.
..
…
..
.
The second month at school was a lot more interesting than the first. First of all, after some digging, I now had Shido-fucker in the palm of my hand. I could do whatever I wanted, and he couldn't lift a damn finger against me. You might be wondering how I managed to pull that off… Well, let's rewind a bit.
.
..
.
(Flashback)
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER REALLY WANT TO DIE, HUH?!" A deep voice bellowed through the dimly lit room.
A man in a red suit and black ski mask loomed over a bruised and swollen Koichi Shido, who was barely able to lift his head. His lips were split, blood trickling down his face as he whimpered in pain.
"W-What did I do to you?!" Shido gasped, struggling for breath.
"You raped more than five students across three different schools and you threatened a friend of mine recently." The masked brute's voice was calm, but the menace behind it was undeniable.
"W-What? I didn't threaten anyon—" Shido stopped mid-sentence, his breath hitching as he pieced the puzzle together. Di Balla.
He had assumed it was a bluff, but now it was clear. How the hell does he have connections to the Yakuza? If he wanted, he could destroy my life… or worse, my father's. Shit… I can't afford to offend him anymore…
CLAP!
The masked man smacked him again. "Listen here, little shit. From now on, you will keep your disgusting hands to yourself. You will not disrespect my friend again. You will stop picking fights with students you don't like. Am I clear?"
Shido's entire body trembled. "Y-Yes, sir…"
"I WASN'T ASKING, I'M DEMANDING! AM I CLEAR?!"
"YES, SIR!"
"Good. Boys, drop him off at home. Keep an eye on him."
As Shido was dragged out, the masked man pulled out his phone and made a call.
"The job's done."
"Your payment has been transferred. Thanks again for your help. Send my regards to the boss," I replied on the other end.
"Alright. See you at the club for training? That kid's getting the hang of it."
"Yeah. See you there."
Click.
(Present Day)
Well, in short, Izana-san "persuaded" Shido to stop being a dick. The alternative would have been prison, where he'd be getting all the dick he could handle.
With that problem out of the way, I had a new focus—Rei. It was time to separate her from Hisashi before she latched onto him, and I also had to get Takashi to walk with me instead. He would be part of my infantry, training alongside Hiroki. My plan was simple: get Rei to slowly forget both of them in a romantic sense.
I wasn't a fan of NTR, so I'd make this as clean as possible.
.
..
.
(Time Skip: Afternoon)
I made my way to the kendo club room. It was time to recruit another key member into my team. Classes were boring, and I had no plans of completing school, so… priorities.
I knocked on the door and peeked inside. "Hey girls, mind if I watch your training?"
One girl scowled. "No! This is a private—"
"Yes, you can, Di Balla-san." A calm yet authoritative voice cut in.
I smirked. That voice belonged to none other than Saeko Busujima. Tall, well-conditioned, and carrying an air of discipline. She had striking purple hair, a well-toned physique, and a confidence that could cut through steel.
I took the opportunity to scan her stats.
Name: Saeko Busujima
Age: 18
Survival Level: 3/10 (Tier 1)
Survival Abilities: 3 – (Swordswoman / Clear Mind / Cook)
Bio: Daughter of a kendo master, she developed her martial arts at an early age. As a young teen, she was assaulted but managed to break beyond repair her attacker, resulting in his death and discovering her sadistic side in the process.
Wow. That's a solid skillset for a so-called 'normal' civilian. Mentally, she wasn't the most stable person, but her combat potential was undeniable.
It was time to recruit—I mean, convince her to join me.
.
..
.
My way of convincing her was a little... unorthodox.
We stood at the center of the training hall, wooden bokken in hand. A girl called out, "Prepare!"
"Hai!" We responded in unison.
"Fight!"
Saeko moved first—fast. Her footwork was precise, calculated. I barely had time to parry her downward strike before she pivoted on her heel, aiming a sweeping attack at my ribs. I twisted my torso, barely avoiding the hit, countering with a quick thrust to her shoulder.
She sidestepped and retaliated, swinging with incredible force. I blocked just in time, the bokken clashing against mine with a sharp crack that echoed in the room. The force vibrated down my arms, but I held my ground.
"You're good, Marco-kun," she said, smirking. "But not good enough."
I feinted left, then spun, aiming for her legs. She anticipated it, leaping back effortlessly before lunging forward with a strike that nearly caught my wrist. I retaliated with a flurry of strikes—high, low, left, right—testing her defenses.
She blocked each one with near-perfect precision.
We circled each other, breathing heavily, analyzing. The crowd watching was dead silent, eyes glued to the match.
Then, we moved at the same time—our bokken clashing mid-air in a final strike, neither of us giving ground. A deadlock.
Some time passed.
Huff… Huff…
I wiped sweat from my brow. "For fuck's sake… Huff… why the hell are you so strong?"
Saeko grinned. "I've been training for almost thirteen years, Marco-kun."
"Well, I also trained for nearly thirteen years, Saeko-chan."
She smirked. "So… a draw? That's anticlimactic."
I sighed. "Alright. Then let's do this instead. We go on the date, and I also buy you the bokken from the bet we made earlier. Deal?"
She stared at me for a moment before nodding. "Deal."
.
..
…
..
.