Prologue
I am a gangster.
"I—I'm sorry...! I won't... I won't do it again...!"
Crunch.
"Gaaaaaah...!"
"Of course you won't. You want to keep living, don't you?"
"Nngh— y-yes...! Yes, you're right!"
A social misfit no better than an animal, getting whatever he wants through violence.
"Back in the day I'd have gouged your eyes out so you could never pull this kind of shit again. Do that here, though, and there'd be blood everywhere..."
"B-because of the blood...?"
"So no blood, nothing anyone can see. I'll just break a finger. Only a little."
"Hhhk—?!"
Brrrrrr—
"Oh. Phone. Shut your mouth for a second. If they pick up so much as a peep, I'll smash your heel and the rest of you with it, and you'll never walk on two legs again."
"Y-yes!"
Not that I'm nothing but a gangster. More precisely, gangster is what I am—the actual job is a separate matter.
"Hello?"
"Manager, we're on a short break—where did you go? The producer is asking if we can appear on the show again next week..."
"Huh? Wh— for real? I-I'll be right there! Just gimme a second!"
"All right. Please hurry."
Click.
Right. I'm an idol manager. Manager, no less, to a girl group that sets your heart racing just by looking at them.
"Damn it... I was gonna take my time and snap them one by one, but I've gotta go. Something came up."
"Th-then..."
"Forget the fingers. We'll do the arm. I'll break it in one go."
"Hhk?! W-wai—"
"Scream and you're dead."
Snap!
So, to put it simply: I'm a gangster who became an idol manager.