Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Salvation (1)
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"Th-that bastard's a total monster! Ugh...!"
Daisuke staggered to his feet, drenched in cold sweat, his broken hand bones protruding grotesquely from the back of his hand.
"Huff... huff... Ah... Fucking... hell..."
Kyosuke, his face still pallid, barely managed to prop himself up against the wall, spitting curses through gritted teeth. It was a miracle he hadn't passed out after taking that gut punch.
"Kyosuke, doesn't it feel like your ribs are cracked too? Come on... let's grab a taxi or walk if we have to and get to the hospital first. If we don't, you're gonna fuck up your body for good! You'll end up crippled!!"
These punks who swung fists without a second thought at others or even animals flipped their attitudes completely the moment one of their own bones snapped.
"..."
"What the hell was that psycho? Did he come from Korea after being some pro fighter or something?"
Shattering a swinging bat with his bare fist, landing a rib-cracking punch at speeds too fast to follow, perfectly countering a face-bound haymaker with a pinpoint elbow block... To Daisuke, Yu Sanghyeon's physical prowess was anything but ordinary.
"Maybe. But that's all over now. That lunatic bastard charged into Nishikiyo all by himself."
FFFC2 wasn't run by small-time thugs like them—it was a proper yakuza operation. And Nishikiyo was their offline branch, directly managed by the yakuza themselves.
Storming in alone against dozens of violent gangsters swarming the place was suicide.
"...You think so?"
But Daisuke just shivered, gripped by a bad feeling.
"That guy's different. Seriously weird. I've seen plenty of guys who could throw down, but he's... fundamentally off. Those weren't human eyes!"
Kyosuke shot Daisuke an incredulous look.
"Dude, didn't you see Nishikiyo last time? That's full yakuza turf. Dozens of bosses packing heat and bats— no amount of martial arts training beats that. What? Eyes? You're talking nonsense."
Sensible words, yet Daisuke couldn't agree. It was clearly the influence of Yu Sanghyeon's killing glare, which treated them like less than human. His primal survival instinct had kicked in, screaming that getting tangled with him again wouldn't end with just a broken hand.
"Damn it... damn it! Anyway, I'm done. No more of this shit!"
"Hey! What're you saying? Didn't Kurogami-senpai tell us to bring a girl for the illegal vids? If we don't deliver by tomorrow, we're both toast. That guy's probably mincemeat from knife wounds by now. We just gotta do what senpai—"
"I don't know, I said! Hanging with you got my hand wrecked like this! You're on your own!"
And with that, their shallow bromance ended. Daisuke clutched his mangled fist and bolted for the ER.
"Idiot... You think Kurogami-senpai's gonna let you walk? After you know her face and Nishikiyo's location? With your address and bank info handed over... Tsk tsk."
Kyosuke muttered to Daisuke's retreating back, sweating bullets, but the guy didn't turn around.
Kyosuke peeled his hand from his throbbing ribs and ruffled his grimy blond hair. Luckily, no breaks—seemed that way from the motion.
It was only natural, really. If Yu Sanghyeon had thrown a full-power punch with real intent, Kyosuke would've died from a ruptured spleen by now.
"Haa... goddamn it... Nothing's gone right since that psycho showed up..."
Spitting phlegm on the ground, Kyosuke pulled out a cigarette. For a habitual brawler, keeping up appearances even with busted ribs was impressive in its own way.
But then, he spotted someone.
Long straight hair fluttering naturally in the breeze. A cute bunny hair clip that didn't match her icy demeanor.
It was Ren.
"That bitch... Come to think of it, she seemed chummy with that guy. Already spreading her legs for that barbarian from some backwater country?"
She'd never given him the time of day no matter how hard he pushed, but not even a week after the Korean transfer student arrived, they were thick as thieves.
For a guy who'd bedded every girl he'd wanted, it was an ego-shattering blow. Especially after getting his ass kicked and groveling like a dog to that man.
The twisted rage bubbling inside him naturally projected onto Ren, who was weaker than him.
"Ahh—yeah, that's right. Tsumetai lives in the dorms, right? Perfect."
Kyosuke recalled Kurogami's order to snag a girl for the illegal videos.
"Hang on... If I'm grabbing her anyway... Might as well get a piece before anyone else does. No harm in that."
Grinning chillingly at the thought of crushing that haughty Ren beneath him, the guy started closing in on her from behind.
"Alright, time to film~ Spread that pretty pussy nice—"
The moment I reached for my smartphone to record Kurogami's piss-soaked crotch,
A roar of engines erupted from outside.
-VRROOOOM!
Damn it.
Looked like that bitch had called for backup earlier. Already here?
Considering my current condition, tangling with reinforcements was out of the question.
No Dragon Heart, no Hero's Growth, no Heavenly Demon Heart Technique for me. Just a visual novel protagonist with decent physical specs.
"Tch."
Should be fine, though.
"Hnggh... hngggh..."
Trembling,
Kurogami lay spread-eagled on the floor, legs splayed vulgarly, exposing her pussy.
I'm inevitably tied to this piss-pants bitch from here on out.
Call it gamer's intuition from consuming piles of visual novels and subculture content.
This look of hers. Those overwhelming tits, that tight pink slit.
No way she's disposable cannon fodder.
In subculture, a female character's combat power scales with her bust size.
And crucially, she's a student at our school.
If my plan works, I can butter up the Academy Director and track her down anytime.
I'll take my time devouring you later, bitch.
Clunk!
I yanked the server storage drive from Kurogami's desk and stuffed it into my bag.
When I bail, I bail—but I need their lifeline weakness secured.
No matter how tough the yakuza, this evidence leaves them powerless.
Beneath the drive sat what looked like a notepad.
[Customer List]
Well, well? The ledger?
Classic analog-loving Japanese.
"Kya~ Jackpot."
Flipping the first page, even I—who ignored Japanese news—recognized famous names.
Mostly sleazy politicians.
So that's how the Kurogami family dodged police raids to upload this insane crap?
You're all royally screwed now.
-"Get out! Move your asses, you idiots!"
Shouts and car doors slamming outside the window.
Kurogami's office was on the building's exterior, so if I bolted out the entrance now, I could escape before they circled around.
"Whew... I'll be back. Clean up that pussy and wait, bitch."
I hurried off.
Thankfully, they were too stunned by the office's absurd state to mount a pursuit.
Still, better put distance fast. Gotta meet the Academy Director tonight too.
"Huff... huff..."
Every step sent electric jolts from the knife slashes on my back and broken bones, but it kept my mind sharp amid the haze.
What time is it now?
Wanted to check my phone, but one arm's busted, the other's clutching the ledger and drive—no way to fish it out.
Gotta reach her before she clocks out.
Why the rush to see her? Simple.
Yumekoi Academy's director, Saionji Mesui, wasn't just any woman.
Sure, climbing to director as a 30-something was legendary enough, but her true nature ran deeper.
The cliché of a love comedy's improbably young, hot school director being a 『mysterious powerhouse』 is ancient.
Private helicopters, politicians kissing her ring—you name it.
Hand her this drive and ledger...
No matter how mighty the Kurogami yakuza clan, they'd crumble in one fell swoop.
And that bullshit sex offender frame job on me? Solved in a flash!
"Huu... huu..."
The academy's main gate came into view.
Stepping onto campus eased the tension, but exhaustion crept in.
Even for me, this is rough...
Vision dimming with each step.
But then, a faint lavender scent hit my nose, snapping me alert.
"Ren?"
Somewhere nearby, Ren was there.
Scanning around, I spotted her—wrist grabbed by someone, being dragged into the gym storage shed.
"...What the hell?"