Chapter 55: And So, We Fight!!
CRASH!
An entire Cadillac was flipped over by Hanayama Kaoru, exposing its undercarriage like a cat showing its belly.
Sitting inside, the Yanagawa-gumi boss, Yamamoto, felt like he'd just been in a major car crash. Dizzy and disoriented, he struggled to crawl out the window.
The scene just now was too horrifying. Yamamoto almost thought he was hallucinating!
Could a mere nineteen-year-old boy really possess such national-treasure-level, inhuman arm strength?!
"Eee—?!"
Seeing Hanayama approaching, Yamamoto scrambled away in panic, running circles around the overturned Cadillac, desperate not to be caught.
Hanayama got annoyed by the chase. Veins popped on his forehead. He smashed a heavy fist onto the wheel hub and ripped the old tire right off.
He gripped the inside of the tire with both hands and pulled. With sheer brute force, he tore the old tire apart!
"He... he tore a tire apart with his bare hands..."
Yamamoto was terrified, his legs shaking so hard he couldn't even run.
Hanayama put a hand on the car's chassis and suddenly jumped—
SWISH!
Despite weighing over 160kg, Hanayama vaulted over the Cadillac as lightly as a gymnast, landing right in front of Yamamoto.
In his panic, Yamamoto tried to draw his katana.
But Hanayama grabbed the scabbard first. His terrifying grip strength crushed the scabbard, jamming the blade inside so Yamamoto couldn't draw it.
Yamamoto turned to run, but Hanayama reached out and grabbed him, a finger hooking into Yamamoto's eye socket.
Swish!
With a yank, Yamamoto was forced to turn around, face-to-face with Hanayama.
"This is war."
Looking at the terrified Yamamoto, who had wet himself, Hanayama spoke, seriously lecturing him.
"You got involved—you wanted my head. Then you should have been prepared for the same to happen to you. Otherwise, it's incomplete."
"Go back and train again."
Hanayama grabbed both of Yamamoto's ears and gently tore.
Riiip!
Arm strength that could tear a tire made tearing human skin effortless.
With a scream from Yamamoto, both his ears were gone, tossed casually onto the ground by Hanayama, soaking in a pool of blood.
...
...
Except for Hongo Hina and Shiraki Kei, who had expected this, everyone else stared wide-eyed at the brutal scene, sweating coldly.
"Gulp..."
Tenma Nozomi swallowed hard, forgetting her manners. "Flipping a car, tearing a tire, ripping off ears... is that guy even human? How did he train for that?!"
"...Heh heh!"
Hearing this, Kizaki chuckled, recounting the Hanayama Group's greatest pride.
"Our Boss—Hanayama Kaoru—is a 'Natural Born Strongman.' And he is clearly aware of this fact."
"Therefore, he never trains!"
Kizaki tilted his head back slightly, looking admiring.
"Being 'strong,' yet trying to improve oneself through training—in the Boss's eyes, that is 'improper'."
"He believes that having the natural gift of 'strength' and still training in secret is no different from a 'sneak attack'!"
"The Boss says it's cowardly and shameless. So he never trains."
"Never strive for 'strength,' and never seize the advantage from the weak—that is the aesthetic of survival known as 'Hanayama Kaoru'!"
At this point, Kizaki laughed and reminded Nozomi, "And that Shiraki-bro... he wants to fight a man like that!"
Tenma Nozomi: "...Haha."
Her laugh was forced. She wanted to tell Kei to run, but there was no chance.
Meanwhile, Kizaki made a call, telling the Hanayama underlings to come clean up.
He planned to interrogate the Yanagawa-gumi to find out who had put the bounty on Hanayama's head.
"Boss, everyone, let's go! The cops are coming!"
Kizaki checked the time and expertly herded everyone.
Nowadays, there was a tacit understanding between the police and the yakuza. As long as things didn't go too far, they'd save face for each other.
Since there had been a fight and people had called the cops, it was time for the MPD to clean up. The "perpetrators" shouldn't stick around.
