Chapter 13: PRE-WASH
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As we stood amidst a mob of gleeful children waving sticks and chasing each other through the crowded courtyard, an elderly Japanese woman approached. Her demeanor was serene, but her eyes were sharp and calculating, reminding me uncomfortably of the grandmothers who would exercise in the park every morning in Japan. The way she carried herself, with such deliberate grace, made me instinctively straighten my posture.
Name: Yukiko [Covenant Dealer]
Tier VII [Obsidian] Rank ???
Faction: Samurai [Ronin]
Despite her age, she stood with grace, her long silver hair elegantly pinned up with a delicate jade pin. She wore a lightweight suit armor of intricate leather weave and metal accents adorned with subtle floral engravings. Her presence exuded calm wisdom.
“I have been expecting you,” she said, her voice melodic.
“You were?”
She bowed slightly.
“Come, let us have tea,” she beckoned. “And goodness, you could use a proper meal.”
We walked to a modest house with a thatched roof, the aroma of herbs and spices wafting through the air. Inside, the ambiance was cozy, with wooden beams and paper lanterns casting a warm glow. We sat at a low table, and she poured steaming tea into delicate cups.
“I’m Ember.”
She smiled knowingly.
“I know my child. I am called Yukiko. The Jingozi sent word of your pending arrival.”
Some children wearing aprons stepped in with plates of food. Yukiko embraced them before shooing them away. The tea was fragrant and soothing as we enjoyed a meal of rice, vegetables, and fish.
I couldn’t help but ask, “Why are there only children here?”
“They are Samurai sent to learn the ways of Jingozi. Our tradition is to nurture their skills and wisdom at a young age.”
I glanced at the children playing outside. Some were now laughing and dancing around Kitty as she imitated them on her hind legs.
“But I’m not Samurai,” I said. “My faction—”
“What you are makes no difference,” Yukiko interrupted, her voice firm yet gentle. “What is important is the Jingozi sent you. I am but one guide on your path.”
The room fell silent as I processed her words.
***
“Yes, Ember, your hunters are the Dark Elven—a race of elves that lived within the mountains for centuries until the Jingozi lured them out. Of all our kind, they adhere most to Jingozi beliefs, however, as more mercenaries than missionaries, I am afraid.”
Yukiko and I walked through the grass on the outskirts of the village. Kitty was draped on my shoulders as usual.
“Like a cult,” I said, confirming my suspicion they played a part in my Jingozi trial.
“Yes.”
“What about those tree tentacles?”
“Corrupted wood Golems,” Yukiko answered. “Blight—another class. They feed on the dead until nourished enough to take a more dangerous form.”
“And you know I’m not from your world?”
“Yes. You are humankind from a dimension called Earth.”
“Aren’t you human?”
“We might look human, but we are certainly not the same as you,” Yukiko chuckled. “But we are compatible. The Jingozi arranged it that way.”
“Is that why we speak the same language?”
"Not at all," she replied. "At this moment, we speak in Jingozi Common. But since you inhabit a local vessel from this realm, your mind processes everything in your language. The system is built to make communication feel natural. Even our idioms and cultural phrases get translated into something you can relate to as much as possible."
“How do you know so much?”
“I am a faction trainer and a dealer like you,” she said while linking arms. “My role is to guide and train the Samurai in Jingozi.”
“But you’re a Ronin?”
“I have no master like a true Samurai, although I still abide by our code. My faction does not fully accept me because I serve the Jingozi by teaching their ways. Yet, the Jingozi know I will never be loyal to them.” She looked into the sky before continuing, “The Jingozi are zealots, religious fanatics who know nothing about honor and only serve themselves.”
We circled the village once more in silence.
“Come, Ember,” she said. “Rest for the night. Tomorrow, your training begins.”
***
Day [9/40]
Training turned out to be nothing like I expected.
Instead of Jingozi matches, I sat cross-legged behind a small table in a classroom filled with children. Cragmarr had explained the Samurai faction prized intellect above all, and now I could see why. My young, over-achieving classmates took notes during Yukiko’s lecture while I struggled to keep my eyes open, feeling every bit like the college dropout I was.
Yukiko spoke at length about the various factions and their distinct approaches to Jingozi. The Ninja faction, she explained, was the most straightforward, relying on damage, strategy, and cunning. Ninjas were always the first to sacrifice their Zii in pursuit of victory. In contrast, the Golem faction, like Cragmarr, favored defensive tactics and counterattacks, rarely competing in Jingozi tournaments due to their more passive natures.
