After Masamichi goes over his morning rounds to look over the ballista and making sure they are undisturbed, he leans on the rail, whittling away on a piece of wood that may some time soon be a replacement part for one of the ballista. He poders what would be the filthy gaijin town before him if it was not gratfully masked by the mist. Clearly he had pleased some kami or Fortune for such a mercy.