The full moon hung high in the night sky, bathing the rolling hills near Kuoh Town in a serene, silver light. On the crest of the highest hill, a lone figure stood, his silver hair waving in the gentle breeze. Loup Garou appeared to be the only soul for miles, a silent statue staring up at the glorious moon.
But he was not alone.
WHOOSH—
With a violent rush of wind, a massive, winged creature descended from the darkness with terrifying speed, landing with a ground-shaking thud that sent dust and loose stones skittering away. The wings, draconic and scaly, retracted seamlessly as the figure resolved into a young man.
"You're late, Hyoudou Izo," Garou said without turning, his voice as calm as the still night air.
"Cut the crap. What are you plotting?" Izo's tone was icy, his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he approached.
Garou finally turned, his expression unreadable. "Plotting? I'm merely observing a fascinating social experiment conducted by humans."
"Issei came home tonight covered in bruises and the scent of blood," Izo's voice dropped, each word laced with a dangerous pressure. "He has fought over half of your student's crew by now. You asked me to stay out of it, saying you'd handle the situation yourself. You requested the Sitri house to stand down, causing my master to face humiliation. I'm beginning to think you and that Principal are aiming for something specific here."
"My student is in a… rebellious phase," Garou stated, his voice holding a hint of apology.
RUSH!
Izo closed the ten-meter distance in a literal instant, his fist a blur aimed at Garou's head. Garou, senses preternaturally sharp, kicked off the ground just as Izo's fist arrived, evading the blow by a hair's breadth. The air itself seemed to crack in the aftermath, a miniature sonic boom echoing across the empty hill.
"You're trying to wake him up, aren't you?" Izo growled, landing silently, his body already coiled for another attack. "You're going against his orders under the pretense of dealing with your student, while using that foolish Principal as your shield."
Garou offered only his signature blank look. Annoyed by the silent confirmation, Izo turned his back as if to close the matter.
"I listened to your ridiculous request. I let my master lose face by ignoring your pet bully. That ends now, Garou. This is your final warning."
"...Aren't you curious, Izo?" Garou asked, his tone shifting into something more provoking.
The question stopped Izo in his tracks. "…What?" he asked, his voice tight.
"To see how strong you've become compared to back then?" Garou said, a strange, almost academic light in his eyes. "To see if he is still all that he was two years ago?"
Izo turned around slowly. The moonlight caught his face, and for a split second, his pupils seemed to dilate, sharpening into predatory, vertical slits.
"…How about I show you right now just how strong I've become?"
Glow.
His eyes ignited with a furious green light. With a roar that was more beast than man, he kicked off the ground, the very earth cracking under the force of his launch.
Garou's calm demeanor didn't break. He simply lowered his stance, crossing his arms in a defensive guard.
BOOM!
The impact was thunderous, a shockwave of force erupting from the point of contact. Garou was driven back several meters, his boots carving deep furrows in the dirt, but the cross-guard held firm against Izo's full-powered charge.
Glow.
Garou's own eyes now held a faint, pearlescent yellow light.
"Are you certain you wish to do this tonight?" he asked, his voice still unnervingly calm.
The full moon illuminated the two figures locked in a tense standstill.
Izo, pushing against Garou's guard, snarled, the green light in his eyes flaring. "You dare…"
He disengaged, leaping back to create distance. "Fine. You want to see what happens? Then go ahead. But when that creature you're so curious about goes out of control, it won't be just you who will pay the price for it," Izo's voice dropped to a deadly promise, "… And I will be the one to take your head, even if it means painting a target on my back for your entire damn family."
With a final, contemptuous glare, Izo spread his draconic wings and launched himself back into the night sky, disappearing into the darkness.
Garou stood alone on the hill once more, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips as he looked down towards the distant, glittering lights of Kuoh Town.
*************
*************
Issei couldn't sit still. He paced in the confines of his room, constantly drawn to the window's edge to peer down at the street, a knot of paranoia tightening in his gut with every passing car. He was half-expecting the flash of police lights at any moment.
BEEP.
He flinched, habitually snatching his phone. It was the informant. In the adrenaline-fueled aftermath of the playground, Issei had completely forgotten about his mysterious partner.
'I heard about what happened. Why did you do that?! Are you insane?!'
Issei's eyebrows raised slightly. He let out a slow breath.
'It was to teach them a lesson. I admit… I went a bit too far.'
'A bit too far?! You're lucky you haven't been arrested yet!'
Seeing no immediate reply, Gasper, huddled in his dark room across town, continued his frantic typing as a bead of sweat rolled down his face.
'Also, please don't tell me this was your actual plan. Just… a street brawl, I mean.'
'…Pretty much.'
'What?! You are going to just beat up the son of the Hiro family?!'
A heavy silence lingered on the other end. Issei's reply came a few moments later.
'Like I said. Pretty much.'
