Idle Tycoon System
Chapter 71: Heading to a Dojo

Chapter 71: Heading to a Dojo

Despite his wealth, Noah’s destination wasn’t a real estate office.

His five-figure balance, while impressive by his previous standards, wouldn’t comfortably cover a quality house purchase in the city.

He could manage the mortgage route, with a twenty percent down on a $500,000 property somewhere decent.

But the thought of interest rates made his stomach clench with remembered anxiety.

I’ve had enough with interest rates. I don’t want to go down that path again, even if I could easily handle the payments now, without worrying about being broke again.

He would rather pay in full when the time came. Cash purchase, no complications, no monthly reminders of financial obligations.

A smile spread across his face as he considered his actual destination.

Twenty minutes from his apartment, in a part of the city that balanced accessibility with authenticity.

...

Noah stood before a large training facility whose exterior radiated some kind of aura.

The wooden sign above the entrance had been carved with care, each character precise and bold.

Musashi’s Dōjō

The name alone gives the building respect. Legacy built through generations of martial excellence. The dojo of the strongest swordsman in history...Miyamoto Musashi

Noah had decided to test his swordsmanship skills against real professionals rather than continuing to train exclusively alone.

He no longer had Vaelria’s guidance due to his shop moving.

His level 4 proficiency meant he’d surpassed most modern practitioners, but ’most’ wasn’t ’all’.

Time to see where I actually stand.

The interior smelled surprisingly nice, it didn’t have the smell of sweat from the intensity of serious physical training.

Students moved through stances with concentrated expressions, while instructors observed with critical eyes that missed nothing.

An older Japanese man approached Noah with the stride of someone whose every movement had been refined through decades of practice.

His white hair was pulled back in a traditional style, and his dark eyes assessed Noah.

"Can I help you?"

"I’m interested in training here. What are your rates?"

The master studied Noah’s posture, the way he held himself.

It was subtle indicators that spoke more than words, after all, body language accounted for fifty-five percent of communication.

"I need to see your skill first."

Fair enough. No point discussing payment if I don’t meet their standards.

The master gestured toward a weapons rack lined with wooden practice swords.

Noah selected one without worry. He had been practising swordsmanship under Valeria’s guidance with wooden swords.

The weight distribution feels different from what I’m used to. I need to adjust to it.

"Show me basic forms," the master commanded.

Noah settled into his stance, feeling the familiar flow of muscle memory guiding his movements.

High strike, middle strike, low strike.

The foundation sequences Valeria had drilled into him until they became involuntary responses.

The dōjō fell silent.

Other students stopped their practice, attention drawn by something they couldn’t immediately identify.

Noah moved through the forms with ease.

The way he moved told everbody in the dojo of the hours of dedicated training spent, the transition between forms was seamless and elegant.

Something’s changed. The way they’re looking at me...

"Again," the master said quietly.

"I want you to do some complex combinations."

Noah nodded before he started the advanced sequences, incorporating footwork and timing that pushed beyond basic competency with the sword, into actual martial skill.

His movements carried the confidence of someone who’d trained against opponents trying to kill him rather than merely score points.

I must say...Alissa’s talent provided me excellent motivation for rapid improvement.

The wooden sword cut through air with precise timing, each strike carrying enough force to disable without telegraphing intention.

Defense flowed into attack, retreat became counteroffensive positioning.

"Enough."

The master’s voice carried a note Noah hadn’t expected, respect mixed with genuine surprise.

"How long have you been training?"

"A few weeks."

The silence that followed was beyond a mere pause.

Other students exchanged glances that spoke to shared disbelief, while the master’s expression shifted through several stages of reassessment.

"A few weeks," he repeated slowly.

"Yes sir."

No point hiding my progression. Why would I? I don’t want to act like a sheep when I’m becoming a lion.

The master approached, circling Noah with the attention of someone examining a puzzle that defied conventional explanation.

His eyes tracked minute details—stance stability, weapon control, the unconscious confidence that came from real combat experience.

"Your foundation is solid," he said finally.

"But your advancement..."

He shook his head with something approaching wonder.

"This represents years of intensive training, not weeks."

"I’ve had excellent instruction," Noah replied carefully.

"Show me your sparring capability."

The master selected his own practice weapon from the racks.

"This will be light contact. It’s a controlled

demonstration."

This should be interesting.

They faced each other across the training mat, and Noah immediately recognized the skill of the old man.

The master’s stance spoke to decades of refinement, subtle positioning that maximized both offensive and defensive options.

He’s not just skilled..he’s experienced.

The engagement began with testing strikes, each combatant evaluating their opponent’s responses and capabilities.

Noah found himself pushed beyond his comfort zone, forced to adapt and respond to techniques his previous training hadn’t covered.

This is what real martial arts looks like.

But his progression showed. Where technique failed, his instinct filled gaps.

His body was getting better at performing the skills by the minute.

The sparring match concluded with both fighters acknowledging mutual respect through traditional bows.

"Free of charge," the master announced.

The dōjō erupted in whispered conversations as students processed what they’d witnessed.

A complete beginner demonstrating skills that challenged their understanding of normal learning progression.

"I don’t accept payment from students who teach me something new," the master continued.

"Your development defies conventional wisdom, and I’m curious to see where it leads."

Free training from a legitimate martial arts master. Some investments pay dividends in ways you never expect.

Noah accepted the offer with appropriate gratitude, already anticipating how much he would improve and how many levels he would be able to gain before the dojo would no longer be a viable option of learning.

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