Chapter 7: The Portuguese

  The Portuguese ship smelled different.

  That was Kazuki's first thought as he stepped foot onto the deck. Not bad, necessarily, but strangely foreign. Tar and salt and something else—tobacco, maybe, or spices he couldn't identify yet. The wood was different too, harder than Japanese cedar, darker in color.

  Everything felt strangely alien to him.

  The crew stared at them openly. Men with skin ranging from pale to deeply tanned, wearing clothes Kazuki had only seen in history books. Loose shirts, fitted trousers, some even with bandanas or wide-brimmed hats. A few had scars that spoke of combat and fights. Most carried knives openly.

  These were battle hardened men who'd sailed halfway around the world. Not to be underestimated easily.

  The captain led them to the stern castle, up stairs to a cabin that served as both office and living quarters. Inside, maps covered one wall, charts of coastlines, trade routes, colonized territories Kazuki recognized from his previous life's geography classes. A table dominated the center of the room, covered in ledgers, weights, samples of trade goods.

  "Sit," the captain said, gesturing to rough wooden stools.

  They sat. The captain remained standing, studying them with those calculating eyes.

  "I am Captain Fernando Mendez," he said in his heavily accented Japanese. "Of Lisbon. Sailed four years from home to reach these waters. You understand? Four years. Not a journey for the faint hearted."

  "I understand," Kazuki replied. "And I appreciate you spending your precious time to speak with us."

  "Time is money, as we say. So let us not waste it." Mendez leaned against the table. "Lord Tokitaka says you want our arquebuses. Our so called thunder-sticks. Why?"

  "Because they're superior to our traditional weapons. More powerful. More efficient."

  "You've seen them demonstrated?"

  "No. But I understand the basic principle. Gunpowder, ignition, projectile. Physics, not fantastical magic."

  Mendez's eyebrows rose. "You know of gunpowder? Of how these weapons work?"

  Careful. Don't reveal too much.

  "I've read about similar devices. In ancient Chinese texts." The lie came easily over his lips. "I understand the concept, even if I haven't seen the actual implementation."

  "Interesting. Most Japanese think our guns are some kind of foreign sorcery. Divine punishment from an angry god." Mendez moved to the table and picked up what looked like a ledger. "But you, you speak of physics. Of principles. You're quite educated."

  "I try to be."

  "And young. How old are you even? Twenty?"

  "Yes."

  "Young, educated, curious about foreign technology." Mendez set down the ledger. "What is your position? Your authority? Can you actually afford what you're asking for?"

  Honda stirred beside Kazuki, but remained silent. This was Kazuki's negotiation.

  "I'm the third son of the Daimyo of Karatsu," Kazuki said honestly. "Not the heir. Not the important one. But I control certain resources. I have gold to trade. And more importantly, I have a vision."

  "Vision." Mendez smiled. "Tell me about this vision of yours."

  "Japan is currently fragmented. A time of chaos, of war. Warring States constantly at each others throats. Every domain fights for survival. Traditional weapons, swords, spears, bows, they're limited by the user's strength and skill. But firearms? Firearms let a peasant kill a master swordsman easily. They change everything on the battlefield."

  "And you want to be the one who controls those changes."

  "I simply want to survive. And to survive, I need advantages my enemies don't have."

  Mendez walked to the window, looking out at the harbor. "Your honesty is refreshing. Most Japanese lords pretend their interest is purely defensive. You admit you want actual power."

  "Everyone wants power. I'm just openly honest about it."

  "True enough." The captain turned back. "But wanting something and being able to afford it are two different things. These weapons are expensive. The gunpowder more so. And we have only limited stock. Many buyers, few guns."

  "What's your price?"

  "For one arquebus? Five hundred gold ryo."

  The number hit them like a physical blow. Five hundred ryo. That was... enormous. More than the annual income of some minor samurai families. For one gun.

  Honda's sharp intake of breath confirmed what Kazuki already knew. They couldn't afford it.

  "That's substantial," Kazuki said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

  "That's the price. Supply and demand, young lord. We have the only guns in Japan. We can charge what we want."

  Kazuki's mind raced. Takeshi's business education kicked in. When you can't afford the asking price, you change the terms of negotiation.

  "What if I'm not buying one gun?" Kazuki said. "What if I'm buying a relationship?"

  Mendez turned, interested. "Explain."

