7:00 PM.
The family-style dinner for Division 4 concluded. Aki Hayakawa finished first and went back to his room to catch up on sleep. Power continued her usual line of work—washing the dishes.
"Himeno-senpai, are you sure I shouldn't go with you?" Denji asked excitedly at the door.
"No need. Arai and I are enough to handle Kobeni's family matters. Denji, you and Arata should get some good rest. Makima gave you two days off, so don't forget to report back to the Public Safety Headquarters in two days."
"Got it, Himeno-senpai!"
Denji waved at the departing group, then closed the door and returned inside.
Arata was lying comfortably on the sofa, remarking, "Joining the Public Safety Devil Hunters was truly a wise choice."
"The pay is high, the vacation time is plenty, and the best part is that I still got my full salary for last month despite barely working."
"Speaking of which, I've never even seen my own paycheck," Denji noted.
"You don't have a salary card, so the money goes into Aki's account."
"Then Master, does your salary go to Aki too?"
"How could that be? I had mine separated from the beginning. Plus, I got a regular employee's salary in my first month, while you guys were unpaid recruits. And Power doesn't even get a salary at all."
"Ah? Why?"
"Don't ask. If you have to ask, it's because your strength isn't up to par yet."
"The Great Me doesn't care about some measly salary! The Great Me only cares about whoever can treat me to salmon—I'll grant them one wish!" Power declared.
"Is that for real?!!"
Denji's ears perked up instantly at the mention of salmon.
"Of course it's real! The Great Me keeps her word."
"Master, lend me some money. I'm going to buy a piece of salmon."
"Don't bother. You definitely wouldn't like Power's chest; it's not even one-fifth of Makima's."
"Master, how would you know that?"
"I know Makima like the back of my hand. There isn't anything I don't know."
"Tch, bragging again," Denji scoffed, not believing a word Arata said.
Arata actually had video proof, but he wouldn't let Denji see it just yet, lest the boy's worldview collapse entirely.
Arata stood up and shouted at Power, "Hurry up and wash those dishes! I'm taking you two somewhere in a bit."
"Where to?"
"You guys just finished training, and your energy levels must be through the roof. I'm taking you out to vent."
"Master, are you taking me to that kind of place?!" Denji was brimming with excitement.
"You're overthinking it. Tonight, I'm taking you to an Underground Black Fist Club."
"Underground Black Fist!!" Denji had heard of them, even if he'd never been. They were illegal underground boxing matches—no rules, high prize money, specifically designed for the wealthy to gamble and amuse themselves. Except for the prohibition of weapons, contestants could strike their opponents in any way they pleased.
"To let you stretch your limbs, I asked Noriyuki Natsume to get three tickets. The matches start at 8:00 PM; we can still make it if we leave now."
"Boxing!! The Great Me loves it! My fists have been starving for action!"
Power raised both fists high into the air. The dish she was holding flew straight toward the ceiling.
Crash!!
The bowl shattered against the ceiling like fireworks exploding around Power.
"That's why I told you to hurry up and wash your dishes."
"Why wash them? If I break them all, I don't have to wash them anymore!"
"If you break them, Aki will go absolutely insane when he wakes up tomorrow. Denji, go help her."
Men and women working together makes the work easier. The two hurriedly finished the dishes, then were driven by Arata to the Underground Boxing Club.
After twenty minutes of driving, the car entered an abandoned parking lot. It was empty and pitch-black, but as they continued inward, they saw many luxury cars parked around. A lighted elevator slowly appeared before them, with three men sitting around it. When they saw the car approaching, they all stood up to inspect it.
"We get off here." Arata parked his Mercedes in a random spot. "Power, put your hat on so no one realizes you're a fiend."
The three got out and walked toward the elevator.
"Master, who are we fighting later?"
"There are all sorts of people inside: retired boxing champions, former pro-boxers, thugs who have practiced boxing for years for the sake of survival, professional boxers looking for a side hustle, and so on. Tonight's winner gets a $100,000 prize and a chance to challenge the 'Black Fist King' Mayweather. If you beat him, you get $1 million and a share of the proceeds."
