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431 Miss Celty, I Want to Ride With Hojou-san Too!
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 15:00:00 +0000 UTC“Monster…” Hoshizuki’s jaw dropped in disbelief.
Just moments ago, Kyousuke still looked the part of a refined novelist — that calm, intellectual, artsy type of handsome.
And yet, this same man had just grabbed Shintarou — who was easily over 180 cm tall and built like a damn tank — and hurled him five or six meters away with his bare hands.
The poor guy crashed onto the roof of a blue Toyota, crushing it like a tin can.
Sure, it was a Japanese car and not known for its durability, but the way that roof caved in was insane.
Just from the wreckage alone, you could tell how much Shintarou weighed.
And to think someone could throw him like a ragdoll — what kind of monster strength was that!?
Gulp.
As Hoshizuki swallowed hard, a wave of goosebumps broke out along her bare thighs — not from the cold, of course.
Her body had long since been tempered through years of training; she wasn’t that fragile.
No, this reaction came from a much deeper place… from imagining just how overwhelming that strength of Kyousuke’s might feel — in more intimate situations.
That gentle voice… those kind, refined expressions… How could that same person unleash such brutal, explosive violence in a split second?
The sheer contrast made Hoshizuki’s legs squeeze together involuntarily as she swallowed again, her thoughts spiraling down a rabbit hole of dangerous curiosity.
“H-Hey, Celty-san…” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, eyes still glued to the sight of Hojou kicking down three more people like bowling pins. “When you and Hojou-san ride… um, ride the bike together… does he always use that much strength?”
Huh?
Celty blinked, confused.
Why would riding a bike need that kind of force? Sure, motorcycles require some control, but nothing on this level…
Then she remembered — she had once told Hojou to hold tightly onto her waist, even suggesting tying a rope around him for safety.
Maybe this girl had misunderstood the meaning of riding…
Celty scratched her neck awkwardly. “Well, uh, my way of riding is… a bit different from normal people’s.”
That was putting it mildly.
Her bike could scale vertical walls and even glide through the air like a hang glider.
If someone wasn’t tied securely, they could literally fall to their death.
But explaining that was out of the question — if this girl told her police officer dad, and he reported it to the local traffic division in Ikebukuro, Celty would be in deep trouble.
She hadn’t come back to Tokyo to deal with that annoying cop again.
In fact, she was planning to give her trusty steed Shintaro a makeover just to avoid being recognized.
Maybe it was time to get a real license too — start living like a law-abiding rider who didn’t bolt at the sight of traffic police.
Gulp.
Both Hoshizuki and her friend Furuzawa Sae swallowed hard, watching Celty fidget like a flustered schoolgirl.
Her embarrassed tone had already set their imaginations on fire, and in their minds, all kinds of wild images began to form and of course, the male lead in all of them had Kyousuke’s face.
Not that either of them pictured themselves as the heroine.
No — the one in the spotlight was the woman right in front of them, clad in that skin-tight leather bodysuit: Celty.
A woman that gorgeous wasn’t just attractive to men.
With her long legs, slim waist, and full chest, even other women found it hard not to stare.
She was the type of person who made you salivate just by existing.
“H-How exactly is it different!?” Hoshizuki asked, voice rising in excitement. “Please, you have to elaborate!!”
“Eh?”
Celty froze.
The way they were looking at her, all fired up — did they find out she was a Dullahan!?
Was Hoshizuki’s phone call earlier actually a setup to get her arrested!?
“No, no, please don’t! It’s really just a little bit intense, that’s all!”
She waved her hands frantically.
Sure, her bike didn’t ride like normal ones.
Yes, it defied gravity and flew between buildings like something out of an action movie.
But it wasn’t like she hurt anyone! It was just… a little thrilling.
Barely more exciting than a roller coaster!
Hojou could back her up on that — he was a total scaredy-cat, but he still asked for more rides!
“Intense—!!” Hoshizuki and Sae exclaimed in unison, locking eyes with shared excitement.
Their minds were already racing.
They imagined Celty’s long, shapely legs straddling Hojou’s hips… that firm, round backside pressed tightly against him… her gloved hands planted on his chest as he gripped her chest…
“Ahhh❤️, I can’t take it…”
Meanwhile on the other side, Hojou had just picked up another guy and tossed him like a sack of potatoes.
That raw power only made their hearts pound harder.
“U-Um! Celty-san!” Hoshizuki suddenly raised her hand like a schoolgirl.
“Don’t call the cops!!” Celty yelped in panic.
“…Cops?”
Hoshizuki blinked.
That kind of "riding" wouldn’t fall under police jurisdiction…
“You’re not calling the police?” Celty breathed a sigh of relief.
“Even though my dad is a cop, I’m part of a biker gang, remember?” Hoshizuki said proudly. “Now that Shintarou’s been handled by Hojou-san, why would I call the cops?”
She grabbed Celty’s hands.
The mention of “dad’s a cop” made Celty instinctively flinch again, looking like a startled bunny — it was adorably pitiful.
