Outside the underground arena, the cool night air brought a slight relief.
Shima walked Ryouichi to his parked luxury car, opening the door for him with a respectful bow.
Ryouichi paused before getting in, his calm, piercing gaze resting on Shima.
“I heard a rumor,” Ryouichi said, his tone perfectly flat.
“Masaki’s faction intercepted and seized millions of yen worth of Hayashi’s product. Keep your guard up. Things are going to get volatile.”
Shima nodded firmly.
“Understood, sir. I will ensure our defenses are tightened. By the way… your son hasn’t been around for two days.”
“He went to negotiate directly with the gangs,” Ryouichi replied casually.
“I see. Safe travels, sir.”
Ryouichi slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition.
The low, powerful hum of the engine vibrated through the quiet cabin.
The streets were eerily empty.
As he drove, the harsh glow of the streetlights briefly reflected off the sleek chrome edges of his car, cutting through the darkness.
But mere seconds later—
CRACK!
A harsh, metallic explosion ruptured the silence.
The front right tire burst violently.
The steering wheel jerked with terrifying force, and the car instantly skidded completely out of control.
SCREEECH—THUD!
The heavy vehicle slammed brutally into a concrete barrier.
The hood crumpled inward, and thick, hissing smoke immediately began to billow into the morning air.
Silence.
Nothing but the dying, pathetic *whirr* of the ruined engine and the sound of Ryouichi’s slow, controlled breathing.
After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes.
Through the spiderweb cracks of the shattered windshield, dark silhouettes emerged from the alleyways.
Ten…
maybe twelve of them.
They carried baseball bats, heavy hockey sticks, and long, rusted steel chains that clinked ominously as they dragged against the asphalt.
Every single pair of eyes was locked onto the smoking car.
Ryouichi pushed the crumpled door open and stepped out onto the street.
He didn’t look at the gang immediately.
Instead, he looked up at the blue, starless sky and let out a long, heavy sigh.
“Tch… even at this age, I still have to deal with brats like you?”
He slowly lowered his gaze to the armed thugs, casually rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.
The sharp pop of his joints echoed loudly in the quiet street.
“So,” Ryouichi said, his voice carrying the icy weight of absolute authority.
“Are you coming at me one by one… or all at once? The choice is yours.”
A heavily pierced thug stepped out from the center of the pack, resting a metal bat on his shoulder.
He let out a mocking, arrogant laugh.
“What’s wrong, grandpa? Past your bedtime? Let’s put you to sleep right now.”
A chilling, predatory smile crept across Ryouichi’s weathered face.
“Heh… try it.”
The next moment was a blur of violence.
The thug lunged, swinging the heavy metal bat in a full, lethal arc aimed directly at Ryouichi’s skull.
SWISH!
Ryouichi merely tilted his head.
The steel bat sheared through the empty space mere millimeters from his cheek, the wind of the swing ruffling his hair.
In one flawless, fluid motion, Ryouichi’s hand shot out like a viper, clamping down on the attacker’s wrist.
His grip was monstrous.
A sickening crack of bone was heard.
“Aghhh!!” the boy shrieked in agony.
His fingers lost all strength, and the metal bat clattered uselessly to the ground.
But Ryouichi didn’t let go.
Using the boy’s own momentum, he violently yanked him forward, grabbing him by the back of the neck.
With a terrifying surge of rotational torque, Ryouichi hurled the thug’s entire body over his shoulder.
The body crashed brutally onto the concrete, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The boy’s wrist was bent at a gruesome, unnatural angle.
He didn’t get back up.
The rest of the gang froze in sheer terror.
But desperation quickly overtook their fear, and with a unified roar, they all charged at once.
A heavy steel chain whipped through the air, aimed at his collarbone.
Simultaneously, a hockey stick swung in a low, bone-breaking arc toward his knees.
Ryouichi didn’t even blink.
He smoothly slipped into the millimeter of space between the two attacks, closing the distance instantly.
He drove a short, brutal punch directly into the first attacker’s ribs.
WHAM!
The impact was like a cannonball.
The man was launched backward off his feet, a spatter of blood flying from his mouth before he even hit the ground.
Instantly, another attacker leaped onto Ryouichi’s back from the blind spot.
Ryouichi simply pivoted his hips, spinning his torso and driving a devastating backward elbow thrust.
CRACK!
The elbow connected perfectly with the boy’s jawline.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he crumpled to the asphalt, instantly unconscious.
The entire fight didn’t even last a full minute.
Now, there were only the echoes of brutal impacts, the groans of broken men, and the chilling silence of the night.
Ryouichi stood amidst the unconscious bodies, his breathing entirely steady.
