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383 Wipe Them All Out
🕑 Added 2025-07-16 15:00:18 +0000 UTC"Shou-chan is just as adorable as ever," Hojou Mikiko said with a bright smile, casually wrapping her arm around Nishimiya Yaeko’s shoulder.
“She really is,” Yaeko replied with a contented sigh.
Even though her glass only held a fizzy drink, she already seemed slightly tipsy.
As she looked at her bashful, sweet daughter sitting beside Kyousuke, Yaeko felt nothing but gratitude.
Watching Shouko shyly duck her head, she thought:
‘I’m so glad I didn’t give up.’
‘I’m so glad I didn’t send her to a special needs school.’
‘And I’m so, so glad she met him.’
If she’d raised Shouko her way, perhaps her daughter would’ve become stronger—but that bright, innocent smile of hers would've been lost.
That childlike purity was a treasure, and it was still there because of him.
Yes, it wasn’t just Shouko.
Kyousuke had helped Yuzuru too—and really, their whole family.
“I owe you for raising such a wonderful son,” Yaeko said, lifting her glass with genuine warmth.
“Hehe~ I’m just happy you think so,” Mikiko laughed, clinking her glass with Yaeko’s.
Yaeko glanced around—at Eriri sitting beside Shouko, at Sakura beside herself—and let out a light chuckle.
“No one's perfect. If Kyousuke were a different kind of person, he and Shouko would never have become friends.”
Having raised a daughter with a disability, been abandoned by her husband, and worked in the hospital’s shadowy corners, Yaeko had seen the world’s darkest sides.
She understood more than anyone how precious a light in the dark could be—and how irresistibly it draws people in.
“Ahhh~ With so many cute kids around, I really feel like having a drink,” Mikiko pouted.
“Hehe, better hold off a bit longer,” Yaeko smiled knowingly. “At least until Kasuko starts elementary school.”
For parents, after all, nothing pairs better with a drink than watching their children grow up happily.
Meanwhile, Kyousuke had been about to ask Utaha-senpai something about Ishida Hidenori when a loud voice called from his right.
“Hojou brat! How long are you gonna hide over there?” Miyamizu Toshiki’s voice boomed across the room.
His face was flushed with drink, his volume rising with every round.
The quintessential middle-aged uncle, clearly he'd been drinking for quite a while.
“Yeah, yeah! Boss, aren’t you gonna come toast the town mayor already?
You even took us out to the ruins of Itomori back then to help find Mitsuha! Time to show some respect!” shouted Gorou, just as red-faced and fired up.
You’d think he’d been part of Toshiki’s mayoral campaign the way he was acting.
“That’s right! Boss, stop acting like some kid hiding in the girls’ corner! Come drink with the men like a real leader!” Eikichi Onizuka bellowed.
Then, grumbling under his breath, he added, “Man, do you know how long I’ve been dreaming of having a drink with you?”
Kyousuke turned his head.
Mitsuha’s father was gripping his cup like a weapon, glaring at him with a fire in his eyes that said move and I’ll breathe flames on you.
His own father, on the other hand, sat next to him with a blank expression, his head wobbling like a drunk bobblehead—definitely several drinks in and barely holding on.
Across from him, Onizuka and Gorou were red as cooked crabs.
‘Onizuka, you should be thankful I’m not single right now,’ Hojou thought.
‘If I were, I’d record this and send it to your girlfriend to make sure you reflect properly on just how amazing girls can be.’
“What’s his problem?! He’s got an issue with you sitting next to a blonde beauty like me?
What, he wants you to be sweating it out with a bunch of stinky dudes instead?!” Eriri growled the moment anyone tried to drag Hojou away.
“Kyousuke, make him do five hours of extra practice tonight!” Mitsuha chimed in. She was no stranger to the “extra training” jokes flying around lately.
“Fufu~ Sawamura-san, clingy girls aren’t very popular, you know,” Utaha teased with a smirk.
She didn’t want Kyousuke to leave either, but it didn’t stop her from jabbing at Eriri—that was her favorite drinking pastime.
“!?”