The Samurai prioritized tactical combos, honing their card strategies with meticulous precision. They were the most militarized and technologically advanced faction, second only to the Jingozi. Their armor, made from Zii-imbued alloy forged from metal Golems, was a testament to their blend of tradition and innovation.
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Next, Yukiko described the Monk faction, which consisted of dissidents who had rejected their former allegiances to seek monastic harmony with nature. Their approach to Jingozi was deeply spiritual. They used Zii magic to unleash powerful attacks and defenses, reflecting their desire for balance.
The Amazons and the Emperors were formidable in their own right. The Amazons, fierce women warriors, were military tacticians with versatile attack, defense, and magic strategies. They maintained a fragile alliance with the Emperors, whose dominating Jingozi style focused on draining opponents’ Zii for victory. The Emperors utilized a combination of magical attacks and armies of knights during gameplay.
When we mercifully broke for lunch in the mess hall, Kitty opted to hunt in the fields. As I slurped down a bowl of tasty noodles, I couldn’t help but notice how well-behaved and orderly the children were. In any other setting, one adult to dozens of kids would have been a zoo, but everyone knew their roles here, contributing like a young military operation. They also looked adorable in their gold uniforms and headbands.
Despite the youthful enthusiasm, the tension I felt upon arrival lingered. Everything seemed a little too disciplined, as if it was all a performance.
Yukiko’s cheerful voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Goodness,” she said. “You could use a hot bath.”
Spinning around, I couldn’t hide my excitement.
“Yes, please!”
***
Yukiko led me to the secluded hot springs nestled in the heart of the cliffs overlooking the village. Steam rose gently from the crystalline water, surrounded by smooth stones and lush greenery. She disrobed, revealing how fit she was for a woman who could’ve been my grandmother. After a moment of self-consciousness, I joined her, tossing my Ninja clothes into a pile.
As I slipped into the warm embrace of the springs, relief spread over every inch of my body. The soothing heat seeped into my muscles, easing the tension and soreness from a week of relentless threats and travel. Kitty dipped her tail in the water, decided it was not for her, and rolled up to nap in a tuft of grass.
I closed my eyes, letting the water carry away the grime and fatigue. The soft sound of bubbling springs and the faint scent of minerals filled the air, creating a tranquil vibe. Beside me, Yukiko relaxed. I was never a fan of spas in Vegas. But here, the warmth enveloped me like a gentle hug, melting away the stress.
“Are there more of us?” I asked. "Vessels, like me?"
“Many of you are identified in your dimension, but are not all summoned.”
“But some are here? Right now?”
“Possibly,” Yukiko leaned forward and massaged her neck. “We believe the Jingozi pay a dear cost to bring you here. We do not know why they do."
“Did the Jingozi show you how all that works?”
“No, they obscure their designs with protective secrecy,” Yukiko replied, gazing at me. “We know this because once you leave, your host will inherit your progress as a gift. Everything you have done will seem like a dream to her, which we document and interpret. It is a practice handed down to us by the First Prophet, Dojokynn. That is how we learn about the Jingozi, hoping that someday…”
Yukiko paused to gaze at me with glimmering eyes.
“Someday what?” I asked.
“As you say in your world, let us cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“But wait. You mean the woman hosting me is rewarded?”
“Yes. If you live and the vessel is not irreparably damaged, she will be a powerful warrior,” Yukiko said, flexing her bicep playfully. “She will continue as a Jingozi dealer and achieve higher titles on behalf of her faction.”
"Dealer titles? Like how I''m a Doctrine Dealer now."
"Yes, you are the lowest, and each of the seven levels grants greater Jingozi privileges. Let me show you."
A screen opened on my interface.
LEVEL 1 DOCTRINE DEALER:
The foundation of the Jingozi’s will, the Doctrine Dealer spreads the teachings of the Jingozi through their cards. With every deal, they preach the rules of fate and chance, introducing others to the eternal game where victory and loss are divine lessons.
LEVEL 2 DIVINE DEALER:
Chosen to embody the Jingozi faith, the Divine Dealer becomes a guide of destiny. Their every shuffle and draw reflects the unpredictable grace—or cruelty—of the cosmic forces that govern the tournament.
LEVEL 3 PROPHECY DEALER:
With insight beyond the veil, the Prophecy Dealer foretells triumphs and disasters through the cards. They are the interpreters of fate, weaving the threads of possibility into the unfolding narrative of every match.