Gasper was baffled. He knew everyone wanted Issei to stand up to Hiro and fight him, but Hiro Satoru was the heir to Hiro Shōkai, a family with terrifying influence. Gasper had assumed Issei had a master plan, some clever way to use the intel to outmaneuver Hiro. He'd had his doubts after the brutal attack on Kisaragi Reina, but he'd rationalized it as a provocation. Now, after the playground massacre, he was learning the horrifying truth: there was no master plan. A school fight was the plan. Gasper was just a tool to help Issei pick his targets.
'Wait… so what were you going to do if you had successfully subdued Hiro Satoru? What happens after?'
Another moment of silence.
Ding.
'Probably get sent to Juvie.'
Gasper stared at the message, stunned. The casualness of it was baffling. Did Issei not understand what that meant for his future? Was he really this shortsighted?
'…this is just recklessly stupid.'
He typed it out, a flicker of betrayal stinging him. He had placed his trust in Issei to resolve this matter to help protect his master, Rias Gremory.
'What were you expecting?' came Issei's reply.
'L-Literally anything else! I thought you'd use my help to catch them in the act, to expose them to the public! Use the law!'
Issei let out a short, humorless laugh. The informant was logical, but naive. He typed back, his mind calm now, his usual pragmatic logic settling back in.
'Why do you think Hiro Satoru reigns so freely here?'
'B-Because his family is influential! Which is why we should bring public attention to it!'
'And you think they can't cover that up? Let's say your plan worked. What if one of his underlings comes up and say they were doing it behind his back? And that person takes the fall for everything. The news cycle moves on after a week. The Hiro family applies pressure, the law backs off, and we're left as the losers.'
Gasper remembered how Hiro always made sure he was almost never at the actual "scene" of the bullying.
'With that logic, isn't getting into trouble with the law an even WORSE idea for you?!'
'Only if it isn't worth the prize.'
Gasper waited, a sense of dread coiling in his stomach. 'What prize…?'
'What is the end goal of all of this?'
Issei paused. He typed out a single, concise sentence that explained everything, the core of his brutal, surgical strategy. He hit send.
…
Gasper read the reply. His blood ran cold. He flinched back from his monitor as if the screen would bite him. His fingers trembled as he typed.
'H-Hold on! Isn't that…?! That's going way too far! You can't do that!'
Issei read the panicked response, his expression unchanging. He'd expected this. Average people couldn't stomach his logic...
He typed one last message: 'I don't think there is a need for us to associate any longer. You were a huge help.'
Before Gasper could reply, Issei turned off his phone and tossed it onto his desk. He'd said too much as it was.
He walked to the window again, dreading the sight of police cars. Hours had passed. It bugged him, why wasn't Hiro using his most obvious weapon? His influence? Not that he was complaining. He would gladly use this window of opportunity to see his plan through to the end.
*************
THE NEXT DAY
*************
The morning air in the Hyoudou household was thick with a familiar, suffocating silence. Issei came downstairs to find his parents and Izo already at the breakfast table, their movements stiff, their expressions like stone. His father's glare seemed barely to contain his cold fury. His mother's disappointment was a cold front, chilling the room.
"We received a call last night," his father finally said, his voice flat. "From the parents of a boy named Endou Masahiro. Apparently, he's in the hospital."
Issei continued eating, not meeting his gaze.
"I thought we were clear," his father continued, the pressure in his voice rising. "No more of your old antics. This isn't Sendou, Issei. You are technically an adult now… If you keep this up..."
They will kick me out.
Issei didn't argue. He didn't defend himself. He finished his meal in silence, stood up, and said, "Thanks for the food." He walked out, leaving their cold fury behind him. Their disapproval was nothing new and at this point, Issei was already past caring.
************
At School
************
The atmosphere at the school gate was stiff with tension. Hiro Satoru was there, waiting. As Issei appeared, the usual morning chatter died instantly. A bubble of tense silence formed around them as every student stopped, their breath held.
Issei met Hiro's cold, emerald gaze. They held the stare for a long, charged moment.
Then, Hiro took a few deliberate steps back, turned, and walked away without a word.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by a wave of reactions that split the student body in two.
For the students of Class 2-C, who had been the direct targets of Hiro's harassment, it was a blinding ray of hope. Things had started changing starting since yesterday, and this felt like a confirmation.
But for the rest of the school, it was something else: liberation. For a week, they had lived under a leaking umbrella of conditional safety, knowing Hiro's focus on 2-C was temporary. But news had rapidly spread that Issei took down half of Hiro's gang by himself. Seeing Hiro Satoru publicly back down like this felt like the end of a year-long ordeal. A giddy, triumphant atmosphere began to gush out, spreading through the student body. They believed Hiro was backing down from further conflict.
Issei's gaze followed Hiro's retreating form, unimpressed. To him, it was simple: this just wasn't the right place to fight.
*************
*************
The strange day continued.
In Class 2-C, the atmosphere was one of cautious optimism. They clung to the memory of what the student body now referred to as the "Izo Precedent." Last year, Hyoudou Izo had single-handedly defeated a unit of Hiro's crew, just like Issei did. Instead of the expected all-out war, Hiro had started avoiding Izo altogether, never bothering him again. However this time, it felt like Hiro might be backing down from bullying altogether for good, seeing how he isn't starting any fights with other students.