But as he raised his hands to look at them…
His fingers were trembling.
A few drops of blood stained his knuckles, but the shaking was internal.
A sudden, violent wave of dizziness hit him.
His vision began to heavily blur.
The edges of the world turned black.
He staggered a half-step forward…
and then completely collapsed into the darkness.
(Blackout)
Meanwhile — The Vibrant Streets of Vietnam
The afternoon sun beat down warmly on the bustling streets.
Masaki, Souta, and Raiga were strolling down a lively footpath, taking in the sights and sounds of the city.
Raiga looked completely in his element, happily munching on skewers of steaming local dumplings.
Souta, however, had his hands buried in his pockets, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on the pavement.
“I wonder what Ren is doing right now…” he murmured.
“I just hope Sayu isn’t tormenting him too much.”
Hearing her name, Raiga actually paused his eating and visibly shivered.
“I would rather die than take training from that witch,” Raiga muttered, genuine fear in his eyes.
Masaki chuckled softly, reaching over to pat Raiga firmly on the shoulder.
“Come on. Sayu isn’t that bad.”
Tokyo — 5:00 AM
The sky outside was still pitch black.
The world was completely silent.
DING-DONG!
The sharp, jarring ring of the doorbell echoed through Ren’s quiet apartment.
In his bedroom, Ren groaned loudly.
He rolled over, sitting up on the edge of his bed with a massive, groggy yawn.
He rubbed his messy hair.
“Who in the world is here at this hour?” he whispered to himself.
“Could it be Masaki…?”
He dragged his feet through the hallway and unlocked the front door, pulling it open.
Standing right there, dressed in a bright, athletic tracksuit and sporting an overwhelmingly cheerful smile, was Sayu.
Ren stared at her, his brain still struggling to boot up.
“You…”
“Yep! Who else?” Sayu chirped brightly.
“Why… are you here?” Ren asked, his voice thick with sleep. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“I came to give you your training! Yay~!”
She flashed him an enthusiastic, energetic thumbs-up.
Ren’s expression instantly dropped into utter, deadpan disappointment.
“I don’t need any training.”
Without another word, he moved to slam the door shut in her face.
But Sayu instantly grabbed the edge of the door.
“How can you say that?! We’re going jogging right now!”
A desperate tug-of-war over the heavy wooden door immediately commenced.
“You’re coming!”
“Absolutely not!”
“Let’s go!”
“No!”
“I said, come on!”
“No… no!”
*’He’s really not going to give up like this,’* Sayu thought to herself.
*’Time for a different tactic.’*
“Okay, fine!” she announced loudly.
She abruptly let go of the door.
Ren, who had been pulling backward with all his body weight, instantly lost his balance.
He went flying backward, crashing painfully onto the hard hallway floor.
“Argh! That hurt!” Ren groaned, rubbing his back.
“It’s your fault!”
Sayu casually dropped to her knees beside him, her bright smile returning in full force.
“How about this? Let’s play Rock-Paper-Scissors.”
“If you win, I’ll cut one whole day out of the training routine I made for you.”
“Do we have a deal?”
Ren stopped rubbing his back.
A competitive smirk slowly formed on his lips.
“Yeah, why not? That’s a good deal.”
They both scrambled to their feet, standing face-to-face in the narrow hallway.
The tension was palpable.
“Ready?” Ren asked, his eyes narrowing with hyper-focus.
Sayu looked at his intense expression.
‘He is so incredibly innocent,’ she thought, her smile widening.
“Absolutely.”
They chanted the sacred ritual in perfect unison, their fists bouncing on every syllable.
“Rock! Paper! Scissors!”
They threw their hands forward.
The results were locked in.
Ren had confidently thrown Rock.
Sayu had thrown Paper.
Ren stared down at his defeated fist, his face completely devoid of all emotion.
Sayu clapped her hands together, beaming brightly.
“Um… looks like I win! Alright then, let’s start today’s warm-up with a light 10-kilometer run!”
Hearing those words, Ren felt his very soul begin to violently tremble.
—Chapter 22 End—
We’re getting complete to 1,000 total views on Royal Road, and I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has given Ren Fujimiya a chance.
Whether you’ve read one chapter or stayed with the story until now, your time and support truly mean a lot to me.
Every view reminds me that someone chose to step into this world I created.
This journey is only beginning.
There are many more characters to meet, mysteries to uncover, and underworld conflicts waiting ahead.
I hope you’ll continue walking this journey with Ren, Yeamori, Masaki, and the rest of the cast.
Thank you for believing in my story.
I’ll continue giving it my best and do everything I can to bring this journey to its proper conclusion.
See you in the next chapters!