Eriri whipped her head around, about to fire back with the changing room incident—only to see that demoness mouth the word tomorrow.
“…Ugh, geez. Doesn’t anyone realize Kyousuke isn’t even of drinking age yet? He’s already an idiot—if he drinks, he’ll turn into a super idiot.
What if he gets so drunk someone has to feed him? Not me! …Okay, maybe I’d wipe his mouth,” Eriri muttered.
Then, she yank Kyousuke down by the collar, she whispered harshly in his ear:
“I’m gonna go get a bottle filled with plain water. Until then, just stall them. Whatever you do, absolutely, absolutely do not drink!”
“Got it~ got it~” Kyousuke smiled, eyes narrowing in amusement.
“Take this seriously! And don’t think I’m doing this because I care about you or anything! I just don’t want to be embarrassed working with some hungover idiot tomorrow, got it?!”
That voice—soft and tsundere enough to make anyone’s ears tingle—left her cheeks burning red.
But she pressed on like a true princess.
“Roger that! I swear I won’t get drunk, Chief Supervisor!” Kyousuke declared dramatically.
“Hmph. That’s more like it… If you really want to drink, fine. Next time you come to my place, my dad can be your drinking buddy,” she added in a tiny voice.
“Mm-hmm~” Kyousuke fought to hold back his grin, then turned to Mitsuha.
“Kyousuke…” she gave a wry smile, relieved her father hadn’t gone too far yet.
“I’ll go talk to Miyamizu-san for a bit,” Kyousuke said, flashing her a reassuring smile before getting up and heading toward the rowdy men’s table.
As expected, Eriri quickly stood up and went to find a waiter.
Who cared about cheating or appearances—she wasn’t letting her idiot co-worker get drunk and make a fool of himself.
The moment Kyousuke joined the group, the entire table erupted.
With Onizuka and Gorou whooping like mad, even Makki Hojou, Osaka Gou, his editors, and some author friends from nearby seats gathered around.
The six-person table became packed wall-to-wall in seconds.
“Oi, Makki, I get Onizuka and Gorou being idiots, but what are you doing here too?” Kyousuke raised an eyebrow.
His question wasn’t just aimed at Makki, but also the editors and supposedly more reliable guests.
Japan technically forbade underage drinking, but that didn’t stop plenty of teens from drinking on sidewalks.
Still, people were careful not to be photographed with alcohol.
If adults got caught drinking with a minor, it could spell trouble.
“Don’t worry, everything’s taken care of,” Osaka Gou grinned, lifting a bottle to pour Kyousuke a drink.
He gestured proudly toward the back.
Kyousuke straightened up and looked over his shoulder.
The table where the press and newly acquainted authors had been seated?
Now completely empty.
“They’ve all been dragged off drunk to other private rooms,” Kisaki said quietly.
There was no way he’d leave such a risk unattended.
If he hadn’t taken care of it properly, then he wasn’t here to join the fun—he’d be here to take out Onizuka and Gorou for trying to start something.
As for Miyamizu Toshiki… well, that was something big brother’s father would have to handle himself.
“…So you guys planned this all out from the beginning, huh?” Kyousuke gave a helpless smile.
“That’s right! I’ve been waiting for this day forever!” Onizuka cracked his knuckles eagerly.
Losing a fight to the boss was one thing—but drinking? That was a whole different battlefield!
“Cut the chatter!” Miyamizu Toshiki barked again. “Back when I was your age, I was already downing drinks like a real man. So pick up that glass and show me what you’re made of!”
So... was capacity now measured by how much alcohol you could hold?
Kyousuke looked at the two older men sitting across from him, cracked his neck, and responded loudly,
“Well then, since Miyamizu-san is feeling so festive, I’d be honored to oblige.”
At those words, Miyamizu Toshiki nodded in satisfaction. “Now that’s more like it!”
Kyousuke glanced around the room.
Everyone was clutching their glasses, staring at him like predators sizing up prey.
He chuckled inwardly. Did they really think he was an easy target?
He didn’t lift his glass right away—not because Eriri hadn’t brought the fake liquor yet, but because there was still some important preparation to be done before wiping the floor with them.
