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454 – Why Does He Sound More and More Like a Villain?
🕑 Added 2025-08-16 15:00:15 +0000 UTCDoma glanced around.
His dozen men still stood guard at every corner of the courtyard, determined to defend to the death.
Yet the enemy had just leapt down from the sky in complete defiance of common sense.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his head.
The boy who looked down on them stood bathed in starlight and silver moonlight, elegant and radiant, almost divine in presence.
For a moment, Doma’s heart trembled.
How could someone so perfect even exist? And why, of all people, would such a man be leading those freakish delinquents outside?
He shook his head, forcing away the stray thoughts.
The youth’s physical ability was terrifying, yes—but he was just one man and a dog.
A different idea flickered in Doma’s mind.
“Oh dear, forgive me, forgive me. I should have opened the gates long ago to welcome you properly. The wind is strong and dangerous up there—you’d better come down quickly.”
He put on a mask of sincerity, as if already cowed by Kyousuke’s strength.
“Don’t fall for it, Boss! They’re trying to jump you!”
“Smash the gate open now!”
Kisaki’s anxious shouts echoed from outside.
Next to him, Onizuka and the others wore odd expressions. Surround Kyousuke?
Don’t make them laugh.
Even if the enemy had ten times their numbers, they’d just be feeding themselves to the slaughter.
If anyone was going to do the surrounding, it would be Kyousuke and his dog.
Still, at Kisaki’s signal, they started yelling too, hamming up their performances with over-the-top desperation.
To Doma’s ears, it sounded less like warnings to Kyousuke, and more like cues for him—as if they were begging him: Please, please ambush our boss!
“This is all a misunderstanding!” Doma hurriedly declared. “For someone who appreciates cherry blossoms as much as you, young man, I couldn’t be more welcoming!”
He had no idea that Uemura and two others had already taken position at the gate behind him, hidden from Kyousuke’s line of sight.
“I thought so,” Kyousuke replied with his usual gentle smile. “I knew Boss Doma wouldn’t stoop to something as underhanded as a mob attack.”
Hearing that, Doma’s smile grew even brighter.
“Exactly, exactly! Come down, I’ll take you to see the blossoms myself.”
“Then I’ll take you at your word.”
Kyousuke stepped forward and dropped from the gate.
His T-shirt snapped in the wind as he landed.
He bent his knees, absorbed the fall with ease, then looked up at the older men before him, eyes shining with anticipation.
His free hand fidgeted slightly, fingers curling and stretching as if he couldn’t quite sit still.
‘Ha! His hand is trembling with fear! But it’s too late for fear now.’
Doma spotted the tiny motion, smugness flashing across his face.
‘A kid is still just a kid. A few sweet words and he can’t tell north from south.’
If this brat hadn’t shown up, his men wouldn’t have lasted much longer.
He’d already been preparing himself for disgrace, maybe even losing a finger.
But now—he had a chance to turn the tables.
The shouting outside had gone silent. All the better.
A grin crept across Doma’s face.
‘Weren’t you so arrogant when you were storming me just now?’
‘Now you can only watch helplessly as I beat your boss into the dirt!’
‘I bet you’re all in despair already.’
“Let this be a lesson,” Doma sneered. “Don’t believe everything people say. Consider today’s lesson a free gift from your uncle.”
Only now did the yakuza boss drop his facade and reveal his snarling face.
He was no saint—if he’d had the strength, he never would’ve played along with the boy in the first place.
“Still, if you kneel and apologize right now, I might forgive you.”
The smug cruelty in his expression couldn’t have been clearer.
Kyousuke sighed, eyes flashing like stars. “I knew it. No one in this world could possibly love cherry blossoms as much as I do.”
His mood had already been foul tonight.
For someone to serve themselves up to him now… Kisaki really was too thoughtful.
“Strategist, should I call an ambulance?” Gorou whispered.
He’d heard from Kisaki that their boss wasn’t in a good mood tonight.
“No need,” Kisaki cut him off coldly.
He wasn’t sure if Kyousuke would hold back like usual in his current state.