“Actually, I have a small request…”
Hoshizuki looked up at her with sparkling eyes.
She was only 160 cm tall, a good head shorter than Celty.
“…What is it?” Celty asked cautiously. As long as it wasn’t a police report, she’d listen.
“Can I ride with you and Hojou-san sometime!?” Hoshizuki gave a full 90-degree bow like a love confession.
“Me too!” Sae added, latching onto Celty’s other hand. The two girls clutched hands, waiting like nervous suitors after a proposal.
“Uh…?”
Celty blinked again.
“Please! I love thrilling rides!”
“Me too!”
“Well, I could…” she hesitated, caught off guard by how serious they looked. But—
“My bike only seats one person.”
“That’s fine! I brought a car!”
Hoshizuki pulled out her keys and pressed the button — a turquoise BMW flashed its lights.
…Huh?
Didn’t they say they wanted to ride with her?
Celty tilted her head, puzzled. If they had a car, then why even come to her? Unless they meant… they wanted her to drive their BMW, and one of them would ride her bike?
“Wait… Hoshizuki-san, are you saying… you want to switch vehicles with me? Like… you ride my bike?”
“B-Bike…”
The moment she said that, Hoshizuki glanced at Hojou — who was now piling unconscious bodies like sandbags.
“That sounds so exciting…”
She laughed nervously, face flushed with a strange kind of excitement.
So… this was the kind of thing women could do, huh?
Even if he was a famous author — even if he could kick someone clear across the street — in the end, he was still being treated like “the ride.”
"Exciting??"
Celty was still utterly confused.
She’d only been gone from Japan for two years — how had the language evolved so much that she couldn’t understand it anymore?
Was it because Hoshizuki somehow knew her motorcycle was actually a ghostly horse, and that’s why she called it “thrilling”?
No way — Shintaro’s howls were disguised to sound like a normal exhaust pipe!
“Of course it’s thrilling!” Furuzawa Sae shouted passionately.
“That’s right. Maybe you just don’t find it thrilling anymore because you’ve gotten used to it,” Hoshizuki added with a knowing nod.
For her, Kyousuke was a celebrity she could only see on TV or the internet.
But for Celty… she probably rode around with him every single day.
And then, after the joyride, she’d ride him again back home. With ropes and everything…
No, stop it! Don’t think about it! It’s too much!!
Hoshizuki rubbed her long, slender thighs together anxiously, her face blushing so deeply it looked like it might start dripping blood.
“But it’s different for us,” she continued breathlessly. “To ride together with someone like him… Forget about treating him like a vehicle — I’d be happy to be the vehicle! I'd gladly pass out just from the pleasure!”
Celty flinched.
Wait — did Hoshizuki really know Shintaro was alive? That wasn’t just a metaphor!?
To ordinary people, a ghost horse would be terrifying. And if that secret had been exposed…
“Uhh…”
Celty fell silent, anxiety rising fast. When could her ghost steed have been discovered?
Was it when they climbed that wall the other day?
If word got out, it wouldn’t just be the traffic police chasing her anymore.
The Paranormal Research Bureau… the Anti-Human Task Force… all kinds of shadowy government agencies might come after her!
Well, those were just organizations she’d seen in anime and online — supposedly fictional.
But come on, when people like her and Hojou existed, it only made sense that those groups might be real too.
If even the traffic police were terrifying, she didn’t even want to imagine what a government anti-superhuman division was like.
What should she do, what should she do…
Her knees trembled, her legs pressing tightly together. She felt like she might collapse from the stress.
Oho~~
‘Looks like Miss Celty isn’t so used to it after all,’ Hoshizuki thought gleefully.
‘I knew it! With a body as strong as Hojou-san’s, there’s no way anyone could get used to that!’
Maybe he started off as a calm, noble knight, but after a while… he’d definitely be the one pinning her down, making her cry out for mercy.
“So it’s not just that he looks strong — the real deal is even more overwhelming, right, Miss Celty?
That’s why you should let us join you. Maybe if we help, it won’t be so hard on you,” Hoshizuki said gently, like she was trying to lure a kitten out from under the couch.
“Absolutely not!”
Celty blurted it out before she could stop herself.
Realizing her tone was too harsh, she immediately followed up:
“I mean… it’s too dangerous. Someone like you — normal civilians — could never handle it!”
If those secret agencies ever found out, they wouldn’t spare anyone involved — not even innocent bystanders.
They’d erase every trace for the sake of “national security.”
But of course, Hoshizuki didn’t know what Celty was imagining.
She just assumed the hesitation came from Celty not wanting to share Hojou — probably because she was too addicted to his "rides."
“Don’t underestimate me!” Hoshizuki snapped.
She raised both hands to emphasize her chest, then smacked her own smooth, pale thighs.
“My body might not be as sexy as yours, and I don’t have much experience, but I’m not the type to back down!”
“Hoshizuki-san…”
Celty looked like she might cry.
