Chapter 52
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Summer Vacation Special Camp (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Gaaah! Big Bro Tetsu is dead!"
"You bastard!"
Carmen clenched and unclenched her fists as she scanned her surroundings. Half of the yakuza were dressed in suits, while the other half had stripped off their shirts or thrown on clothes haphazardly, exposing their tattoos. Then there was that lump of meat huddled over there and a shriveled lump of steel that looked like a deflated balloon doll.
Carmen stared at the steel lump for a moment, tilting her head, then moved her hand. The crumpled steel on the floor rose in response to her gesture, reshaping itself into a human form with a sharp creak.
"Huh?"
"Wh-what?"
The gathered yakuza stared at the steel in bewilderment. It resembled Tenkai Tetsu, hollowed out inside, standing there clad in a torn suit. One of the yakuza cautiously reached out and asked,
"B-big Bro Tetsu?"
Carmen murmured thoughtfully,
"Is this the feeling?"
The bloodstained steel figure struck a pose, then charged forward with a roar under Carmen's control. The yakuza at the front, knife in hand, couldn't comprehend the steel fist flying toward him and let out a final yelp.
"Huh?"
Boom!
With a deafening explosion, the yakuza slammed into the wall like a cannonball, while the others froze in place, unable to grasp the situation. The steel skin of the Carmen-controlled Tenkai Tetsu writhed like a living thing, then lashed out with kicks and punches in all directions like a fireworks display, sweeping through the area.
"Gwaaaah!"
"Kaaaah!"
"Aaaah!"
Yakuza flew into the air. In that moment, Carmen was both a steel manipulator and a telekinetic lifting people skyward. The ones shooting up like fireworks crashed mercilessly to the ground with wet thuds.
Carmen nodded with a sinister smile behind her mask.
Yeah, this had to be exactly the kind of thing Serika wanted.
"Gaaah!"
"Aaaah!"
"Gwaaaah!"
Screams of agony echoed from the backyard. Whatever was happening, I had no desire to witness it firsthand. Carmen had always handled brutal missions like this, so she was probably beating the crap out of the gang members in some savage way. Someone as delicate and girly as me shouldn't see that up close.
"P-please, spare me...! It hurts so much...!"
Around me, the yakuza I'd lightly touched were writhing on the floor, groaning. I kicked one begging for mercy into unconsciousness and surveyed the situation. This organization seemed pretty small-scale. Only five or six guys had come out to fight, and none of them were properly armed—not even with guns or blades.
On top of that, their fighting skills were abysmal. Even to an amateur like me, their movements looked sluggish and slow. A kick to the shin or a flick to the forehead had them passing out or foaming at the mouth, rolling on the ground. That said it all.
The main assault team was probably what Saburo had gone after, and these guys were just the thugs handling collections and intimidation with their scary faces.
"Man, you really screwed up big time. You picked the wrong organization to mess with. Do you even know who I am?"
As I finished clearing out the area with those complacent thoughts, another ability user appeared before me. He was shadowboxing in the air with a smirk, stepping like a boxer and acting cocky. I shook my head and replied,
"No idea. Who are you?"
"Name's Ishizawa. I'm a big deal around here. Anyone who's taken a hit from my fist is six feet under."
The man who called himself Ishizawa swung his fists through the air with whooshing sounds from his mouth. As he punched faster, a dull wind noise started emanating from his hand. Looking closely, his normal fist was gradually morphing into a blunt, round stone shape.
Brandishing his smooth stone fist—like a boxing glove or a wrecking ball—he boasted,
"Know what my nickname is?"
I nodded and said,
"Dora...mong."
"...You little shit."
Whether it hit a nerve or not, the man's face twisted in fury as he charged forward. He swung his full force at my face. The heavy-looking punch grazed past my nose surprisingly fast, and I instinctively stepped back before grabbing it with both hands.
"Wha—! You caught it?"
The fist was smooth like a statue in front of a bank, making it hard to grip, but the wrist was human. Plus, due to the weight distribution, retrieving it was oddly slow compared to the swing, making it easy to snatch.
Once I had a firm hold on the wrist, it was like the stone ball acted as a brace, locking my hands in place.
Not letting go, the man panicked and tried to pull back, but when his hand wouldn't budge, his eyes went wide.
"Wh-what the fuck... You're an ability user? Think I'll go easy just 'cause you're one? Let go!"
As he shouted, he swung his other fist at me. The round stone smashed into my forearm.
A dull pain shot through me, and I winced, yelling,
"Ow!"
"...Ow?"
The man tilted his head in disbelief, mimicking my groan. I swung my fist at his face and shouted,
"That hurts!"
"Whoa!"
He dodged my punch with a laugh, pulling back.
"H-hey!"
But as he retreated from my swing, my momentum carried me forward, throwing off my balance. My outstretched fist missed his face and headed straight for his solar plexus. Losing my footing, I slammed into him chest-first, driving my fist hard into the center of his torso.
"H-huh?"
The panicked man froze. The solid impact on his solar plexus felt like hitting a baseball, and his body launched backward.
"Gwaaaah!"
He screamed as he skidded down the hallway, limbs twitching as he gasped for air before rolling his eyes back and collapsing. The floor bore a long black scorch mark from the skid, dust rising to highlight the building's poor maintenance.
"Hah...! Hngh...!"
He was still breathing faintly, so he wasn't dead.
I dusted off my hands and glanced at the elevator.
It was already blocked—no lights on. Next to it, the stairs were clogged with junk. Peeking over the stair railing, someone on the second floor yelled,
"Don't you dare come up! You hear? When our bosses get here, you're all dead meat! Stay down there! Don't come up!"
Yeah, that looked like a hassle.
The guy waving a blade over the railing didn't seem inclined to back off, and he probably wouldn't believe the assault team was wiped out anyway.
He was whining like a brat, but when I tried clearing the junk on the stairs, it was a tangled mess of wooden drawers, desks, and chairs—tough to move. Even if I cleared it and went up, they'd just rain blows from above. Not a great plan.
No matter how tough I am, getting slashed hurts. Cuts would bleed, and bleeding doesn't heal with brute strength.
After pondering, I eyed the tall desk in front of me.
Then looked up at the ceiling.
Come to think of it...
Why bother struggling with the stairs when I'm super strong?
Masao thought he was pretty clever. By tying a kitchen knife to a long pole to make a spear and barricading the stairs with junk, no one could come up. At least it neutralized any weaklings trying the stairs outright, and it would buy time until the assault team returned.
The presence he'd sensed from below earlier had gone quiet, probably searching for another route, so Masao figured his plan was a resounding success.
Until the knocking started from the floor.
Knock knock knock
"Hm?"
Masao looked down at his feet.
It felt like someone knocking on a bathroom door—light and casual.
As he tilted his head, wondering if he'd imagined it,
Bam! Bam! Bam!
This time, the floor shook with massive thuds.
"What the hell!"
Masao panicked and stomped down, but then—
Crack!
The floor split open, and two hands shot out, grabbing his ankles.
"Gyaaah!"
Masao yelped in shock, dropping his weapon, and was dragged down to the first floor. His screams cut off as Serika climbed up to the second floor.
Serika glanced at the sprawled Masao and nodded proudly.
"See? I'm smart after all. This is why you gotta use your head."