But whether the enemy ended up crippled or dead, one thing was certain: their boss had never left the dorm tonight.
Inside the gates, as Kyousuke began to look bored from waiting, Doma finally grew tired of talking.
With a wave of his right hand, he barked like a true general:
“Get him! Aim for the head!”
Already prepared, Nakamura charged with a roar.
His iron bat swung down with murderous force, aiming to split open Kyousuke’s head like a melon.
At the last instant, Kyousuke tilted his body and let the blow whistle past.
The momentum carried Nakamura stumbling forward, completely off balance.
A simple trip would’ve sent him sprawling face-first into the ground, but Kyousuke didn’t bother.
Instead, he casually extended his right arm, holding it straight across.
Doma’s eyes widened.
Impressive reflexes, yes—but what use was one arm against a charging two-hundred-pound man? This fool was brainless after all.
No wonder he’d walked into their trap.
One arm could never—
“What the hell?!”
Nakamura slammed into Kyousuke’s outstretched arm as if into an iron bar.
His charge rebounded entirely onto himself.
His tongue lolled out cartoonishly as his feet lifted off the ground.
Before Doma could even shout in disbelief, Kyousuke spun smoothly on his heel and unleashed a sharp roundhouse kick.
His foot slammed into Nakamura’s gut, sending the massive man flying back the way he’d come.
‘Boom!’
The impact rang through the quiet courtyard as Nakamura crashed down.
Doma heard the gulps of his subordinates behind him.
He turned, desperate to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating—only to find his men staring just as dumbfounded.
Worse still, while they’d all been fixated on Kyousuke, the courtyard walls had quietly filled with delinquents perched atop them, watching like vultures.
Damn it. This was part of his plan all along?!
“What’s wrong? Weren’t you going to mob me?” Kyousuke asked lightly, tapping his sandal back into place with a flick of his toe.
“Though I’m a bit late, allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Hojou Kyousuke of the Bousou Angels. Thank you for looking after my worthless comrades.”
He bared his teeth in a grin.
“Numbers don’t matter. Come at me, all of you.”
Doma’s forehead beaded with cold sweat.
At last he understood.
The boy hadn’t walked into their ambush. It was they who had walked into his.
Kyousuke caught a glimpse of the faces peering down at him from the wall.
The feverish excitement in their eyes confirmed what he already suspected.
‘Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why the hell aren’t these brats in bed right now?!’
Do they not understand that sleep deprivation kills? Keep neglecting your sleep now, and one day when you’re stuck at a desk job.
Chugging energy drinks with fever patches stuck to your forehead while squinting at documents through bloodshot eyes.
You’ll regret not just going to bed instead of picking fights with some middle-aged man!
The Yamazakura men had closed ranks around Doma, over a dozen hulking figures, each built like a tank—but right now, their foreheads were slick with sweat, faces pale and tense.
“Boss… what do we do?” Kamimura whispered, his throat dry.
Doma swallowed hard, hiccupping in his panic. Hell if I know what to do!
“Maybe you could… tell ‘em another story? They seemed to really like that manzai routine earlier,” Nakamura groaned from the ground.
‘This idiot… why couldn’t that guy have just kicked you dead earlier?’
Doma’s eyes flicked nervously between Kyousuke and the group crouched on the wall, watching like vultures. His face hardened.
“What’s the matter? Worried my men will jump in?” Kyousuke said casually, standing there with not a hint of the brutal roundhouse kick from moments before.
His tone was disarmingly warm.
“Don’t worry. It’s already rude enough for us to bother you this late at night—if we ganged up on you too, that would be going too far.”
He smiled sincerely.
“No matter how many of you there are, no matter what weapons you use—please, go all out.”
“You bastard… you’ve gone too far!” Kamimura, who had been the calmest of the bunch, finally snapped.
“Barging into someone’s home and mouthing off like this—don’t you have an ounce of respect for your seniors, you little punk?!”
“That’s it! I can’t take this anymore—I’m calling the cops!”
The moment Nakamura blurted that out, the whole place fell into awkward silence.
Kyousuke clicked his tongue.