Lifting his right hand, he carefully removed the pure silver cufflink from his left sleeve—the one engraved with the Yotsuba clover.
A gift like that didn’t deserve to be tarnished with spilled booze.
The moment Miyamizu Toshiki spotted the familiar cufflink, he slammed back the rest of his drink, then slammed the glass down with a scowl.
His gaze turned ferocious.
That cufflink had been a gift from his wife! He’d only “left it at home” while heading out for work—yet somehow Mitsuha had given it to this kid?
Kyousuke ignored the not-so-subtle jealousy of the middle-aged man.
After unfastening the cufflink, he carefully rolled up his sleeves and undid the knotted charm at his wrist.
As he adjusted it in his hands, he spoke without even lifting his head:
“This is your final chance. Put down your glasses and leave the battlefield. Because the moment I raise mine—anyone still holding a drink is going down.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise of the lively room like a blade.
It didn’t sound like a man facing an overwhelming challenge—it sounded like a man making a promise.
If it were anyone else talking, people might’ve laughed it off as bravado.
But this was Kyousuke.
Everyone in that room had been drawn to him, not just because of his strength, but because of his presence—his charisma, his overwhelming will.
More than a few of them were instantly reminded of the day he secured his place as the second-generation leader of the Rampaging Angels.
Onizuka himself couldn’t help but recall the terrifying figure he’d seen through swollen eyes—that monstrous man who walked through the bodies of the fallen Aimei Aishu gang, bloodied bamboo sword in hand, like a demon of vengeance.
A shiver ran down his spine.
The most timid of them, Tsuzuki Ryou—brilliant at school but bad with pain—was already on the verge of putting his glass down.
He’d been beaten up enough to know better.
Even Shimomura Tetsuya felt a jolt of unease.
He remembered when he tried to secure a prime magazine slot for Kyousuke after an author died in a plane crash.
Only to face stiff opposition from the editor of the skating champion series—who was, of course, completely humiliated after Kyousuke's work proved too powerful to ignore.
Tetsuya’s own reputation had skyrocketed thanks to that win.
The only reason he even dared to join this ambush today was because Osaka Gou had assured him that Kyousuke, being so young, had to be a lightweight.
It was a rare chance to get one over on him.
But Tetsuya knew better than most—Kyousuke wasn’t just some kid.
He was the so-called “Handless Demon,” the undisputed leader of Tokyo’s strongest gang.
And if Onizuka’s crew drank like madmen, what did that say about the guy they followed?
Still, his doubts started to fade as Danma Ryuji and the others—guys who had gone on that Okinawa trip with Kyousuke—chimed in:
“Boss never drinks, even at the happiest times! He’s gotta be a total lightweight! This is our chance! He just won an award, and his future father-in-law’s throwing down the gauntlet—let’s end him tonight!”
But Shimomura Tetsuya wasn’t so easily swayed.
He’d seen firsthand how unreliable these guys could be—his own son among them.
So he turned to Kisaki Tetta for confirmation.
Tetta nodded confidently, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Despite being young, he’d always carried himself like a seasoned street veteran.
“Don’t believe him!” Osaka Gou suddenly shouted, seeing the doubt spreading among the ranks.
He shoved two untouched glasses back into Mashiro Masashi and Misaki Megaku’s hands.
“Hojou’s bluffing! He’s just one guy! We’ve got a whole army of alcohol warriors! We can totally take him down!”
He was giving it everything he had—like a man trying to prove to his wife he’d never visit a hostess bar again.
But that speech? It backfired spectacularly.
Instead of calming everyone, it just reminded them of the terrifying truth: Kyousuke had soloed not one, but three entire gangs—Rampaging Angels, Aimei Aishu, and Toman.
Each of them had dozens, if not hundreds, of members. And he crushed them all.
So yeah.
Numbers didn’t really matter.
Osaka Gou might not have known that—but he did know that Kyousuke never made empty threats.
His own guts were churning now, and it felt like his bile was trying to claw its way out of his throat.
But it was too late to back out now.
If the others bailed, he—the mastermind—would be the one paying the price.
