CHAPTER 89: CHAPTER 10

At the end of the school day, the group leaving Shunji High was a sight to behold: Seijirou was flanked by the elegant Suzune and the serious-minded Rindou, followed by a chaotic quartet of Yukina, Emi, Touka, and Rei, with Haruka bringing up the rear.

Rei broke the relative silence, still buzzing with confusion as she turned to Haruka, her expression perplexed. "Haruka-san, since when did you get so close to Seijirou-kun and the others? Aside from when we grouped together, the two of you don’t even interact."

Haruka, walking with her usual stiff, perfect posture, answered without any inflection, as if stating the weather. "Since last night, Tachibana Rei."

"Last night?" Rei’s eyes went wide, and her gaze instinctively drifted down to the painfully visible hickeys on Haruka’s neck, and a searing blush engulfed her face. "Y-Y-Y-You! Seijirou-kun did that!?"

Haruka nodded once, finding no pragmatic reason to deny it. "He did."

She rationalized that since Rei had already begun to integrate herself into this volatile group, she would inevitably learn the truth of their transactional relationship sooner or later.

Besides, it’s not like Haruka has something to be embarrassed about. It was just sex, an instinct deeply engraved in almost all living creatures on the planet.

If Seijirou didn’t say that she had to keep it a secret, she wouldn’t even bother trying to hide it from their classmates.

Rindou, walking slightly apart, observed the exchange with a keen eye.

She looked from the composed Haruka to Suzune, who seemed completely unbothered by the revelation of Seijirou’s conquest.

’Did Suzune already know? And she didn’t say anything?’ Rindou felt a sharp, sudden relief. ’If so, then I shouldn’t have to feel guilty about my own involvement, right? It looks like Suzune herself doesn’t mind the competition?’

She couldn’t help but feel a little happy. Maybe she should have a little talk with Suzune later.

Touka, walking at the back, was a blushing mess of internal conflict.

She silently alternated her gaze between Yukina, who had kissed Seijirou openly, Haruka, who was sporting fresh, passionate marks, and Suzune who was leading the pack with serene indifference.

’Is this... the world of adults?’ she thought, her cheeks burning crimson. ’This... this is so dirty! Is this normal? Am I out of touch with modern times?’

Yukina, hearing Haruka’s words, simply threw a casual thumbs-up at Seijirou. "You slept with the android, Seijirou-kun? Damn, good job. I didn’t think anyone could crack that ice."

Haruka blinked, a minuscule reaction. "Android?"

"Yeah, that’s what people called you. Don’t you know?" Yukina smirked, "Oh, I wonder what those people who admired you will feel when they found out you slept with the most notorious and hated boy in school."

Just then, the conversation abruptly ceased.

Seijirou and Suzune, who were leading the group toward the entrance of their entertainment establishment, simultaneously stopped dead in their feet.

Everyone else paused, their eyes following Seijirou’s gaze to the road ahead.

There, right in front of the inconspicuous service entrance to the building, was a scene of brutality that shocked the more faint hearted Rei and Touka.

A young man with fiery red hair sat casually atop the unconscious, badly beaten bodies of three people they knew intimately: Renji, Shou, and Sakai.

The three friends were clearly in severe pain, crumpled on the concrete.

The red-haired young man, who had been staring lazily at the sky, finally noticed the arriving group.

His eyes immediately locked onto Seijirou.

He grinned, revealing a wide, arrogant flash of teeth. "Welcome back. I believe you are Kageyama Seijirou, yes?"

He shifted slightly on Shou’s prone chest. "Since you weren’t here to welcome me, I took the liberty of beating up your subordinates instead. Hope you don’t mind the housekeeping."

Seijirou’s usual cool mask shattered instantly. His fist instinctively clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His eyes burned with an ice-cold, frightening fury at the sight of his loyal friends injured and humiliated.

The red-haired aggressor cracked his neck, stretching slightly.

"Honestly, these guys are tough," he commented, as if reviewing sparring partners. "Better than my own guys at least, who can only act as a punching bag. These three can actually fight back. I wonder how you trained them. Maybe we can exchange some pointers."

Seijirou didn’t utter a word.

He simply pulled his backpack off his shoulders and handed it to Suzune, and said with his voice low, but firm with absolute command. "Take my bag. All of you girls, stay back. Way back."

The red-haired young man noticed the change in Seijirou’s demeanor and chuckled, immediately feeling an excitement burned in his chest.

He stood up from his perch on Shou’s body and swaggered toward Seijirou, stopping just a few steps away, invading his personal space.

