Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ultraman Is Not a God

Inside the Dual Sword Dojo, Yue Longze and Miyamoto Tetsuo exchanged their insights on swordsmanship. Miyamoto, a seasoned swordsman, had offered Yue Longze many revelations, while Yue Longze’s own imaginative ideas shocked Miyamoto, causing him to look at Yue Longze in a new light. Though Miyamoto wielded twin swords and Yue Longze used a single-handed blade, at the core, the principles of swordsmanship were fundamentally connected.

Though Jinglong’s teachings were deeply etched in Yue Longze’s mind, the insights of every formidable swordsman were unique. The two leaned against the dojo wall, engrossed in lively conversation.

After a long discussion, Yue Longze took Taiyo’s small hand, said goodbye to Miyamoto Tetsuo, and strode away. On the road, pedestrians hurried by, vehicles streamed past. Yue Longze kept reminiscing about his duel with Miyamoto Tetsuo, dissecting each move and technique in his mind, feeling ever more his own shortcomings and the strength of the dual sword style—or rather, Miyamoto’s prowess.

“Mr. Longze, are we heading to my family’s dojo now?” Taiyo looked up, her little face tilted toward Yue Longze, who towered over her.

Yue Longze paused, his thoughts pulled away from the earlier duel. “Next time. I’ve been out too long; I need to hurry home or Grandma will worry.”

In this world, Grandma’s home was Yue Longze’s only haven. That elderly woman had given him warmth like family. Truthfully, Yue Longze had even prepared himself to stay here forever—after all, he didn’t possess the ability to travel freely through time and space, like Zero Ultraman.

“Zero, oh Zero, could you come pick up your old friend?” Yue Longze silently prayed that Zero might somehow find him in this timeline, though the possibility was almost nonexistent.

Then again, perhaps his disappearance hadn’t even been noticed by Zero or the others, since he’d told Zero and Zoffy that he’d be training in the universe until Joda was fully revived.

If he wanted to traverse time and space, the best method was to rely on himself. With every increment of power, the hope of breaking through spatial barriers and crossing timelines increased.

“When will we meet again, Mr. Longze?” Taiyo’s voice was tinged with disappointment, her gaze filled with reluctance. Children’s hearts are the purest. Though they’d only spent a morning together, Taiyo could clearly sense Yue Longze’s sincerity.

“Barring any surprises, we’ll see each other plenty!” Yue Longze smiled.

“Mr. Longze, you must come find me at my family’s Single Sword Dojo!” Taiyo’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

After reminding Taiyo several times to be careful on her way home, Yue Longze walked off alone, sword in hand. Taiyo watched Yue Longze’s figure gradually vanish into the crowd, blinking her eyes. For some reason, she felt that behind that slightly frail silhouette lay a deep loneliness.

Making his way through the bustling masses, Yue Longze returned to Grandma’s house. Lunch was already ready, the aroma of curry rice drifting warmly to his nose.

“Wow, Grandma, is it curry rice?” Yue Longze’s nose was as keen as a hound’s.

On that rainy night when he first arrived at Grandma’s, cold winds biting at his face, it was Grandma who, trembling, brought him a steaming plate of curry rice.

“Longze, next time come home earlier,” Grandma said kindly, her gentle, aged laughter warming Yue Longze’s heart, giving his loneliness something to lean on.

Yue Longze helped clear the table, moving bottles and jars aside to prepare for the meal. At the small wooden table, one old and one young sat together, the atmosphere cozy and cheerful.

“Grandma, I can’t keep eating and drinking for free like this. I’ve decided—I’ll find a job as soon as I can!” Yue Longze said, shoveling rice into his mouth with wolfish appetite.

“What are you saying? Grandma’s house is your home. You and Redel are both good children,” Grandma replied, her kindly wrinkled face showing a hint of longing for Redel, who had returned to his hometown.

After lunch, Yue Longze helped tidy the dishes. He dressed, preening in front of the mirror, applying hair wax and carefully combing his hair into a classic side part.

Compared to the playful three-to-seven part, Yue Longze preferred the mature, steady two-to-eight style. Before leaving, he checked his reflection several times, making sure his hair was flawless.

The prospect of job hunting had left a shadow in Yue Longze’s mind. When he first traveled to the original Tiga timeline, he’d searched all afternoon and found nothing. Now, in this Tiga universe, he felt he might repeat that experience.

Not for any other reason, but because he was—an undocumented resident.

In the previous Tiga timeline, he was undocumented too, only getting his identity settled after joining the Victory Team. But in this Tiga timeline, in this age of data, even as an Ultraman, he couldn’t resolve his identity issues with just his abilities.

Grandma had already settled into her habitual afternoon nap, so Yue Longze slipped out without disturbing her, only glancing quietly at the sleeping old woman, her gentle snores filling the room.

“Sigh! Wish me luck!” Yue Longze sighed. He quickly pulled on his boots, which had accompanied him across many worlds, and stepped out to begin his arduous job search.

A cold wind blew, making Yue Longze shiver. “Looks like winter is coming to Japan…”

He looked at his thin clothes, purchased in Xiaoxiang’s timeline, and realized they were little protection against the approaching cold.

TPC South Pacific Headquarters.

“The mysterious black Ultraman who appeared recently—we’ve conducted a preliminary investigation and determined that this individual is closely connected to the black Ultraman.”

On the silver screen, a dividing line split the display into left and right panels. On the left was a profile photo of Yue Longze, obviously not taken by conventional means; on the right, a shot of the black Tiga, as transformed by Yue Longze, battling the third generation of the Kirielodians.

Captain Jujian’s expression was grave. After a pause, she continued, “These are images captured by surveillance satellites. After analysis, it’s highly likely this young man is—the black Ultraman!” Her tone was weighty, emphasizing those words.

The Victory Team exclaimed in shock; Daigo’s brow was knitted tight.

“That eccentric young guy is actually Tiga’s son?” Kuboi’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He still believed the black Ultraman was Tiga’s offspring…

Every time Daigo heard Kuboi say that, his face would turn awkward—after all, that was his predecessor! But to avoid revealing his own identity as an Ultraman, Daigo never corrected Kuboi’s “skewed father-son theory.”

What made Daigo even more speechless was that Rina, Shinjou, and Munakata’s opinions were influenced by Kuboi, and to this day, they stubbornly accepted the “father-son theory.”

Captain Jujian brushed a lock of hair behind her neck, motioned for quiet, and continued, “I always believed Ultraman was a savior sent by God to guide humanity onto the right path. But if this young man truly is the black Ultraman, then Ultraman is nothing more than an ordinary human!”

Her voice was somewhat agitated, her slender, pale hands clenched tightly. Everyone understood the meaning behind her words and fell silent, their eyes complicated, lost in their own thoughts.

Indeed, nowadays people believe Ultraman is the savior, a god who will lead them out of adversity. As long as they follow Ultraman’s guidance, the world will eventually emerge from darkness and welcome the dawn.

Yet the investigation into the black Ultraman was like an invisible sword, mercilessly piercing their illusory hopes.