The wasteland stretched endlessly before them, but Kenshi’s mind was still lingering on the lingering sweetness that clung to his tongue. It was such a small thing, insignificant in the grand scale of his mission, yet it left an impression he couldn''t quite shake. Aiko, of course, had noticed.


    “You’re awfully quiet, samurai,” she teased as she adjusted the strap of her satchel. “Thinking about that sweet bun, aren’t you?”


    Kenshi didn’t dignify her with an answer, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. Aiko smirked. “I get it. Life’s different outside your little feudal bubble. First cyber-thieves, now pastries , it’s a lot to take in.”


    He shot her a sidelong glance. “I do not dwell on trivial things.”


    “Uh-huh,” she said, unconvinced. “You sure you weren’t just figuring out how to justify carrying a snack pouch on your fancy belt?”


    Kenshi exhaled slowly, returning his focus to the road ahead. “Enough talk. We have wasted time.”


    Aiko grinned. “Whatever you say, sugar samurai.”


    The air around them grew heavier with the acrid scent of burning fuel and rust. In the distance, an old highway overpass jutted out of the cracked earth, its skeletal remains standing like a forgotten guardian of the past. Kenshi scanned the area, sensing movement in the shadows.


    “Trouble,” he murmured, slowing his pace.


    Aiko’s hand instinctively went to her sidearm. “Scavengers?”


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Kenshi shook his head. “No. Too disciplined.” He gestured subtly to the figures lurking among the debris , shadows shifting with purpose, weapons ready. “Mercenaries.”


    Aiko cursed under her breath. “The King’s hounds finally caught up.”


    From behind the rubble, a deep voice echoed across the wasteland. “You shouldn’t have crossed the Scavenger King, Aiko.”


    A towering figure emerged, clad in mismatched armor and cybernetic implants humming with energy. Aiko tensed at the sight of him. “Damn. It’s Kaido.”


    Kenshi studied the man , a brute with a mechanical arm that crackled with static, his eyes glowing with augmented precision. Kaido smirked, tapping his arm with a metallic clang. “The King’s real upset. Figured he’d send me to collect.”


    Aiko raised her hands slightly, a casual smirk on her face. “Kaido, we both know you don’t really want to do this.”


    Kaido grinned. “Yeah? I get paid either way.”


    Kenshi stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “We have no quarrel with you. Step aside.”


    Kaido laughed, a harsh sound like grinding gears. “See, that’s the thing. The King wants your heads, and I like keeping my head attached to my shoulders. So, no can do.”


    Without warning, Kenshi moved. His katana flashed in the dying sunlight, slicing through the air as he closed the distance in a blink. Kaido barely had time to react before Kenshi’s blade met his mechanical arm, sparks flying as steel clashed with metal.


    Aiko drew her pistol and fired, forcing the other mercenaries into cover. “You just *had* to try talking first, didn’t you?” she shouted.


    Kenshi didn’t answer, focused entirely on Kaido. The mercenary grinned despite the sparks flying from his arm. “Not bad, samurai. But I’m built to last.”


    Kenshi pushed off, landing gracefully and taking a defensive stance. “Machines have limits.”


    Kaido roared and charged, his cybernetic arm shifting into a serrated blade. Kenshi sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the strike, and countered with a precise slash that left a deep gash across Kaido’s side.


    Aiko, ducking behind cover, fired off another shot and called out, “Hate to break it to you, but we’re kind of outnumbered here!”


    Kenshi assessed the situation. More mercenaries were closing in, their weapons trained on them. They couldn’t win this fight—not directly.


    “We retreat,” he said, slicing through another opponent before turning to Aiko. “Now.”


    Aiko didn’t need to be told twice. She fired one last shot, then turned and bolted toward the edge of the highway. Kenshi followed, deflecting a stray bullet with his blade before leaping onto the crumbling structure.


    Kaido shouted after them, his voice echoing through the wasteland. “Run all you want, samurai! The King’s reach is long!”


    As they disappeared into the ruins beyond, Aiko glanced back, panting. “So... next time, how about we just avoid making enemies?”


    Kenshi sheathed his katana and kept moving. “The path of honor is never without enemies.”


    Aiko rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe your path should take a detour next time.”


    Despite himself, Kenshi felt a small, fleeting smile tug at his lips. For all the dangers of this strange world,