"$1 million isn't that much."
"$1 million is over 140 million Yen."
"That much?!!" (???)
Denji almost tripped and fell upon hearing the amount.
"How many pieces of salmon can 140 million Yen buy?" Power was still stuck on the salmon idea—after having it once at the gathering with Division 3, she couldn't get the taste out of her head.
"100 million is enough to buy you and Meowy a lifetime supply of salmon."
"That's amazing! This championship is mine! Even Denji can't stop me!" Power waved her fists and let out a shout.
"Hah, we'll see about that." Denji glanced at Power; neither believed the other could beat them.
The sound of their chatter caught the attention of the three bodyguards by the elevator. Flashlights quickly shone upon the three of them.
"Who are you?"
"We're contestants for tonight. Here are our tickets."
Arata used the tickets to block the light shining on his face. The bodyguard holding the flashlight leaned in to get a closer look: a young-looking boy, a woman of the same age, and only Arata who looked slightly older. Given their physiques, the guards just assumed they were spectators who had pulled some strings to get in.
"Let them in."
The bodyguard behind him spoke into a walkie-talkie in English.
The stationary elevator suddenly stirred. The inner carriage rose to the parking lot level and slowly opened. The three entered and descended to the third basement level.
As the elevator doors opened, a cacophony of chaotic noise instantly washed over them.
"Kill him!!"
"KILL HIM!!!"
"I bet 1,000 bucks on you, how could you lose?!"
"A loser on the ring deserves to be killed."
Arata led the two forward into a wide, circular hall divided into three tiers. The ground floor was the competition arena, with a familiar octagonal cage placed in the center. The second and third tiers were private rooms for the wealthy to observe the matches.
Inside the cage, the previous boxers had already finished their bout. Around the octagonal cage, over 50 men were shouting and cheering, and the number was constantly increasing as more people stepped out of the elevators and gathered around.
"The winner is the 'Tyrant' Senna!"
Inside the cage, the referee raised Senna's hand high. Around the cage, some were cheering, some were lamenting, some were cursing their luck, and some were itching for a fight.
"Who wants to challenge Senna? Just win 5 matches in a row, or if no one steps up, you get to challenge the 50-win streak champion Mayweather. The winner gets $1 million, and even lasting 10 minutes gets you $10,000!"
"Move aside! The Great Me is going up there to challenge you humans!" Power let out a shout.
Everyone's eyes fell on the three. Their expressions shifted from anticipation to utter disbelief.
"A woman?"
"Doesn't look very old?"
"Hey, keep an eye on your kid, or I'll beat you to death."
A man with a thick beard pointed at Arata and clamored, while others joined in the heckling. This place championed the aesthetics of violence; those without strength were collectively looked down upon, especially three skinny, young-looking newcomers.
"Hey, what are you guys here for?" The club's security manager soon noticed the abnormality, marching over with his bodyguards, looking aggressive.
"Nothing much tonight, just here to participate in the matches and take home that $1 million." Arata displayed his tickets.
"What are you doing bringing kids in here to participate?" the manager said, dissatisfied. Arata looked like a total stranger who had never been here before, and his physique didn't look like that of a boxer.
"Who are you calling a kid? I'm older than your grandmother!" Power shouted back at the manager.
The bodyguards behind the man were deeply offended by Power's rudeness and moved to strike, but the manager stopped them with a wave of his hands.
"Watch your kid, or I'll throw her out."
"They aren't kids, they're contestants."
"WHAT?!!"
"Two unweaned brats are here to box!"
"Did I hear that right?"
The men surrounding the octagonal cage began laughing thunderously, mocking them as they spoke. This was likely the funniest joke they had ever heard.
"I think you three aren't planning to live through the night, are you?"
The manager's expression turned vicious. He had never seen such arrogant young people before. He immediately ordered his men to throw them out.
Watching the bodyguards prepare to make their move, Arata took a step back, patted the shoulders of the two, and said, "Go easy on them. Just beat them half to death."
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