They’d just met, and yet she was so passionate, so determined to help… What a kind girl.
So the rumors about Gunma were wrong after all! Everyone said it was full of scary, wild women, but here she was — a sweet, caring soul!
The women and men of Gunma were on completely different levels.
“You really are a good person,” Celty said, gripping her hand with gratitude.
‘But I can’t let you get involved — I just can’t!’ she vowed silently.
“Eh?” Hoshizuki blinked, baffled.
Celty really was hard to read. Or maybe she was just too easy to read?
Still, she thought to herself, ‘with how strong Hojou-san is, having one more person wouldn’t make things harder — it would make them better for everyone.’
‘This is a total win-win situation!’
———————————————————————
Meanwhile, on the other side, Kyousuke stood with his arms crossed, surveying the mountain of unconscious bodies stacked before him.
His brows furrowed deeply.
This was only his second time building a human pyramid, but even he could tell — this one was totally subpar.
It was supposed to be a show of dominance, but the structure barely reached four meters.
That was nothing compared to the glorious human tower they made with Toman — now that was art.
That one had height, symmetry, style. And the legendary “Invincible Mikey” might’ve been short, but his skills and the sheer number of subordinates under him?
Far superior to Shintarou’s crew.
More importantly… Toman had uniforms.
Uniforms were crucial for human pyramids.
They gave cohesion. Elegance. Right now, this mess looked like a pile of laundry.
If Sakura and the others saw this, they’d definitely laugh at him for having no artistic sense.
“Oh well,” he sighed, shaking his head. This is the countryside — can’t expect too much.
But just as he turned his head, that motion made him spot something hidden deep in the shadows behind the guardrail.
…That person.
Down on their knees, forehead pressed to the ground in a full dogeza bow, trembling as if begging the earth itself to swallow them whole.
‘Who…?’
Hojou narrowed his eyes, rifling through his memory to place the figure.
"Oh, right. That guy at the beginning—the one who mentioned the 'Rampaging Angel' and the 'Handless Devil.'"
Kyousuke finally placed the face. So that guy recognized him later on and slipped away to hide in the shadows?
Tch. Clever… but not that clever. Kyousuke guessed he probably wasn’t part of any baseball team.
Whether it's throwing punches or taking them, you stick together. Even if you're just watching from the sidelines, you're still part of the fight.
But someone who ducks out from the start? That kind of person gets isolated real quick.
"Hey, you over there," he called out casually.
"Y-Yes!" Suda had hoped to play dead.
But with everyone else already stacked into a human pyramid, there was no doubt the devil was talking to him. So he quickly stood to attention.
Did he realize acting like a coward would get him ostracized?
Of course he did. But he was sure things were different this time.
First of all, this wasn’t a real fight—it was a one-sided massacre.
You couldn’t be labeled a deserter when there hadn’t even been a battle.
And besides, hadn’t the devil said earlier that he'd be sending an army to occupy Gunma? Their little gang would be broken up for sure.
So who would be left to bully him?
Hah! Learn something, you engine-brained idiots, Suda sneered to himself. If you can’t think fast, you’ll never outrun the cops once the sirens come blaring.
Feeling smug, he scrambled up and jogged toward Kyousuke, bent over like a 190-year-old man.
"What would you want me to do?"
He wore the gentlest smile he'd ever mustered—so soft it would’ve put his first love to shame… at least in his own mind.
Kyousuke stared at the weaselly-looking guy, half-expecting to see literal whiskers sprouting from his cheeks.
"Climb to the top of that," Kyousuke pointed at the human pyramid, "and strike the same pose as before."
Huh?
Suda’s jaw dropped. He turned around to see his former comrades—all conscious ones, anyway—glaring daggers at him.
"Is there a problem?"
Kisaki stepped up beside Kyousuke.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth—a sign he'd taken some real damage.
He was furious at himself for getting hurt… and even more eager to take it out on someone who hadn’t.
"N-No problem at all!"
Suda snapped into a salute and darted off to the pyramid.
He didn't hesitate for a second—his foot landed squarely on Shintarou's face as he climbed.
The previously unconscious Shintarou jolted awake, squirming under the weight.
"You bastard, Suda! Are you trying to die?!"
"I'm gonna rip your tires off myself, you damn coward!"
"I’ll never forgive you for this!"
The angry curses came in waves as Suda climbed higher, using his teammates’ bodies like ladder rungs.
But he didn’t hear any of it. When he saw that human pyramid, he’d already come to a conclusion:
He couldn’t let his little brother come back to Gunma.
Not anymore.
The devil had already sunk his claws into this place.
From toying with Shintarou like a plaything to completely overwhelming their gang, and now this pyramid of bodies—it all made one thing crystal clear:
Kyousuke was exactly as the rumors described—brutal, powerful… and with a taste for cruelty.
Suda reached the top, took a moment to adjust his stance— —then dropped to his knees with a dramatic thud, bowing deep.
His forehead smacked the guy beneath him with a sharp, echoing crack.