  "You're merchants. You didn't merely sail four years from Lisbon just to sell three guns and leave right after. You want to establish proper trade. Regular, profitable trade. But you need local partners to achieve that. People who can facilitate, provide resources, protect your interests."

  "We have Lord Tokitaka for that."

  "Tokitaka is the lord of only one island. One small island. What I'm offering you is access to mainland Kyushu. A protected harbor, coal that burns hotter than charcoal, vast iron deposits, and most importantly, a lord willing to work with you instead of against you."

  Mendez was listening intently now.

  "Most Japanese lords will be suspicious of foreigners," Kazuki continued. "They'll see you as threats to their authority, as crude barbarians who might corrupt their noble culture. I see you as proper business partners. Give me firearms now, at a price I can actually afford, and I'll give you a permanent trading base. Exclusive rights to Karatsu's port. Access to our resources. Protection from interference."

  "You're offering a trade monopoly."

  "I'm offering you mutual benefit. You get a secure base in Japan. I get access to your technology. Everyone profits at the end."

  "And can you actually deliver this? You said yourself you're not the heir."

  "Not yet. But I will be."

  The confidence in his voice surprised even himself.

  Mendez studied him for a long moment. "You're either extremely brave or extremely foolish."

  "I've heard that before."

  "I imagine you have." The captain returned to the table, pulling out a different ledger. "Let me tell you something, young lord. I've been trading in Asia for fifteen years. I've dealt with Chinese merchants, Indian princes, Javanese sultans. And I've learned something important—the most valuable partners aren't always the richest or the most powerful. They're the ones who think differently. Who see opportunities others easily miss."

  He looked up at Kazuki.

  "You remind me of those people. Which means you're either going to be very successful or very dead. Possibly both."

  "I'll take those odds gladly."

  Mendez laughed, a genuine sound. "I like you. God help me, I actually like you. Alright. Let's negotiate properly this time."

  He gestured for them to gather around the table. He pulled out samples—a complete arquebus, small bags of what must be the gunpowder, and some lead shots.

  "This is what we're selling," Mendez said, running his hand along the arquebus. "Matchlock design. Portuguese craftsmanship. Effective range of about one hundred paces. Can kill a man in full armor at that distance easily."

  Kazuki picked up the weapon carefully. It was heavier than he'd expected, maybe four or five kilograms.

  Takeshi's mind recognized the design immediately. Serpentine lever, spring-loaded. Touch hole connecting pan to main charge. Basic physics, controlled explosion, directed force.

  He already understood the theory. But theory wasn't enough.

  I need the physical samples, he thought. Need to see the tolerances, the metallurgy, the practical implementation. Need to understand what these Portuguese craftsmen discovered through trial and error that I only know from textbooks.

  And most importantly, I need the alibi.

  When I return to Karatsu and start producing firearms, I can say "I learned from the Portuguese." Not "I remembered it from my previous life as a 21st-century engineer."

  These guns aren't just weapons. They're my cover story.

  The mechanism was visible, the matchlock, the pan for powder, the trigger. Simple, really. Elegant in its simplicity.

  "How does the ignition mechanism work exactly?" he asked, feigning curiosity he didn't entirely feel.

  "You load the powder and shot down the barrel. Prime the pan with finer powder. Light the match, this cord here. And pull the trigger. The match drops into the pan, ignites the powder, which ignites the main charge. The explosion propels the shot out of the barrel."

  "And the match needs to stay lit?"

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  "Yes. One of the weapon's current limitations. Rain makes it difficult to use. But in dry conditions, devastating effect."

  Kazuki set the arquebus down carefully. "How many do you have for sale?"

  "Currently? We have twelve. We sold three to Lord Tokitaka already. That leaves nine."

  "And the price for nine guns?"

  "At five hundred ryo each? Four thousand five hundred ryo."

  Impossible. They had three hundred fifty ryo total.

  "That's beyond our current resources," Kazuki admitted. "But I have a counter-proposal."

  "I'm listening."

  "I'll pay you one thousand ryo now. For three guns, ammunition, and most importantly, instruction. Teach me how they work. How to make gunpowder. How to maintain them. The technical knowledge."

  "You want to learn to make them yourself."

  "Eventually, yes."

  I already know how, Kazuki thought. At least in theory. Takeshi had studied the history of firearms extensively, the chemical composition of gunpowder, the metallurgy required for barrels, the mechanics of ignition systems.

