Chapter 37: Alexandra Ivanovna Romanova
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 37: Alexandra Ivanovna Romanova
Wait, does that mean this is an event from the original story?
Something was off.
If she was supposed to appear at this point in the timeline, the protagonist, Sakamoto Ryuji, should have been in Akihabara.
From what I’d observed so far, the introductory parts of events from the original story seemed to happen no matter what.
But I was the one who met her first, and there was still no sign of the protagonist.
In that case, it was safe to assume this was sometime before her first appearance in the original story.
So, the main heroine from the original story is being chased by fellow Russians?
Honestly, I still didn’t have a proper grasp of the situation.
When I saw them earlier, their builds were all formidable; they looked like they’d had proper combat training.
Sasha probably wouldn’t last long on her own.
Not knowing the future, I couldn’t decide whether I should leave her be or protect her.
I was pondering this with a serious expression when Sasha, who had been watching me nervously, took out the bundle of cash I’d seen earlier from the handbag slung over her shoulder.
“I’ll hire you as my bodyguard. You just have to protect me until 7 PM tonight. I’ll even pay you upfront. What do you say? It’s a pretty good offer for a job that only takes about six hours, don’t you think?”
My heart began to pound at the sight of the cash suddenly placed before me.
Hold on.
Calm down. This is a trap.
She’s offering me, a complete stranger she just met today, a huge sum of money for a job like this?
Trying my best not to show how flustered I was, I asked Sasha in a calm voice.
“You’re going to hire me with this?”
Sasha narrowed her eyes, then pulled another bundle of cash from her handbag.
“Fine. So one million yen isn’t enough? Then if you succeed in protecting me until 7 PM, I’ll give you an additional one million yen. I can’t go any higher than that.”
I was trying to resolve this calmly through conversation, but the amount had instantly doubled.
My head was spinning.
With this… with this money, it wasn’t just about manga anymore. I could buy a rack, something I’d only dreamed of because it was so expensive.
This was enough money to build a home gym, one of every lifter’s dreams.
Without realizing it, my hand reached out and grabbed the bundles of cash on the table.
“I’ll do it.”
“Hehe, then we have a deal, right?”
What the hell, I just have to hold out for about six hours, right?
I shared a firm handshake with Sasha, who was smiling meaningfully.
*
Alexandra Ivanovna Romanova.
The Russian girl, usually called Sasha by those close to her, smiled triumphantly.
That was lucky.
She had come to Japan on the rare pretext of being an exchange student.
But her worrisome Papa and his subordinates were far too overprotective.
So, she had secretly withdrawn cash from her card and slipped out of her hotel in Shibuya.
However, her little escapade was about to come to an unceremonious end just an hour after her escape, thanks to the pursuit of bodyguards who were among the most skilled fighters in Russia.
It was then that she ran into the Korean man before her, Kim Yoo-Sung, in an alley.
This man… he’s strong.
Having grown up with her Papa, who was known as Russia’s God of Destruction, Sasha could roughly sense the strength of others.
And among all the underworld figures Sasha had met, this man, Kim Yoo-Sung, ranked in the upper-middle tier of strength.
A fighter of this caliber could buy her a good amount of time, even against Boris, the man her father had personally assigned to guard her.
To meet a fighter of this level in a foreign land so far from home while fleeing her bodyguards… she could only describe it as a stroke of heavenly luck.
“Two bowls of Tonkotsu ramen! Enjoy your meal!”
To taste the Japanese ramen that had finally arrived, Sasha split her chopsticks and calculated the remaining time.
Six more hours… that should be enough time to tour Akihabara, right?
If she went back after having a reasonable amount of fun, Papa probably wouldn’t get too upset.
And so, with that meticulous calculation, their time together began.
*
After we finished our ramen, we returned to Chuo-dori.
This was purely because of Sasha’s outfit; she had been wearing a black blouse and a long, frilly skirt, which was quite restrictive.
She ducked into a random clothing store, bought a pair of jeans and a baseball jumper, and came out of the fitting room moments later, having changed.
Since she was naturally beautiful, she seemed to look good in anything, like a model.
She asked a clerk to mail her original clothes to a hotel lobby, then pulled on a baseball cap and strode over to me.
“How’s this? Do I look more like a local now?”
“Honestly, you look more like a tourist than a local.”
Even if this was a manga world where all sorts of colorful hair existed, her silver hair, which was almost blue, was quite unique.
It was a color that screamed ‘plot device to make the heroine stand out.’
“Tch, you have high standards.”
Looking in a mirror, Sasha tied her long, waist-length hair into a ponytail and asked me.
“Is there anywhere worth visiting around here? This is my first time in Japan.”
“Didn’t you say you were on the run from kidnappers? I doubt you have time for leisurely sightseeing.”
“It’s better when there are a lot of eyes on us, right? No matter how reckless they are, they can’t act carelessly around civilians.”
I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I decided to go along with her for now.
If things went south, I just had to protect her.
“Then let’s get moving. If we stay in one place for too long, they’ll find us.”
“By the way, who are these people trying to kidnap you that you’re so on guard?”
Sasha, who was opening the shop door to leave, glanced back and answered.
“Elite former KGB agents.”
…KGB? What’s that? The only KGB I know is a lemon-flavored vodka.
*
I’ll be honest.
In 21st-century Tokyo, right in the bustling heart of the city, I never expected the kidnappers targeting Sasha to actually pick a fight so brazenly.
“You said they wouldn’t act carelessly with so many people watching!” I yelled urgently, dodging a fist that grazed past my head.
From inside a phone booth where she was holding out against men in black suits, Sasha shouted back.
“I didn’t think they’d be this reckless!”
“Dammit!”
I quickly kicked a burly man in front of me to push him back, then grabbed the scruffs of the guys trying to force open the phone booth and threw them.
“Keuk!”
Perhaps because their carotid arteries were momentarily compressed when I grabbed their collars, the foreign men passed out with pained groans.
But I had no time to worry about them. I had to keep swinging my fists at the other burly men rushing me.
They’re definitely on a different level from your neighborhood thugs.
A normal person would feel like they’d break with just a little force, but these men could take a hit.
It was probably because of their incredibly well-developed muscles, which were obvious even through their clothes.
But for them, this situation could only be described as being outmatched.
It might seem unfair from their perspective, but it’s a rule in romantic comedies that the one with the bigger muscles wins.
“Монстр!”
Despite fighting one-against-many in the same spot for nearly ten minutes, it was clear they were the ones being pushed back. One of the Russians surrounding me scowled and shouted.
I didn’t know what he was saying since it was Russian, but it was obviously nothing good.
Words that come out in situations like this are usually curses.
As the battle entered a lull and the burly men just eyed each other hesitantly, unable to attack, I counted the remaining number.
One, two, three, four…
Fighting frantically while surrounded by men in black suits, their numbers, which had been close to twenty, had dwindled to less than half.
At this rate, I think I can handle this.
Just as I thought that and clenched my fists, a deep, heavy voice came from behind the foreign men blocking our path.
“Все отступите.”
“Капитан Борис!”
He must have been their superior. They quickly stepped aside to the left and right, saluting with sharp, disciplined movements.
I considered myself pretty tall, but the foreign man, who was nearly two meters tall, strode forward and glared at me.
He’s strong.
I’d never met him before, but I could feel it instinctively.
The Russian man before me was a natural-born fighter.
The moment my eyes met his browless ones, vitality surged through my sufficiently warmed-up muscles from taking down the grunts.
It was as if my body was rejoicing.
At finally meeting an opponent worthy of a fight.
I had no idea how the situation had escalated to this point, but I was left with only one choice.
Fight.