"Issei, man, where did you learn to fight like that?" Motohama asked, his voice a hushed whisper of awe.
"I heard you took down Endou's entire unit!" Matsuda added.
Issei shot a brief, pointed glare in Aizawa's direction, who immediately flinched and looked away. The naive hope on his classmates' faces was beginning to bother him.
*************
It happened again during the lunch break. Issei and Hiro's paths crossed near the vending machines. The hallway held its breath. Hiro gave him a blank look and moved aside, letting him use the machine first. This time, the reaction was more pronounced, as if a dam of suppressed feelings was starting to break. A few bold students from other classes let out open, mocking laughs at Hiro's back.
A dangerous sentiment began to permeate the school: 'Hyoudou Issei wiped out half of Hiro's gang by himself! There's nothing left to fear.'
Issei's unease grew. He was sure Hiro wasn't the type to let this slide. It was only a matter of time.
*************
RINGGGG!
At last the final bell came. As evening approached, the false sense of victory in Class 2-C was at its peak. Students chatted and laughed as they packed their bags.
Just then, a nervous-looking first-year appeared at their classroom door.
"Is Hyoudou Issei here?" he squeaked. "A teacher has requested you to come to the staff room. They want to talk about… what happened yesterday evening."
A hush fell over the classroom. The celebratory mood evaporated.
"Oh, shit, man. What are you gonna do?" Matsuda asked, his voice low.
"Should we go with you?" Motohama added, his expression grim.
The growing sense of unease clawed at Issei's neck, "No," he said, his voice firm. "Go home, as quickly as you can."
The duo looked unsure, but Issei was already grabbing his bag and following the first-year out. As he left, murmurs erupted behind him.
'Must be because of yesterday…'
'Well he did go crazy…'
'Are they going to punish him?'
'Did Hiro not do anything today because he knew this would happen?'
'What should we do?'
A few students from 2-C waited for a couple of minutes, a knot of doubt in their stomachs. But they were the students of Kuoh Academy, which boasted top academic scores every year. Most of the students attended cram schools, leaving them no choice but to eventually leave, hoping for the best.
"Aizawa, you are not coming?"
"…"
*************
Issei followed the first-year for several minutes, a growing sense of suspicion coiling in his gut. The boy informed him that the teacher wasn't in the main staff room, but in a smaller one in the Old Annex Building. As they walked, droves of students were leaving, some casting suspicious glances their way.
"Hey, first-year," Issei said, his tone flat. "What's really going on?"
The boy flinched. "Th-there's a small staff room on the top floor. This teacher just asked me to fetch you."
"Then why are we taking the stairs?" Issei asked, noting the nearby elevator.
"U-uh, it's packed with students going down… it would be too slow," the boy stammered, avoiding eye contact.
Issei's frown deepened. He remembered this building from the info the informant had provided. He didn't doubt there was a staff room, but the entire situation felt like…
'Is that teacher going to threaten me?' was the thought that went through his mind as he stopped in front of the staff room door on the sixth floor. The first-year who had escorted him was panting heavily from the climb.
"Th-there, you can meet him," the boy said, pointing to a man in a pale blue shirt reading a document in the corner. A few other staff members were present, their eyes turning to Issei with suspicion.
"I have cram classes, so if you'll excuse me…" The first-year practically fled towards the elevator.
Issei ignored the stares and approached the man. "You called for me, sir?"
The man in blue looked up, bewildered. "No…? I'm a non-teaching staff member…"
"…"
*************
The first-year jabbed the button for the ground floor, anxiously waiting for the elevator doors to close. When they finally opened downstairs, his momentary relief vanished. Hyoudou Issei was there, waiting for him.
WHAM!
"So, what's the big idea?" Issei demanded in an icy tone, shoving his junior hard against the wall, ignoring the onlookers.
"Eeek! You're hurting me!" the boy cried, struggling in Issei's iron grip.
"… That was my intention," Issei said in a low voice. "Now answer."
"I was only doing what I was told, okay?!" the first-year blurted out, tears welling in his eyes. "He asked me to!"
Badump.
A dark, exhilarating thrill shot through Issei's heart.
He didn't need to ask who 'he' was… It wasn't over yet.
"Why did he ask you to do this?"
"I don't know! He asked me to stall you for as long as possible! To make you walk up all those stairs!"
"Where is—"
"HYOUDOU!"
A familiar voice cut through the tension. Kagami Aizawa skidded around the corner, his chest heaving as if he'd run a marathon.
"They… huff… cafeteria…" he gasped. "Motohama and Matsuda…"
*************
As Issei raced towards the cafeteria, a familiar, hot rush flooded his senses. The school grounds were relatively less crowded now; most students had left. He had told the duo to do the same...
He skidded to a halt at the cafeteria entrance, the sight before him a chilling confirmation of what Aizawa just said. Motohama and Matsuda were on the floor, beaten horribly, lying at the feet of a calm, seated Hiro Satoru who stared at him icily. The entire remaining force of Hiro's gang—Toru, Kenji, and at least twenty others, stood like statues, waiting for him, spread out in the cafeteria. Students who had stayed behind for club activities were now unable to leave, forced to become an audience.