  But there was a vast difference between theoretical knowledge and practical implementation. The tolerances. The materials. The specific techniques that only came from hands-on experience.

  "But that will take time," he continued aloud. "Meanwhile, I'll establish the trading relationship I mentioned. Exclusive access to Karatsu's port and resources. And when I need more guns, I will buy them from you. Not from any competitors. Only from you."

  Mendez considered. "One thousand ryo for three guns and technical instruction. That's way below market price."

  "It's an investment price. You're investing in a long-term partner. Think of it as buying market access."

  "And what guarantee do I have that you'll honor this arrangement? That you'll actually control your domain's port?"

  "None. You're taking a risk on me. But consider this—I'm here, aren't I? I sailed three days through pirate infested waters to reach here. I'm clearly serious about this. And I'm offering you something no other Japanese lord will: genuine partnership, not grudging tolerance."

  Hattori shifted slightly. Honda remained still, but Kazuki could feel his rising tension.

  This was the crucial moment. Acceptance or rejection. Deal or no deal.

  Mendez walked to the window again, staring out at the harbor. The silence stretched on for some time.

  Finally: "You drive a hard bargain for someone with no actual leverage."

  "I have one piece of leverage. I'm the only person in this harbor who's offering you a real future in Japan. Everyone else just wants to buy from you and wants you to leave. I want to build something lasting."

  "True." Mendez turned back. "Alright. One thousand two hundred ryo. Three arquebuses, three hundred shots of ammunition, one barrel of gunpowder, and two weeks of instruction. I'll teach you personally how to use, maintain, and if you're clever enough, how to replicate them."

  "Two weeks? We can't stay here that long."

  "Then you can't learn everything properly. This is already complex technology. You need some time to understand all of it."

  Kazuki thought quickly. Two weeks away from Karatsu. Two weeks for his brother to consolidate more power, to convince their father that Kazuki had abandoned the domain for good. Two weeks for everything to fall apart.

  But two weeks to truly understand this period's firearms. To learn not just how to use them, but how to make them.

  "One week," Kazuki countered. "Intensive instruction. I'm a fast learner. And I'll pay the one thousand two hundred ryo."

  Mendez smiled. "You're negotiating even after I've already compromised. Bold."

  "Necessary."

  "One week. But you'll work. Every day, all day long. I'll teach you everything I can. If you can't keep up, that's your problem."

  "Agreed."

  Mendez extended his hand, Western style. Kazuki had seen this gesture in his previous life. He took the captain's hand and shook it firmly.

  "We have a deal, young lord. One thousand two hundred ryo for three guns, ammunition, powder, and one week of instruction."

  "Deal."

  They released their handshake. Mendez called out in Portuguese. A crew member appeared, and they had a rapid conversation Kazuki couldn't follow.

  The crew member left, returning minutes later with three arquebuses, carefully wrapped in oiled cloth. A small barrel, presumably gunpowder. Leather pouches containing shots and wadding.

  Kazuki pulled out the coin pouches from his pack. Counted out one thousand two hundred ryo onto the table. It was almost all their money. Fifty ryo were left for food and lodging during their stay.

  We're committed now. No turning back.

  Mendez counted the coins carefully, then swept them into a strongbox. "Pleasure doing business with you. Now, let's begin your weapon education."

  He picked up one of the arquebuses, handling it with the familiarity of long practice.

  "Lesson one: this weapon is not magic. It's basic engineering principles. Understand the underlying principles, and you can easily replicate it. Fail to understand it properly, and you'll just be a man with very expensive clubs."

  He laid the arquebus on the table, then to Kazuki's surprise, began disassembling it.

  "Every part has a purpose. Every mechanism serves a function. Watch carefully. I'm only going to show you this once."

  Kazuki leaned forward, Takeshi's engineering training activating. Honda and Hattori crowded close as well.

  For the next two hours, Mendez disassembled the arquebus piece by piece.

  Kazuki watched with feigned fascination, asking questions he already knew the answers to.

  "The barrel," Mendez explained, running his hand along it. "Smooth-bored, not rifled. Rifling is too expensive, too difficult to manufacture consistently. For military weapons, this is sufficient."

  Kazuki nodded. Takeshi's knowledge had already told him that. But he asked anyway: "What about accuracy?"

  "At one hundred paces? A skilled shooter can hit a man-sized target reliably. Beyond that, it's less predictable. But in battle, volume of fire matters more than precision."

