God of Rebirth: Chronicles of Mmñjed

Chapter Four: The Path of the Tsuyoi Kazoku

Aiden woke up to the faint glow of dawn filtering through the small window of his room, the memories of the previous night still vivid in his mind. The fight, the mysterious woman, and the voice of Mmñjed—everything felt like a dream, but the bandage on his leg reminded him it was all too real. He lay in bed for a few minutes, letting the events replay in his mind, trying to make sense of the strange turn his life had taken.

He was grateful, at least, that Mmñjed had prepared him with a substantial amount of money—enough to live comfortably in this expensive country for a couple of years if he was careful. That, along with the sudden fluency in multiple languages, was a blessing he hadn’t anticipated but now fully appreciated.

Deciding it was time to face the day, Aiden got out of bed, stretched, and took a moment to appreciate the quiet of the morning. After freshening up, he dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, ready to explore the city and figure out his next steps.

As he stepped out of the guesthouse, the crisp morning air filled his lungs, clearing the last remnants of sleep from his mind. Vaduz was still waking up, and the streets were relatively empty, the early risers moving about in a leisurely fashion. The city had a quaint charm, with its old European architecture and the mountains in the distance standing as silent guardians over the valley.

Aiden walked through the narrow streets, taking in the sights. The city was a mix of old and new, with modern shops and cafes nestled between ancient stone buildings. The air was filled with the scent of fresh bread and coffee, and the distant tolling of church bells added to the serene atmosphere. As he wandered, he noticed an advertisement board ahead, written in both Japanese and German: *"Tsuyoi Kazoku Fighting Dojo, headed by Takeshi Tsuyoi."* The words caught his attention, and he paused to study the sign.

*Tsuyoi Kazoku*, he thought. It sounded Japanese, and the idea of a fighting dojo intrigued him. The memory of the previous night’s fight flashed in his mind—the power he had but the lack of real skill. Perhaps this dojo could offer him something more, a way to channel the strength he now possessed.

Curious but not yet committed, Aiden continued walking, deciding to explore a bit more before making any decisions. The city seemed to come alive as the morning progressed, with more people filling the streets. Aiden visited a few shops, chatting with the shopkeepers, buying some essentials—more out of an excuse to learn about the city than out of necessity. Each conversation revealed a little more about the people and the place, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the dojo.

By midday, Aiden found himself again passing by a sign for the Tsuyoi Kazoku dojo, this time in a different part of the city. It felt like more than a coincidence. The sign seemed to beckon him, as if Mmñjed himself were nudging him in this direction. Aiden felt a pull, an unspoken suggestion that this might be the path he needed to follow.

A short bus ride later, Aiden found himself in Schaan, the neighboring town. It was a smaller, quieter place compared to Vaduz, yet charming in its own way. But what truly caught his attention was the stop where he got off. Across the street stood a large Japanese-style house with a sprawling property, a sight that was out of place yet somehow fit perfectly into the landscape. A massive gate marked the entrance, and above it hung a sign: *Tsuyoi Kazoku Dojo*.

Aiden stood in awe for a moment, taking in the sight. The dojo was far larger than he had imagined, an impressive structure that radiated a sense of history and discipline. The main building was constructed in traditional Japanese style, with sliding doors, wooden beams, and a tiled roof that curved gracefully at the edges. Surrounding the main hall was a vast courtyard, neatly maintained with raked gravel and bonsai trees that added to the serene ambiance.

It suddenly clicked in his mind—Mmñjed’s words, “I will guide you,” echoed in his thoughts. Was this the path he was meant to take? The urge to enter the dojo grew stronger, fueled by a desire to learn and to improve, to ensure that next time, he wouldn’t just survive but emerge victorious.