Everyone knew what was about to happen. Issei's gaze swept over the thugs glaring at him, then landed back on the unconscious duo. A sharp twinge of guilt pierced through him.
But as much as he hated to admit it, another, darker emotion was already trying to eclipse his guilt.
Relief.
Not because he thought the duo were in a better condition than he'd hoped, but because Hiro Satoru, despite all his theatrics today, had finally stopped posturing and chosen to be the villain again.
… So, he didn't have to feel guilty for what he was about to do.
*************
In the warm, wood-paneled elegance of the Occult Research Club room, Rias Gremory was reviewing a feedback from a contractor, the scent of Akeno's freshly brewed coffee hanging in the air. Kiba was scribbling something in a notebook in a table in the corner while Koneko quietly munched on a chocolate bar.
"Buchou!"
The door burst open, and Murayama, the kendo club captain, and also a member of the ORC, stood there, chest heaving, her usual composure gone.
"In the cafeteria! They…"
*************
"SONA-KAICHOU!"
Sona Sitri, who had been methodically reviewing budget proposals with her Vice President, Tsubaki, looked up with a sharp, questioning gaze as Saji skidded to a halt in the student council doorway.
"What is it, Saji?" she asked, her already serious face somehow turning even more serious, sensing the urgency in his voice.
"Hyoudou Issei and Hiro's gang! They…" Saji gasped, his face pale.
*************
Far across the cafeteria, leaning against a back wall and half-hidden by a pillar, Hyoudou Izo watched the scene unfold with an unnerving stillness.
'It's starting, Ddraig,' he thought, his gaze fixed on his older brother.
He seemed to be talking to an imaginary person, but in reality, he was conversing with the Heavenly Dragon sealed within his Sacred Gear.
'What do you think?' he asked internally. He listened for a moment, a frown creasing his brow.
'Really? You think his stands a chance?' Izo questioned, his eyes flicking from Issei's tense, out of breath posture to the calm, confident figure of Hiro Satoru.
'… I admit, he is smarter than I initially assessed. He went after his only visible weakness…'
*************
High above, outside the school grounds entirely, another observer watched, though not with his own eyes. Loup Garou stood on the rooftop of a nearby building, the wind whipping at his silver hair. His eyes were closed, but he saw everything with perfect clarity through the senses of his familiar, a small, unseen creature perched high in the cafeteria's rafters.
He saw Hiro, his student, standing with his new, dangerous confidence. He saw the slightly of breath form of Hyoudou Issei.
He then focused on his student Hiro. His desperate will to win and prove himself was palpable even from here.
'Let's see, shall we?'
*************
The tense silence of the cafeteria shattered. On Hiro's unspoken command, the floor erupted with the sound of scraping furniture and guttural shouts as over twenty third-years surged forward, a wave of bodies intent on drowning Hyoudou Issei.
Issei's irises flared with a faint blue light. Cold air rushed into his lungs as he felt strength and a wave of calmness rushing in his body.
Hiro's men began to fan out, spreading to surround him and limit his movements. But before their circle could close, Issei exploded forward.
He vaulted sideways over a table, the legs of chairs clattering uselessly behind him as hands clawed at empty air. He landed lightly, rolling across a bench and using the momentum to spring up onto another table, gaining a momentary height advantage.
"Get him!" a voice roared.
Issei launched himself from the tabletop, barreling straight into the nearest senior. His shoulder drove into the man's sternum like a battering ram, throwing him off balance. From the side, a fist swung for his head. Issei slipped inside the punch by inches, feeling the wind of it across his cheek, and punished the opening instantly. His knee slammed into the senior's exposed gut.
WHAM!
Not wasting a second of momentum, Issei shoved the winded thug forward, directly into the line of movement he sensed from another attacker approaching from the side.
Issei bounded sideways, aiming to jump onto another table. Predicting it, another person closed distance but-
RUSH!
Issei went acrobatic. In a move that defied expectation, his palms smacked down flat on the table, not to vault over it, but to use it as a platform. He whipped out a powerful, spinning hook kick that sent the intercepting senior flying.
He landed in a low crouch, his chest heaving slightly. He took a sharp, controlled breath, his blue-lit eyes scanning, assessing the shifting distances and the possible options of his remaining enemies. He used the obstacles of the cafeteria to funnel the movement of the pack, while picking out targets he could take out one by one.
From his blindside, a fist sliced through the air. The glow in his eyes sharpened. He pivoted, intercepting the punch with the point of his elbow. The attacker hissed in pain as he felt his fist cracking against Issei's elbow. Before the man could even process the agony in his shattered hand—
WHAM!
A brutal punch met his throat, and his lights went out.
"Hold him!" someone barked from the rear.
