerk shook the copper plate in his hand. He probably thought it was too little. He raised the corners of his mouth and said cold words:
"Come on, take me into the house and check it out. See if there is anything prohibited."
Shin'emon hesitated for a moment, took the fire seal, and led Omura towards the secret passage.
The room was still as it was, with nothing else except a few chairs and a table.
The Noh drama writer looked at the clerk who was blackmailing him.
The clerk's face was gloomy, as if he was very angry. He walked quickly to the center of the room and stared at the discarded manuscript paper on the desk.
"You usually write... Noh plays here?" the clerk asked.
"Yes. This is exactly why I came to Kyoto. It's quite peaceful here. It's suitable for writing stories about the rice god's apparition."
Omura nodded thoughtfully, turned and walked towards the niche and iron plate.
Omura leaned close to the wall and traced the blurred symbols with a long index finger. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like gibberish.
"God of all gods...K" yarnak..."
Omura's face was gloomy and pale.
"I've seen enough, there's no problem." He said softly. "I gotta go."
Shin'emon was surprised. He thought the other party was going to ask him for money, but he didn't expect it to end like this.
Omura stood up, hesitant.
"Let me ask you this. Do you have to live in this house and write your ghost stories?"
Shin'emon sighed helplessly and patiently explained to the clerk:
"I wanted to find a quiet place to write a story, and any quiet place would do. But it seemed difficult to find it. Until I came to this "Kamakura Witch Chamber", the story suddenly became easier. I don't know any reason to move, and it might affect my livelihood. Do you understand? I make money by writing stories..."
Omura Masaaki didn't seem to listen to him, but looked around, looking for some creature hidden in the wall:
"Actually, I'm not only here to ask you for money, but also..."
He stared at Shin'emon's face for a while, then continued.
"Kyoto is not peaceful. You know there used to be a time when witches could communicate between the two worlds.
"This room of yours is a bridge of communication!"
Shinemon wanted to interrupt, but Omura continued talking.
He took a step back, the passion in his eyes gone, replaced by harshness and indifference.
"They call this kind of bridge the Black Warrior, and the ancestors used it to do evil. I have read that the Kamakura witch cursed the Japanese country in the past - the witch's curse can be a very terrible thing. I-"
Omura stood up and bit his lip.
"I'm going to come again tomorrow."
Shin'emon nodded bewilderedly.
~~~~~
Shin'emon woke up before dawn.
His heart was beating wildly, and a strange, uneasy feeling enveloped him.
He could hear the lizards slinking about in the walls and under his bed
Channel.
He hurriedly got out of bed, shivering in the cold gray darkness of the morning. The pale moon still casts a faint light in the gray sky.
He remembered what Omura had said.
I immediately got dressed and went out to buy some tempura.
When I reached a corner, I turned left without thinking. There were very few people on the street, not even samurai or ronin, and the strange feeling intensified again. He walked slowly, thinking.
"I heard that Amaterasu transformed into a giant lizard."
Shin'emon muttered to himself.
Finally pedestrians appeared and people gathered on the sidewalk.
He quickened his pace, feeling that disaster was coming.
In the middle of the crowd, a ronin leaned against the wine house, his hands tightly grasping the wall in front of the wine house, and the muscle tattoos on the back of his hands were bulging.
The ronin was dead, his face twisted at a very strange angle, looking down at the earth.
The clerk raised his face, and what was left on his face was an extremely shocking expression of horror.
The dead man rolled his eyes, which bulged horribly; his mouth was twisted into a smile.
Someone next to Shinemon said:
"Looks like he was scared to death."
~~~~~
When he got home, he found Omuramasa, the persevering little official, waiting for him.
"Have you seen Saburo Yoshino?"
Muramasa asked straight to the point.
Shin'emon's eyes widened, then he took out a clay pot, started to pour hot water, slowly mixed a cup of tea, and handed it to Muramasa.
"You mean the dead ronin?"
"Exactly."
"I have no idea,"
Shin'emon said drowsily and rubbed his forehead. "I can't remember."
"Last night, that ronin was scared to death." Omura wrote lightly.
Shinemon asked quickly: "A store was robbed, and Ronin was scared to death. Is that right?"
"Shin'emon, you are deceiving yourself. Yoshino's death has nothing to do with theft!"
"He said something he shouldn't have said and offended the witch!"
Omura said calmly.
"In your heart, you know - you must know - the truth. You have become the witch's messenger, Shin'emon. For three hundred years, the Kamakura witch has been lying in her tomb - undead - -Waiting for someone to wake her up - the "witch room". Maybe she foresaw the future when she built it. One day, someone, that is, you, would accidentally break into that evil house and fall into a trap. "
"Now, you've fallen into a trap."
Shin'emon doesn't believe that the Kamakura wizard from more than two hundred years ago is still alive.
However, wizards can easily hypnotize people in Kyoto.
It could all be an illusion.
She can easily force people to go to her tomb and pull out the stake that holds her there, and then she can erase what you did from your memory so that even if you thought it was a dream, you can't remember it. Something happened! "
Shin'emon stood up, a strange light flashing in his eyes.
"My lord, Your Majesty Amaterasu, do you know what you are talking about?"
Muramasa let out a harsh laugh.
"Might as well say it's the devil - it's not just the Tatars that threaten Japan right now, there's the devil; Kyoto is under threat, a terrible threat. When those men, women and children tied the Kamakura wizard to the stake At the barbecue - they found they couldn't burn her and she cursed them... I'm here to ask you one last time to get out of this house."
"Are you finished?"
Muramasa said coldly. "I'm not leaving here. You're either crazy or drunk, but your nonsense doesn't move me."
"If I give you a thousand cash, will you leave?" the clerk asked.
"Or more, um - ten thousand? I have a lot of money."
"No
, go to hell! If you want to behead, behead, I've had enough! "
Shin'emon suddenly became angry.
"I just want to be left alone. To finish my story. I can't write anywhere else - I don't want to, I can't, don't scare me with ghosts and gods! So, please! Please get out immediately."