“GET HIM!!” he roared.
Miyamizu Toshiki was the first to cheer him on, his blood already pumping.
Shimomura Tetsuya and Kisaki Tetta were just about to put their glasses down…
When Kyousuke looked up.
“Oh? No one’s backing down? That’s great.”
He smiled, satisfied.
“In that case—let’s drink.”
With that, he carefully placed the cufflink into his wallet and tucked the charm into his breast pocket.
Just then—thump thump thump—the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind him.
“Here’s your drink!”
Eriri had returned from her “brewing” mission, carrying a huge bottle of deep amber whiskey.
“Thank you,” Kyousuke said casually as he took it from her.
The moment she turned her back, he slipped the fake bottle under the table.
Seeing that, everyone else quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
They had all been worried.
If they were drinking the real stuff while Kyousuke was sipping on fake booze, they might not live to see the sunrise.
But in the very next moment, every pair of eyes widened again.
“Utaha, ask the boss to bring us ten more bottles of whiskey and ten bottles of sake—the best they’ve got,” Kyousuke called out.
“Got it~” Utaha answered with a gentle laugh, glancing sidelong at Eriri, who was standing beside her looking smug.
With a smirk tugging at her lips, she strolled toward the door.
‘A man like Kyousuke would never back down.’
But she wasn’t about to spoil Eriri’s moment just yet.
Letting her enjoy the illusion would make it all the more fun to crush her later.
“……”
Miyamizu Toshiki glanced at his half-finished glass of Yamazaki whisky and hesitated slightly.
“Kyousuke, don’t you think… ten bottles is a bit much—”
“No worries! If we run out, we’ll just order more!” Kyousuke beamed as he picked up the glass that Osaka Gou had filled to the brim, almost overflowing.
“To our fateful meeting!”
As soon as he spoke the toast, the rest of the already-tipsy group felt a wave of heat in their chests and raised their glasses in unison.
“To our fateful meeting!”
Kyousuke downed the entire glass in one go, not even flinching.
Not so much as a twitch of his brow.
Then he gently pushed Onizuka aside and took over the role of pouring drinks himself.
“To Miyamizu-san, thank you for coming to celebrate with me.” He poured him a tall, full glass.
“To my dear old man—thank you for your hard work.”
Another tall, full glass.
He had half a mind to cheat for his father’s sake, but the situation wouldn’t allow it.
Still, he had faith in his old man’s sly tricks.
Sure, the guy looked completely sloshed already, but Kyousuke knew that was likely just an act.
He was probably nowhere near drunk yet.
When he was little, this idiot of a dad used to come home bragging to Kyousuke and his mom, saying his incredible acting skills were the reason he could sneak out of work and come home early every day.
Kyousuke had thought he was bluffing back then.
But seeing it now? He believed every word.
Even with his sharp eye for detail, he couldn’t find a single crack in the performance.
His father looked completely wasted.
‘Incredible work, Father.’
As Kyousuke went around pouring drinks for everyone, he thanked each person individually.
If you were going to drink, you had to show your gratitude properly.
One bottle was gone before they even knew it.
As they stared at the brimming glasses in front of them, the middle-aged men all felt their guts churn.
“To our fateful meeting!” Kyousuke called out again.
“That’s too lazy of a toast!” Osaka Gou protested, trying to stall for time between drinks.
“But meeting all of you is the happiest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Kyousuke replied with a hearty laugh.
That line made not only the men smile—but even the girls sitting off to the side couldn’t help but grin as well.
‘To our fateful meeting,’ each of them echoed silently in their hearts, sipping their drinks with fond expressions—except for little Kasuko, who proudly shouted it out loud.
‘Can Kyousuke drink?’
No.
If he was going to be a role model for Sakura’s good eating and drinking habits, then how could he be downing alcohol?
‘Can Kyousuke handle alcohol?’
Absolutely.
With a body trained to perfection, how could something as trivial as drinking possibly defeat him?
And worst case scenario, he could always just “reset to the beginning.”
Not that he’d need any tricks against this flock of lightweights in front of him.
