Amidst a silence that weighed heavily on the room, Ieyasu spoke as if to himself.

  "Mr. Kanbe'e... Immediately after the day Mr. Nobunaga passed, the road to Kyoto that you and your men charged through was swept remarkably clean. It was as if someone had been waiting, even before that day, for someone to pass through..."

  Without so much as an eyebrow twitching, Kanbe’e replied in code.

  "Is that so...? A clumsy man like myself can do little more than place a few lamps, so that a lost lamb might find its way safely to Deus..."

  For a moment, Ieyasu shot a piercing look at Kanbe’e, thinking, 'Just as I suspected.' He had seen through it—that the cursed events at Honno-ji were all orchestrated by Kanbe’e. In all the vastness of the land, Ieyasu Tokugawa was the only one to realize this.

  Yet, it was because of those events that the age of warring states was becoming a thing of the past. There was no longer any meaning in bringing the truth to light. However, driven by his own curiosity, Ieyasu decided to probe just once more.

  "By the way... is Mr. 'Nagamasa' well? Though he received a character from the name of Mr. Nobunaga, to my ears, that name sounds like a terrifying incantation—one that resurrects the grudges of Nagamasa Azai..."

  Kanbe’e’s lips curled into a faint smile as he replied:

  "Perish the thought. It is merely a 'name'... Besides, as long as one piles the earth deep, deep enough so that the dead do not appear in the dreams of the living, there will be no one left to utter complaints..."

  It was undoubtedly this man who used Mitsuhide to eliminate Nobunaga, and who hid the body... Ieyasu realized this through Kanbe’e's words. In that instant, Ieyasu felt cold sweat trickling down his back.

  (This man is truly a terrifying 'Monster'...)

  Careful not to let Kanbe’e sense his realization, and determined never to make an enemy of him, Ieyasu responded with a low chuckle.

  "There is no one in this world who could sleep soundly in their bed having made an enemy of a man like Mr. Kanbe'e... However, this picture scroll you have painted—it is nothing short of masterly."

  Prostrating himself to avoid Ieyasu’s gaze, Kanbe’e spoke.

  "You flatter me beyond words... Mr. Ieyasu, your ability to 'pretend not to see' was also truly masterly."

  Ieyasu trembled. He had no choice but to set his teacup down immediately to prevent Kanbe’e from seeing his hand shake. To Ieyasu, the fact that history was being moved atop this man’s palm was far more terrifying than being targeted by an assassin.

  (So, he knew all along that I had seen through him...)

  Deep within Kanbe’e’s eyes, Ieyasu saw countless calculations sparking like fire. He realized that he was not peering into the abyss—the abyss was peering back, ready to consume him.

  The moment Kanbe’e’s smile deepened, the candle flame in the room let out a sharp crack. In that momentary flash of light, Ieyasu felt he saw the true visage of the man who had transformed into a monster in the earthen dungeon of Arioka, seeking to swallow history itself.

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  After a polite bow, Kanbe’e vanished into the dark night. The sound of his irregular staff and footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

  The following day, the 27th, the historic "Rite of Submission of Ieyasu Tokugawa" held in the Great Hall of Osaka Castle proceeded without a hitch. Surrounded by daimyo and court nobles, Hideyoshi sat upon the high seat, and Ieyasu prostrated himself exactly as rehearsed. This visual hierarchy was the ultimate objective—to proclaim to the realm that "The Tokugawa has yielded to the Toyotomi."

  With this, the Kanpaku, Hideyoshi Toyotomi, having brought Ieyasu Tokugawa to heel, proceeded with the "final touches" of ruling the realm. Kanbe’e Kuroda supported this from the shadows, but because he was too efficient, he would eventually be feared by Hideyoshi and forced into retirement...

  Four hundred and some odd years later.

  Having finished his series of deductions, Sakamoto concluded his tale.

  "Historical researchers always say things like 'it's impossible because there's no mention in primary sources.' But back then, not just Kanbe’e Kuroda, but many powerful figures had released numerous Ninjas into Kyoto. They were spies in the modern sense. They moved history beneath the surface... That’s why people who say 'there’s no material' or 'no evidence' are failing to see these covert operations."

  Sakamoto added that the asymmetry of information serves as a warning to modern people.

  "Mitsuhide’s soldiers were able to strike down the Demon King only because they didn't know the truth. What about today? People believe without a doubt that they have chosen their own 'preferred truth' from their favorite videos. But have you ever considered who is holding the 'faucet' of that information? That faucet might be held by a modern-day 'Kanbe’e' of the Reiwa era..."

  Tanabe stared with his mouth agape, unsure if he fully grasped the weight of Sakamoto's words.

  "Perhaps Kanbe’e Kuroda is smirking from somewhere, watching historians argue about 'sources' and 'evidence'."

  Sakamoto lit a cigarette as if his work were done. Asakawa shouted:

  "Hey, Mr. Sakamoto! I'm always telling you not to smoke there!"

  "Sorry, sorry."

  Looking awkward, Sakamoto moved under the ventilation fan. In the process, he tripped over nothing, his left hand knocking over a stack of documents. Seeing this, Asakawa clutched her head with an expression of pure exasperation.

  "Ugh! Mr. Sakamoto! What are you doing!? Honestly... you are so 'clumsy'!"

  "Ah—sorry, sorry..."

  He apologized awkwardly again, but seemed so used to being scolded that he didn't truly mind, even humming a tune. Tanabe, still enthralled by Sakamoto’s deductions, was moved to emotion.

  "Incredible... a perfect flow. It's too amazing! Your deductive powers are on par with Detective Conan..."

  "Tanabe. Finding evidence like Conan is important, but in history, it’s much more important to notice 'the things that should be there but have disappeared.' The culprit’s confession, the murder weapon, even the victim’s remains... Even a great detective can't find evidence that has been erased, right?"

  "Mr. Sakamoto! If you presented this somewhere, everyone would be shocked!"

  "Don't be foolish, Tanabe. There isn't a single thing to prove it."

  "No, but it’s just too perfect... and Conan always says, 'There is always only one truth!'"

  As he rambled on, Tanabe suddenly noticed something. Sakamoto’s fly, which had been open, was now closed.

  "Impossible! No one would believe it. Right, I'm heading home for today. Miss Asakawa, please lock up."

  With that, Sakamoto left. Asakawa ignored him.

  After Sakamoto was gone, Tanabe forgot his previous excitement and thought to himself.

  (By the time I noticed, Mr. Sakamoto’s fly was up. When did he zip it? To zip it without stopping the conversation, and without me even noticing...)

  Tanabe found himself impressed by such a trivial thing.

  The sun, still high but leaning slightly to the west, was dazzling. As Sakamoto looked up at the sky as he always did and began walking proudly down the road to the station, there was a man silently watching him go.

  His face was hidden, but he wore a hood and leaned on a staff carved with the Wisteria-Tomoe (Fujidomoe) crest. He was dressed like a genius strategist who had appeared in the modern world. Watching Sakamoto’s retreating figure with warmth, a smirk played upon the man's lips.

  Produced and written by a Japanese author, rooted in authentic Japanese history. Translated with the assistance of Gemini (AI).