  The lock mechanism came next. Spring-loaded serpentine, simple lever action. Takeshi understood it immediately—basic mechanical engineering, no different from a crossbow trigger in principle.

  But he couldn't show that.

  "Fascinating," Kazuki said, examining the spring. "So when the trigger releases the sear, the spring provides the force to bring the match down?"

  "Exactly. The key is tension. Too weak and it won't ignite reliably. Too strong and the mechanism wears out quickly."

  I already know this, Takeshi thought. But I need to see the actual tolerances. The specific metallurgy they use. The tricks that only come from practical experience.

  "The stock," Mendez continued, "is carefully shaped for shouldering. The angle matters, too steep and the recoil is unmanageable. Too shallow and it's inaccurate."

  Kazuki picked it up, feeling the weight distribution. His engineering mind catalogued everything—balance point, wood density, how the metal components integrated with the wooden frame.

  This is what I needed. Not the theory. The implementation.

  And the alibi.

  "The key is precision," Mendez explained. "Every part must fit exactly. Too loose, and the mechanism fails. Too tight, and it jams easily. This is why only few can make quality firearms. It requires a kind of craftsmanship beyond what most smiths possess."

  "But it can be learned," Kazuki said.

  "With time and practice, yes. The Chinese have been making them for years. The Japanese..." he smiled. "The Japanese are excellent craftsmen. I have no doubt you'll master this faster than any European ever could."

  "How did you learn it?"

  "I didn't. I'm a merchant, not a gunsmith. But I've worked with gunsmiths for years. Watched them. Asked questions constantly. Learned enough to teach the basics."

  He reassembled the weapon with practiced efficiency. "Tomorrow, you'll do this yourself. Disassemble and reassemble until you can do it blind. Then we move to loading, firing, maintenance. One week is barely enough time, but we'll manage somehow."

  A crew member appeared in the doorway, speaking rapid Portuguese.

  Mendez replied, then turned to Kazuki. "My man will show you to your quarters. There's an inn in town that caters to foreign sailors. I've arranged rooms for you there. Tomorrow, we begin at dawn. Don't be late."

  "We won't."

  They gathered their newly purchased weapons carefully. Three arquebuses, wrapped and protected. Gunpowder barrel sealed tight. Ammunition secured.

  One thousand two hundred ryo. Their entire fortune gone, essentially. Bet on weapons they didn't yet know how to use from a foreign merchant they'd just met.

  Insane. Absolutely insane.

  But also necessary.

  They descended from the ship, weapons in hand. On the dock, people stared. Word would spread quickly. The young lord from Karatsu had bought foreign weapons.

  Good. Let them talk.

  Lord Tokitaka appeared, looking curious. "You managed to negotiate with Captain Mendez. Impressive. Few accomplish that."

  "We found common ground," Kazuki said.

  "And you bought weapons. Three of them." Tokitaka's expression was unreadable. "You realize what this means? What you're starting?"

  "I'm starting the defense of my realm. Nothing more, nothing less."

  "Perhaps. Or perhaps you're starting something much larger than you intend." He gestured toward the town. "The inn is this way. I'll walk with you. We should talk."

  They walked through the narrow streets, crowds parting for the island's lord. Kazuki kept the weapons close, very aware of how valuable they were. How vulnerable they made him.

  "These weapons," Tokitaka said quietly. "They will change Japan forever. I've seen what they can do. A single peasant with an arquebus can kill a samurai in full armor. From a distance. Without much skill. Without much training."

  "That's the point."

  "Is it? Do you understand what that means? The entire social order is built on the samurai's martial superiority. On skill taking many years to develop. These weapons will destroy that in minutes."

  Kazuki had thought about this extensively. In his previous life, he'd read countless analyses of how firearms transformed European warfare, how they ended the age-old era of knights. The same would happen here.

  "The social order is already collapsing," he said. "This age of war has proven that. Chaos reigns. These weapons just accelerate what's already happening."

  "Perhaps. But acceleration can also be dangerous. Things moving too fast tend to crash easily."

  They reached the inn. It was larger than Kazuki expected, two stories, built in a mixed Japanese-foreign style. The innkeeper bowed deeply to Tokitaka.

  "These are my guests," Tokitaka said. "Three rooms. They'll be here a week. Charge it to my account."