Two of the bigger seniors charged in together, abandoning technique for brute force, their fists swinging wildly. Issei didn't meet their charge head-on. He slid sideways like a phantom, his ribs barely brushing one of the incoming fists, and drove a short, vicious kick straight into the heavier one's kneecap.
CRACK.
The man collapsed with a guttural howl, his bulk toppling directly into his partner's path. The second senior, showing surprising agility, managed to sidestep his falling comrade—only for Issei to spin with the recoil of his kick, his heel snapping across the man's jaw. A tooth flew and he collapsed, out cold before he hit the ground.
***********
Tables rattled, trays clattered to the floor.
From the sidelines, a captive audience of students watched, rooted to the spot. Even those who had witnessed Issei's first rampage in this very hall couldn't believe what they were seeing now. The sheer speed and efficiency created a strange sense of unreality, as if they were watching a scene from a hyper-violent action movie. The hulking form of Toru, however, standing guard at the edge of the chaos and glaring daggers at them, was a grim reminder that this was all too real.
His gaze was particularly sharp on Aizawa, whose own attention was once again captivated by Issei's fighting style.
'There is no doubt about it… He's even stronger than Nii-chan…' Aizawa thought, a knot of awe and fear tightening in his stomach. 'But, at this rate…'
***********
"Im-impossible…" Katase murmured, her eyes wide. The newly arrived members of the Occult Research Club watched the scene, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief.
Koneko's lips were slightly parted, her usual stoicism broken. She saw Issei intercepting a punch from his blindside as if he'd been looking in that direction the entire time. Even with her sharpened senses, she was unable to sense anything from him. There was no Ki, demonic power or sacred gear activation she could sense from him.
Akeno's face wore a look of genuine, thrilling interest. Her eyes shook slightly.
"Kiba-kun… Is this what you meant when you said he was unusual?"
However, Kiba's mouth wasn't agape with shock; his brows were furrowed in deep, analytical confusion. He had been the one who strongly believed in the possibility that Issei was more than he seemed. That he too might very well be 'special'. However, just like Tojou Koneko, he couldn't feel anything special from Issei. He was witnessing a display of combat prowess that should be impossible for a normal human, yet the very energy he had eagerly hoped to sense was completely absent. This instilled mixed emotions within him.
He shook his head slowly at Akeno's question, his eyes never leaving Issei's fluid, brutal movements.
"This is my first time witnessing him fight first hand," Kiba admitted, his voice a low, perplexed whisper. "But I don't understand. The skill, the speed, the sheer destructive power that can knock out someone with one blow… it's all there. But..."
His voice trailed off.
Rias Gremory stood at the forefront, her regal composure a thin veil over the storm of thoughts raging within her. All her initial guilt about this situation, all her strategic calculations, had evaporated the moment the fight began.
'Last time, he said he was sick,' she thought, the memory of his words now crystal clear.
It felt like, right now, she could believe that one hundred percent. Seeing the fluid, terrifying difference between his previous, fever-fueled struggle and this cold, efficient display, that is the only logical conclusion.
'This power… this combat sense… all in a human with a 'dead' Sacred Gear…'
For a fleeting moment, a powerful instinct flared within her… the instinct of a King or the desire of the devil.
'… I must have him in my peerage.'
She shook her head, forcing the thought away, focusing. His fighting style was incredible, but he was still just one person against a mob. Her gaze swept the room, spotting Hyoudou Izo in a far corner, then landing on Aizawa and the menacing form of Toru Inukai.
"No one is stepping in to help him…" she said, a worried frown creasing her brow. She didn't blame them; she herself was hamstrung by Shirogane's influence. But she wished something would make the whole conflict a bit fair, because at this rate…
"You noticed it too, didn't you, Rias?"
A familiar, calm voice cut through her thoughts. Sona Sitri had arrived, her Student Council members filing in silently behind her.
"Sona…"
Sona's sharp eyes scanned the chaotic cafeteria, her expression grim. "None of the students, not even a single staff member, has thought to call the police to this moment. Of course, even if they did, even if this many witnesses claim otherwise, the one who would be arrested for this incident will be Hyoudou Issei."
"Woah…" Genshirou Saji whispered, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The other council members shared his awe.
"Kaichou, what should we do?" Tsubaki Shinra asked, her voice steady as always.
"We watch," Sona replied coolly, her gaze flicking towards a security camera mounted high on a nearby wall. "Isn't that what he wanted?"
***********
In the principal's office, Shirogane Kazuro leaned forward in his chair, his expression unreadable as he watched the live feed from the cafeteria, his fingers steepled before him.
***********
What percentage of people possess the ability to fight against multiple opponents? One in a thousand? In a million?
A human's vision only covers about 200°, with real depth perception in just 120°—meaning blind spots are unavoidable. Reaction time averages 0.2 seconds; fine against one strike, but if three come from different angles in the same instant, the nervous system can only process one.
Fighting more than one opponent isn't just "hard"; past a certain point, it's biologically impossible. Even untrained punches carry 150–200 lbs of force, and with 10–20 attackers, some are bound to hit. One clean shot to the head or ribs is enough to cripple or knock someone out. Fatigue builds fast—most athletes gas out in 2–3 minutes of high output. Once the numbers pile on, even a single grab can end the fight instantly.