LEVEL 4 COVENANT:
A guardian of oaths and wagers, the Covenant Dealer oversees the highest stakes, ensuring that every deal is honored and every consequence is absolute. In their hands, Zii becomes both bond and blade.
LEVEL 5 JUDGMENT DEALER
As the final word at every table, the Judgment Dealer deals with the authority of the Jingozi themselves. They decide winners and losers, not by skill alone, but by the decree of chaos and order entwined.
LEVEL 6 ARCH DEALER:
Standing above all tables, the Arch Dealer commands the cards and controls the flow of Zii with a mastery that blurs the line between player and force of nature. Their will becomes the game, and the game bends to their will.
LEVEL 7 PARAOX DEALER:
The highest and fervent calling—where chaos and order collapse into one. The Paradox Dealer does not play the game; they are the game. Existing beyond victory or defeat, they embody the infinite nature of the Jingozi’s cosmic wager, where every deal is both an end and a beginning.
"Everything seems to be built around the number seven," I remarked.
"Very astute," Yukiko replied. "It is the Jingozi way and part of their spiritual beliefs. To them, each title represents a sacrifice and responsibility that transcends all other ways and beliefs."
I wasn’t sure how I felt about all that.
“But hang on,” I said. “What does it mean to be chosen?”
“Chosen to play Jingozi. Why do you think all these children are here? They are all Jingozi apprentices, hoping to be selected as a dealer.”
I felt a shiver despite the warmth.
“Wait, what? You all volunteer for this?”
“Yes. It is the Jingozi way.”
“What the—” I caught myself before triggering the language filter. "I still don''t understand how any of this is possible. A little over a week ago, I was an introverted retired poker player with social anxiety. And now I''m a Ninja fighting… killing…"
“Why is that so strange?” she asked. “When you play what you call ‘video games’ in your dimension, are you not taking control of an avatar?”
“I guess.”
“Is it so hard to believe then, Ember? Considering what you now know about Zii and Jingozi technology?”
I thought about all the hours I''d spent playing World of Warcraft. Sure, video games were a thing, but you didn''t die for real if your party wiped during a raid in the game. What''s the point of all of this?
Sensing my frustration, Yukiko added, "I know it sounds terrible, my child, but just as the water does not choose the shape of the container, we too must flow until we shape our paths."
Yukiko hopped onto the side of the pool. As she laced up her armor, she caught me staring at my heap of dirty clothes—tattered rags. They were beyond filthy, with holes and tears.
Understanding my predicament, she filled a bucket with spring water and scrubbed my uniform. When she was done, she plopped the freshly cleaned garments into a soaking pile on the rock, the water running dark with the grime she’d managed to wash away.
“I’m going to turn into a prune waiting for those to dry,” I said.
“Here is a lesson,” she said, snapping her fingers to form a glowing gold Zii coin. “Remember, Zii is everywhere and in everything. You can use it to charge your cards, but you can also do this.”
Yukiko placed the Zii coin on my uniform and flicked a Jingozi card into her grasp. With a few gestures, channeling her Zii-Kata, the coin glowed brighter, its light spreading across the fabric. It melted into the cloth, the glow intensifying before fading. When the light subsided, my garments were transformed—fresh and pristine, as if they’d been picked up from the dry cleaners. Every hole and tear vanished, as good as new.
“How?” I said.
“Zii is a universal resource. But as a Jingozi dealer, you can harness its power creatively.”
“Then why go through the trouble of scrubbing first?” I asked. “Pre-wash?”
“To conserve,” she said while finishing up with her gear. “The more you can accomplish without Zii, the less you need. Always be mindful of your resources.”
“Cragmarr does the same trick when he cooks—fish and crabs mostly.”
“That makes me hungry. We shall eat, and then you rest.” Yukiko stepped on the path to the village. “No more lectures. Tomorrow, the real training begins.”
I stayed, scrubbing stubborn stains on my skin while admiring the view. The bath was better than expected, and I was clean for a change. Tomorrow, I’d get all sweaty again and probably worse.
That made me laugh.
This was my pre-wash.
***
The Jingozi parade their grandiose titles, each more absurd than the last. Yet in their pomposity lies a hidden peril. Their card-based faith may seem a foolish pastime, but behind every shuffle, they wield Zii as if gambling with the very laws of nature. Some bind us in wagers we cannot afford to lose, while others decide our fate on a whim of divine chance. Rumors speak of those who have ascended and now can bend reality to their will or stand beyond the rules entirely as living embodiments of chaos and order. Ridiculous? Perhaps. But we would do well to remember that absurdity can hide the sharpest blade.