Magohachirou

Every morning, before the bamboo-lined streets of The Great Panda City fill with chatter, Magohachirou polishes their katana. It is the only item in their stall not for sale, a mirror-bright reminder of a life they abandoned. They once walked the same lonely roads as warriors like Yukimura, believing honor was found only at the edge of a blade. But an oath sworn over a dying friend—to build, not break—led them here. Their specialized eyewear, once used to spot ambushes in shadows, now finds the finest silk threads. Their smile holds the confidence of someone who has faced far worse than a bad bargain. The blade is no longer a weapon; it is a whetstone for their integrity. Each day, its polished surface reflects a merchant, not a killer.