That's why martial artists say one opponent is doable, two is dangerous, and three is already desperate. Against 10, survival is a statistical miracle; against 20, you'd be lucky to come out alive. The math, physics, and biology all say the same thing: no single human can track that many angles, endure that much punishment, or move with that much efficiency. It's fundamentally beyond human.
And yet, Hyoudou Issei had done it. Multiple times.
He had taken on their gang head-on and came out victorious in the previous fight in this very cafeteria. And as unbelievable it was, the fight had been one sided. Hiro Satoru had seen it with his own eyes. It was almost as if Hyoudou Issei had eyes on the back of his head. Combined with his deadly kicks which he experienced first hand, 'numbers' didn't seem to matter to him.
However, Hiro Satoru was sharper than Issei gave him credit for. No matter how sharp his kicks, no matter how terrifying his awareness, Issei was, at the end of the day; still a creature of flesh. And all living creatures were chained to the same truth: stamina eventually runs out.
That was why Hiro had forced a trembling first-year to lure Issei up six flights of stairs before the fight. Even better, as he had hoped, Issei had run all the way back down.
He'd scheduled the fight for the evening, after most students had left for cram school. He wasn't that worried about other classes, whom he had left alone for about a week, only 2-C, due to Endou's report. A fight in front of all the students here was the most ideal scenario.
Causing trouble openly like this would cause him problems with the Principal, but it was a risk Hiro was willing to take to get rid of Hyoudou Issei. If nothing else, once Hyoudou Issei went on a rampage, that could be used against him. He could force the staff to file complaints and push for his expulsion.
The situation, no matter how it turned out, was guaranteed to be in his favor. However, getting beaten by one person was not an ideal scenario. He would never be able to live it down. Therefore, today, right here, right now, he has to subdue this monster. Unforeseen variables were unacceptable, which is why Toru was assigned to make sure no pests from Class 2-C could interfere.
As Hiro watched the unfolding fight from a safe distance with Kenji, a small smirk crept into face.
***********
'Trying to drain my stamina with numbers, huh?' Issei thought, ducking a wild chair swing.
Targeting the knee to throw the attacker off balance, Issei used the attacker's momentum to pivot. His arm snaked around the man's neck and shoved him face-first into the table edge.
CRACK!
The man's hands went limp.
Issei's heel snapped out, catching another charging thug just above the knee. The man screamed and crumpled.
Sensing multiple hands trying to grab him, Issei vaulted onto a table. As his seniors closed in, his hand flicked out almost casually, snatching up a glass from the clutter. Without pause, he whipped it across the room —
*SHATTER*
The glass shattered against a senior's face, spraying shards as the man reeled back. The unexpected, vicious act made everyone flinch for a crucial moment, giving Issei the time he needed to leap from the table and re-establish his space.
***********
Issei stood amidst the wreckage and groaning bodies, his breathing now visibly ragged. Sweat dripped down his face, his body weary with exhaustion. Even so, it wasn't a sight that brought a smile to Hiro Satoru's face. Hyoudou Issei had just knocked out over twenty of his men. The sheer impossibility of it felt alien.
"…I'll handle this," Ryugasaki Kenji said, stepping forward to buy Hiro more time. When Hiro moved to stop him, Kenji's expression was firm. "Let me do my part."
A new kind of tension fell over the cafeteria. The chaotic roar of the mob fight subsided into a heavy, focused silence. It was not because they were interested in Issei vs Kenji, but because of the inevitable confrontation that would follow.
"I admit you are strong—" Kenji began, trying to sound confident.
"You sure about this?" Issei interrupted, taking a slow, deep breath that was both for recovery and for show. Kenji's face soured.
"Don't get ahead of yourself."
"Well, I guess a break wouldn't be bad right now," Issei taunted, a slight, mocking grin on his lips. He gestured for Kenji to come.
"You—!"
Kenji, though not a brawler like Toru or Endou, was a cut above the thugs Issei had just dispatched. His strength was his brain.
'Don't fall for his taunts,' Kenji told himself, his strategic brain kicking in. 'He's trying to buy time to recover.'
He wouldn't let him.
Kenji rushed, closing the distance, positioning himself just outside Issei's optimal kicking range. He was wary, anticipating a kick, his body tensed for a quick counter.
He and Hiro had devised this stamina-draining strategy. However… they didn't see one crucial oversight in this plan.
'Morale.'
The crushing sight of Issei tearing through their ranks, combined with the lingering memory of Aizawa's unexpected intervention at the playground—and his very presence here in the cafeteria—had already planted a seed of doubt in him. Hiro's decision to fight today, and to do so in the very place where Issei had once defeated them, only made it grow.
'If we lose here…' The thought was a cold weight in his gut. His only reassurance was the backup plan: manipulate the narrative, make Issei the villain, and if all else failed, involve their families—even if Hiro would hate him for it.
Steeling himself, Kenji prepared to re-engage.
RUSH!