  "My lord, that's not necessary—" Kazuki began.

  "Consider it an investment. If you're going to revolutionize warfare, I'd prefer you remember who helped you at the beginning." Tokitaka smiled slightly. "Besides, I'm curious to see what you will do with those weapons. Whether you survive long enough to be able to use them."

  "You think I won't?"

  "I think you've made yourself extremely visible. Extremely vulnerable. Your enemies now know you have something valuable. They'll probably come for it."

  "Let them try."

  Tokitaka studied him. "You're either braver or more foolish than anyone I've ever met. I genuinely can't decide which."

  "Everyone keeps saying that."

  "Perhaps you should listen." But he was smiling. "Rest. Train. Learn. And young lord? Be very careful on your journey home. These waters are dangerous even for those who aren't carrying the future of warfare in their packs."

  He left before Kazuki could respond.

  Inside the inn, they were shown to adjacent rooms on the second floor. Simple but clean. Better than the boat, certainly.

  Kazuki set down his pack carefully. The arquebuses lay wrapped beside it. One thousand two hundred ryo of gamble.

  Honda appeared in the doorway. "Young master, we need to talk."

  "Come in."

  Honda entered, closing the door behind him. His expression was serious.

  "We just spent almost all our money on weapons we don't know how to use yet. We're staying in foreign territory for a week, giving your brother enough time to undermine you. And we're learning strange technology that will make us targets for every ambitious lord in Kyushu." He paused. "Tell me you have a proper plan beyond 'hope everything works out.'"

  "I have a plan."

  "Which is?"

  "We learn as much as we can in the next week. We absorb every piece of knowledge Mendez will give us. We figure out how these weapons work at a fundamental level. Then we return home and start producing them in masses."

  "Just like that?"

  "Just like that. We have the samples. We have instruction. We have skilled smiths like Muramasa. We can do this."

  "And your brother? Your father's anger when he discovers you left without permission?"

  "I'll deal with both of them when we get home. For now, we focus on the task at hand. Learn. Understand. Prepare."

  Honda was quiet for a moment. "You know what I admire about you, young master? Your complete inability to worry about more than one catastrophe at a time. It's either brilliant focus or spectacular tunnel vision. I can't tell which."

  "Me neither. But it's kept me alive so far."

  "So far being approximately one month."

  "Still counts."

  Honda smiled slightly. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we start learning to use weapons that will probably explode in our faces."

  "Optimistic as always."

  After Honda left, Kazuki sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wrapped weapons.

  He'd done it. Had traveled to Tanegashima, negotiated with Portuguese merchants, purchased firearms.

  In his previous life, this would have been impossible. A fantasy. The kind of thing that only happened in novels or games.

  Now it was real.

  He unwrapped one of the arquebuses carefully. The metal gleamed in the afternoon light. Heavy. Solid. Deadly.

  This will change everything.

  Takeshi's modern knowledge supplied context. In Europe, firearms had transformed warfare over the course of a century. Made castles obsolete. Ended the age of knights. Democratized violence, a peasant with a gun could kill a noble in plate armor.

  It would happen here too. Faster, probably. Japanese craftsmen were brilliant. They'd improve on these Portuguese designs within months.

  And Karatsu would be at the center of it.

  But only if I survive long enough to make it happen.

  These three guns were more than weapons. They were proof. Evidence that he'd actually traveled to Tanegashima. That he'd negotiated with foreigners. That he'd learned their secrets through legitimate means.

  When Muramasa asked "How do you know how to build these?", he could point to these samples. "I studied with the Portuguese. They taught me."

  Not "I'm a reincarnated 21st-century engineer who remembers how matchlocks work."

  The guns were his alibi. His cover story. His legitimacy.

  Everything else—the actual manufacturing, the improvements, the mass production—that would come from Takeshi's knowledge.

  But the world would think it came from these seven days in Tanegashima.

  Perfect.

  Kazuki carefully wrapped the weapon again. Tomorrow, the real work would begin. Learning not just to use these weapons, but to understand them fully. To be able to replicate them.

  To change the world with them.

  He lay back on the bed, exhausted from days of travel and the intensity of negotiation.

  Sleep came quickly.

  And with it, dreams of what came next.

  The future was no longer some distant possibility.

  It was here. In his hands. Ready to be shaped.

  And Matsudaira Kazuki would not waste this chance.

  Not again.

  Never again.