He threw his hand out in a mock salute.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly before the main event. Kirishima Ayano! Captain of the Karate Club, straight from Saint Shinomiya Highschool, and one of the Eight Limbs under Matsuda Sosuke. Oh, and just so you know? That guy you embarrassed, Gaido Haruto? He’s my colleague."

Seijirou slowly began to loosen his tie, pulling it free from his neck, and deliberately took off his blazer, folding it over his arm.

His fury had now settled into a terrifying calm.

"You made a wise choice introducing yourself before the fight, Ayano," Seijirou stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "Because after this, you won’t even have the chance to open your mouth again."

Ayano’s grin widened into a challenging, joyful snarl.

Then, the air between them seemed to compress and shatter.

In an inhuman, simultaneous burst of speed, the two fighters closed the distance.

Ayano channeled the full force of his national-level Karate mastery, while Seijirou unleashed the raw, disciplined power of his martial training.

Both delivered a devastating, lightning-fast punch, connecting flush on the opponent’s cheek with a sickening, audible crack.

"Now that’s a punch!" Ayano grinned, "But that’s not enough!"

He pushed, and Seijirou’s eyes widened as he felt himself retreating from the force of his punch.

He stumbled a few steps back, his eyes still wide in shock. But he quickly calmed down, he stared at Ayano, face extremely serious.

He took a step forward, ready for another exchange, when his vision suddenly blurred, and he felt his legs go weak as he wobbled to the side.

’...What?’

*

*

*

In the secluded, unused service corridor of the school infirmary, Retsu watched with clinical detachment as her grandfather’s subordinates—a pair of tall, expressionless men in black suits—efficiently and silently dealt with the body of Hipuno Shisou.

They moved with professional speed, treating the ruined body as nothing more than contaminated material.

As one of the men carefully bagged the body, Retsu’s serene expression suddenly clouded over.

A faint, almost imperceptible frown creased her brow—a reaction entirely unrelated to the current cleanup.

She immediately distanced herself from the men, walking further down the hall to a secluded corner where she wouldn’t be overheard.

She took out her phone and, with a swift, practiced motion, inserted a pair of discreet, flesh-colored earphones.

The conversation that immediately streamed into her ears was the raw, live audio from her network of surveillance.

She had listened to the tail end of the verbal exchange between Seijirou and his current aggressor, Kirishima Ayano.

Yes, Retsu’s monitoring system was comprehensive, invasive, and absolute, but something she thinks is absolutely necessary.

She had meticulously placed microscopic tracking and listening devices in all of Seijirou’s clothing—his uniforms, his casual wear, even his pajamas—ensuring she had perfect, 24/7 awareness of everyone he interacted with.

Furthermore, she had hidden cameras throughout his house, recording every visitor and every moment of his private life.

These trackers served a dual purpose: they were her absolute assurance of his location and his safety, and they also acted as a vital early warning system.

These trackers were modified in a way that whenever Seijirou came into contact with a verifiable supernatural energy—be it Karyoku, residual demonic influence, or other occult phenomena—Retsu would receive an immediate, urgent notification.

"Kirishima Ayano," Retsu murmured softly to herself.

She knew the name well, as he was someone whose talent was recognised even by her grandfather.

He wasn’t just a skilled karate practitioner, but also, according to their information, had already flagged him as someone who had thoroughly mastered Karyoku.

He was operating at an advanced level, likely near the peak of what the human body could achieve through concentrated practice of the spiritual force.

Retsu’s serene expression hardened into deep concern.

At his current stage, based on her extensive analysis of his natural abilities and lack of Ki or Karyoku, Retsu knew that Seijirou was no match for someone like Ayano.

Seijirou was a formidable martial artist, capable of dealing with common thugs and even weaker, newly awakened Karyoku users, but facing someone who had integrated the power to the point of mastery was an entirely different matter.

It was mathematically impossible for him to win without an external intervention.

Without a second of delay, she quickly checked Seijirou’s precise location on her phone’s built-in map, the Risa Street, the building he was planning on turning into business establishment.

She need to hurry, as from the listening device, she have already learned that the fight had already started.

Retsu slipped her phone into her coat pocket as she quickly turned and strode back to the black-suited subordinates, her voice snapping with professional urgency.

"Take care of everything," she commanded, her voice cold and commanding. "File the accident report and ensure the body is sanitized before transit. I have something far more important that requires my immediate attention."

Without waiting for confirmation or reply, Retsu turned sharply and left the infirmary, her pace accelerating into a near-run as she headed for the quickest exit.

The fate of her most prized possession—Kageyama Seijirou—was currently being decided by a force she knew he could not yet defeat.

Intervention was no longer optional.