This time, Issei charged first. Kenji reacted instantly, delivering a quick jab to halt his momentum and then stepping back. Issei lifted his leg slightly, a clear telegraph for a kick. Kenji braced.
Glow… Step.
With his eyes glowing blue, Issei feinted the kick and stepped in for an unexpected back fist to Kenji's face.
Struggling to keep his vision, Kenji saw the follow-up coming too late. A devastating combo—an elbow, then a knee. He managed to get his arm up, barely blocking the knee in time.
WHAM!
The impact was far beyond anything Kenji had ever imagined. He was driven back several steps, a violent, electrifying pain exploding from his forearm up to his shoulder.
Issei didn't follow up. He simply stood there, breathing steadily, waiting.
'This… this!' Kenji's entire arm had gone numb, a deep, throbbing ache radiating from the point of impact. He felt like he couldn't close his fist, 'No… is it fractured…?!'
For the first time, a genuine, cold fear gripped the normally level-headed Kenji.
'So this is what the guys were dealing with…?'
As if tired of waiting, Issei casually dug a hand into his pocket, his icy stare never leaving Kenji.
Pulling himself together, Kenji tried to ignore the searing pain, shifting his stance to protect his arm.
"Your second-in-command seems to have a lot on his mind," Issei said, his voice flat, his gaze directed past Kenji, straight at Hiro. "If you think I've had enough warm-up, how about we get this over with?"
The direct provocation made Hiro's eyebrow twitch.
"…Stand back, Kenji." Hiro Satoru removed his blazer, his well-built, athletic frame, honed over the past year, was now apparent even through his uniform shirt.
"But—" Kenji started, but the words died in his throat. He had frozen up, paralyzed by the unexpected agony in his arm. He was no match for Hyoudou Issei. It was a humiliating, undeniable truth.
With a grimace, Kenji retreated to the back, cradling his injured arm.
***
**
*
It was as if every other activity in the crowded cafeteria had ceased to exist. The panicked whispers, the frantic search for a teacher willing to intervene—all of it faded into a muted backdrop. A few staff members had indeed arrived, but they hovered uselessly at the edge of the crowd, clearly unwilling to step into the middle of the carnage. No one had dared called the police.
All eyes were now fixed on the two figures at the center of the wreckage. They had no choice but to watch the final confrontation between Hyoudou Issei and Hiro Satoru.
From his hidden vantage point, Loup Garou leaned forward slightly, even his usual blank visage unable to hide his excitement.
Step… Step…
Hyoudou Issei advanced, his one hand still casually tucked into his pocket, his pace almost leisurely.
They came to a halt a few meters apart. Hiro Satoru settled into a low, fluid boxing stance, preparing himself. Issei just stood there, relaxed, almost indifferent.
"…Get into position," Hiro said, curtly.
"Hah…" A short, mocking laugh was Issei's only reply.
A vein bulged on Hiro's forehead. He exploded forward, closing the distance, his guard held high. He unleashed a flurry—a snapping double jab, followed by a hard cross—pressing Issei relentlessly, giving him no space to set up one of his trademark kicks. He was wary of a surprise attack, such as a spinning back kick, but he was confident that if he could force this into a close-quarters boxing match, he could eventually come out on top.
Issei took rapid, measured backward steps, his footwork matching Hiro's aggressive pace. He weaved under a jab aimed at his body, his agility still seemingly untouched by fatigue.
Just as an overturned table forced Issei to slow his retreat for a fraction of a second, Hiro sensed his chance. He lunged, closing the gap, putting all his weight behind a heavy, fight-ending cross.
But Issei moved at the same time—not away, but into the punch.
Graze.
The blow whistled past his ear, narrowly missing its mark. Inside Hiro's guard, Issei's free hand shot out of his pocket.
Gleam.
Hiro barely registered the glint of metal before—
CRAAAACKKKKKK!
The impact was sickeningly loud, a wet, cracking sound that echoed through the now dead-silent cafeteria. Hiro Satoru was knocked clean off his feet, his eyes rolling back in his head before he even began to fall.
...
Thud.
He landed on his back with the heavy, final sound of an felled tree.
Drip…
Blood dripped from the brass knuckles now fitted snugly on Issei's hand. The sheer, brutal finality of the one-punch knockout had rendered everyone speechless.
Issei stood over him, panting slightly, a grim look on his face.
"Ever heard the quote? 'Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.'"
This wasn't the first time he'd dealt with a stamina-draining strategy, and it was always irritating. Issei was tired—more than usual. He hadn't planned to end things so quickly, but with Hiro's tactics grating on his nerves and his own energy running low, he went for a quick, drity knockout. Besides… a move like this was bound to spark a strong reaction.
He slowly turned to face the crowd. A wave of stunned excitement began to bloom. Something unbelievable, something impossible, had just happened. Hiro Satoru was down.
Aizawa's mouth was wide open, the image of Issei single-handedly turning the tide now permanently burned into his memory. A weight he didn't even know he was carrying lifted from his chest. Kenji and Toru stared in horror, their faces pale with disbelief.