‘Why do I suddenly feel like the villain here?’
He looked down at Momotarō in his arms—
‘Come on, anyone hugging a dog this cute can’t possibly be the bad guy, right?’
Then he glanced at his men crouched on the wall, faces twisted into demonic grins.
‘Great… now I really do look like the villain here.’
Doma stayed silent.
Negotiating across the gate had given him some leverage, but now, face to face, all he could do was endure the boy’s arrogance.
And no matter how noble the words sounded, he didn’t believe a single one of them.
If Kyousuke was truly pushed into a corner, those maniacs on the wall would definitely storm in.
“What’s the matter? Still not enough? Fine then… I’ll fight using only one leg. If any of you manage to land even a single hit, the Rampaging Angels will withdraw.”
The Yamazakura men’s faces twisted even further.
Even Nakamura, who’d been sprawled on the ground, forced himself up, clutching his stomach.
‘He’s mocking us… this brat’s mocking us!’
Their fists clenched, eyes burning with fury, just waiting for Doma’s signal.
Even if they got beaten bloody, they’d make this cocky punk pay.
Unlike them, Kisaki’s eyes glittered with delight as he stared at his boss.
‘Incredible… Boss’s evolving even faster than before.’
‘Compared to when he crushed Kōsaka Akane, he’s become a true villain!’
‘Saying the most arrogant things in the humblest voice… bringing despair to his enemies with sheer overwhelming power.’
‘This is the strongest man who leads us!’
Beside him, Gorou and the others were practically trembling with excitement, itching to cheer out loud.
Onizuka had one hand jammed into his pocket, gripping a party popper he’d brought along just in case.
He was saving it for the perfect moment.
But none of them dared to interrupt—everyone knew their leader preferred solo demolition.
Sure, before it had always been middle and high schoolers.
But tonight? Tonight he was about to take on a real yakuza clan.
‘An absolute milestone in history!’
Doma’s eyes flicked again to the “vultures” on the wall.
He grit his teeth and forced a grin.
“If we lose… the sakura tree is yours.”
He wanted to trap Kyousuke with his own words, make him commit.
“I knew I wasn’t mistaken—Doma-san, you’re a man of reason,” Kyousuke said brightly.
He set Momotarō down, and the pup scampered off to the wall, barking little encouragements for his aniki.
“Men, give it everything you’ve got!”
With a roar, Doma charged.
The pajama-clad brutes behind him bellowed and rushed forward too.
Kyousuke only looked more relaxed, watching the yakuza throw themselves at him with fiery determination.
Doma was shorter than Nakamura, but his sheer bulk gave him the unstoppable momentum of a human battering ram.
Against something like that, most would dodge or deflect—but with only one leg allowed, Kyousuke chose to meet him head-on.
His red flip-flop struck square against Doma’s face.
The “unstoppable” battering ram rocketed backward even faster than he’d come, crashing down on two of his own men.
The others froze, swallowing hard, then grit their teeth and charged anyway.
Retreat was no longer an option.
What’s scarier—a single inhuman monster, or a pack of madmen?
That was the question now.
Kamimura lunged low, arms spread wide, aiming to pin Kyousuke down so the others could land a hit.
But Kyousuke’s combat sense was on another level.
One sharp knee strike made Kamimura double over, bile spilling from his mouth.
His planted left foot pivoted, twisting him just out of reach of another punch.
His body rose into the air, his free leg snapping out in a flying kick that crushed another thug’s face, slamming his head into the comrade beside him.
Unless he needed to charge up a “ki blast,” no amount of group attacks could faze Kyousuke.
His senses were several times sharper than any normal man’s, alert to every strike from every angle.
His footwork flowed like lightning, ensuring he only ever faced one opponent at a time.
Fighting with one leg might have been unimaginable for anyone else—but for him, knees, shins, even toes were deadly weapons.
If it weren’t so disgusting, he could probably hook someone’s nostrils with his toes and flip them over.
Knees slammed into guts, insteps smashed into jaws—no one could last a single second in front of him.
The Yamazakura charged with terrifying momentum, only to collapse even faster.