...
...
Ten minutes later.
In a bar on the second floor of a building near the Hanayama Group office.
The Hanayama Group were regulars here, so the owner wasn't scared and quickly seated everyone.
Kei and Hanayama sat at a table alone.
The other six—Kizaki, Nozomi, Ichika, Hana, Yuzuha, and Hina—sat at a larger table nearby.
Nozomi sat next to Kizaki. As the main spokesperson for Valkyrie, she tried to negotiate with him again.
Kizaki teased, "Miss Tenma, yakuza have yakuza ways. Since you want it so badly, why not consider a 'One-on-One'? Winner takes all!"
Nozomi blinked. "What does 'One-on-One' mean?"
Hana quickly explained, "Simply put, each group sends a representative to fight one-on-one."
"Territory disputes, conflicts between punks, business disagreements—the struggle between two organizations is decided entirely by the outcome of the fight between these two representatives."
Hana looked bitter. "In short, it's a yakuza 'duel'..."
Hearing this, Nozomi felt a headache coming on.
This "One-on-One" rule was similar to the rumored "Kengan Matches." Both relied on representatives to decide victory.
The Hanayama Group's representative would obviously be Hanayama Kaoru himself.
But what about Valkyrie? They were a women's fighting group at best. They weren't qualified to face an old-school male violent group!
Seeing Nozomi sweating, Kizaki jokingly suggested, "Why not ask Shiraki-bro?"
Nozomi shook her head decisively, rubbing her temples. "After seeing Hanayama Kaoru fight, I don't have the face to shamelessly ask Shiraki-bro to do that..."
"Oh? Quite loyal!"
Kizaki appreciated this "new group" even more. He realized they weren't just profit-seeking merchants. Maybe they really could make it big; they just needed a chance.
Kizaki reminded her, "Maybe there's no need to overthink it."
"Hm?" Nozomi was exhausted, her eyes drooping, not understanding.
Kizaki recalled, "Our Boss said: It's just a 'fight.' It has no damn meaning."
"You can punch someone whenever you want, and the one getting punched has to be ready for it anytime."
"Emotions run high, anytime, anywhere. When you want to move, you move."
"—That is what a 'fight' is."
Kizaki drank his bottled juice, looking over at Hanayama and Kei. He said leisurely:
"Maybe to them, our discussion is all bullshit! Haha..."
...
...
Kei and Hanayama sat on opposite sides of a glass table.
Silence for now.
They each held a menu, ticking off the drinks they wanted, then handed them to the owner.
After a short wait, the owner brought the drinks.
"..."
Hanayama slowly reached out, pushing a bottle toward Kei. "This is 'Wild Turkey.' Bourbon made from corn. I like it. Try some."
Kei opened the bottle, poured a small glass, and drank. His face scrunched up from the burn.
"Hah—!"
He breathed out the alcohol fumes. "Too spicy. Hard to drink. It ruins the mood for throwing punches."
With that, Kei opened a bottle of cola and mixed it with the Wild Turkey. "This goes down smoother. Feels better."
"..."
Hanayama watched silently, his clear gaze saying nothing.
Kei held his glass, looking out the window, sighing leisurely. "Fighting... the more 'sudden' it is, the more interesting it is."
"In a dark place, a narrow place... the number of spectators doesn't matter..."
"The reason? Any reason will do."
"Like... I don't like your taste, and you hate my drink mixing. That's enough."
Kei gently set down his glass.
"Hanayama-bro... let's fight because of that..."
In that instant—in Kei's vision, Hanayama had already clenched his massive fist, drawn it back in an exaggerated stance, and swung it with full force at Kei.
?!
Kei was startled. He crossed his arms to block, jumping back to disperse the force.
But Hanayama's heavy punch plowed forward, smashing Kei flying backward into the glass table behind him.
CRASH!
The table shattered. Sharp glass sliced Kei's back, blood flowing instantly.