In the ORC group, Rias's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Sona Sitri appeared genuinely shocked, her analytical mind stunned by the sudden, brutal climax.
"Hmph."
From his corner, Hyoudou Izo let out a short, sharp scoff as if saying, 'as expected'. He turned to leave as his presence was no longer needed here.
*************
An awkward silence hung in the air.
'What now?'
Hiro Satoru had been defeated. This was uncharted territory. Everyone knew Issei was in trouble; expulsion was very likely. But Hiro would recover, his family's influence washing everything away in a week or two. A single victory like this… in the end, what did it really amount to?
"Hey… what is he doing?" a student whispered.
Heads turned. Issei was looming over Hiro Satoru's unconscious body. He stepped on Hiro's left elbow joint, pinning it to the floor, then reached for his hand.
"Wait…"
"Hold up!"
Panic rippled through the onlookers.
"Surely not…" Saji's voice trailed off, his eyes wide.
*************
'To cripple Hiro's arm.'
His own words to the informant echoed in his mind as his hands closed around Hiro's. A faint ringing filled his ears. A simple break wasn't enough. It had to be permanent, a powerful wrench and twist that would ensure the joint could never fully recover.
If this were a drama, a clean defeat in a fight would be enough to break a bully's spirit. But this was reality. Hyoudou Issei and Hiro Satoru were not equals. Hiro had Hiro Shōkai, a giant that is capable of ruining his life on a whim. The "drama" plotline would be to endure, bide his time for years, and challenge that giant later after he became successful. But if that meant wearing a mask, becoming another nameless background character now; Issei would rather die. In fact, why should he?
His grip tightened around Hiro's hand.
In this moment, he was the one towering over Hiro Satoru. His talent in combat had carved out a stage few could ever touch. And because of that, only he had the right—the recklessness—to end Hiro's gangster career before it could even begin.
Gangsters wear tattoos and scars for one reason: intimidation.
'A boxer with a crippled arm.'
A perfectly ruined image.
This is it. He would not let someone like Hiro walk all over him.
A flicker of doubt passed through his mind as he thought of Motohama and Matsuda, lying unconscious nearby. 'I wonder what they'll think when they find out what I did…'
He steadied himself.
Perhaps sensing the pressure on his pinned joint, Hiro's eyes fluttered open. It took him less than two seconds to register the terrifying reality of the situation.
"What are you— HOLD ON! WAIT!"
"Sorry," Issei said, his voice low.
'This is the only way I know.'
RUSH! TACKLE!
Issei was slammed from the side by a sudden, heavy impact.
"DON'T FUCK WITH ME, BASTARD!!" Kenji roared, struggling to push Issei off Hiro.
But Issei held his ground, his weight pressed firmly down. Kenji, fueled by adrenaline, shoved with surprising strength, but it wasn't enough. Issei drove a crushing elbow into his exposed back.
"Keurgh!"
As Kenji staggered, Issei grabbed his head and slammed his face into the tiled floor with a sickening crunch. Just as he thought it was over—
A fist filled his vision.
"!!!"
For the first time since what felt like forever—
WHAAAAMMM!!!!
Hyoudou Issei couldn't react in time.
CRASH!
He was sent flying, a sharp pain exploding in his head as he crashed through a nearby table.
…
..
.
From heart to my fists.
From heart to my feet.
From heart to my eyes.
Finally, a direct line was forged between my heart and my mind...
Hiro Satoru, standing there with his fist still outstretched, slowly opened his eyes. His emerald green irises were now glowing fiercely.
***
The students recoiled at the sight of Hiro back on his feet. In the wreckage, Hyoudou Issei lay unmoving.
In the back, Hyoudou Izo froze, his stoic mask finally cracking, his own eyes going wide in disbelief. Kiba stood rigid, mirroring Izo's reaction.
"That is…!" Kiba breathed.
Koneko tilted her head, her senses picking up the strange, overwhelming energy. "This pressure..."
"Sona… isn't that…?" Rias whispered, her voice tight with a new, dawning horror.
Sona Sitri couldn't respond, her analytical mind stunned into silence.
'Unbelievable…' Her gaze snapped to the security camera, her own heart pounding.
'No way…'
THUMP… THUMP
'Was he aiming for this... all along?'
"Kiba… I'm not tripping, am I?" Saji asked, his voice a low, trembling whisper.
Kiba could only shake his head, his eyes locked on Hiro. His prediction had come true. The raw, untamed power leaking from Hiro Satoru was unmistakable. A phenomenon few had ever witnessed firsthand.
'Intent.'
Far away, perched on his hidden vatange point, Loup Garou smirked.
--------------------------------------
CHAPTER 9: The King's Gambit- END
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IMPORTANT NOTICE:
NEXT CHAPTER coming out in about 24-48 hours after this chapter is released. The finale of this arc is already finished. Almost an equally lengthy chapter. Just editing right now. Together they are like what- 15-16k words....
Now where was I the whole time? Why so late? Well, I went down a rabbit hole... I will ramble at the end of next chapter.