It wasn't just Kisaki Tetta silently complaining to himself—Kuroda and the others were all mentally screaming too.
But no matter how frustrated they were, nobody dared voice it out loud.
Who the hell gave you guys the guts to badmouth our boss like that?
Just as Hatake Gorou's mood had started to improve, a wicked grin twisted across his face.
For a delinquent, what could be more natural than getting into a brawl after a joyride? Ride, fight, ride, fight… Man, this was the good life.
Boss was right—screw romance, that crap's for dogs.
Real men should fight to the sound of roaring engines!
Of course, Gorou had no idea if his boss had ever actually said that. But it sounded cool, so he decided he had.
"You bastard! You think you're senior material? Go chug some gasoline first!"
He shouted with a years-honed tongue roll, cracking his knuckles as he stomped over to stand behind Kyousuke.
"Man, I really didn't want to get into a fight on such a nice day," Kuroda muttered with a helpless smile as he followed.
"What the hell are you saying? A good day is the perfect day for a fight!" Ryoma Mitsuhashi snapped back.
With a loud clack, Mitsuhashi ripped a metal pipe off his bike.
It wasn't that he was stupidly strong—it had been modified to come off easily.
Only an idiot would go into a brawl barehanded.
Just look at the other side—they'd already pulled out wooden bats and pipes.
This was the unspoken rule of the delinquent world.
Sure, their vocabulary was limited, but that didn't stop them from using their mouths to signal the start of a brawl.
"Seriously? These little punks want to fight us?" Shintarou burst out laughing, looking like he'd just seen a bunch of clowns.
"What is this, a high school Boy Scout troop? Who do they think they are?" sneered a mohawked guy in a sleeveless vest.
"Let's not underestimate them," said a woman in a red techwear jacket who had been trying to de-escalate earlier. "They're from Tokyo. I heard there's a gang there called the 'Rampaging Angels'—supposedly really powerful."
"You mean that 'Handless Demon'?" Shintarou waved her off with a smirk. "Don't worry. Tokyo delinquents are all soft. No need to lose sleep over 'em."
But while Shintarou didn't care, someone behind him clearly did.
A guy holding a metal baseball bat suddenly tensed up.
"Hey, Shintarou… maybe we should check first. That 'Handless Demon' guy is rumored to be able to take out a hundred men alone! If these guys really are his underlings, we might be starting a war here!"
"Seriously, Suda?" Shintarou glared at his friend. "You buy into those dumb urban legends too?"
"Yeah, right. 'Handless Demon,' 'Dullahan,' 'Unfeeling Ladykiller,' 'The Grim Reaper'... only Tokyo cowards make up lame crap like that."
"Exactly. Here in Gunma, we're cut from tougher stuff. If you're scared of something like that, your mom would cry, Suda."
"Hey! 'Remote region' doesn't mean we should be proud of how backwater we are, you moron!"
"Wait, really? I thought it meant we were super mysterious."
"It's not an urban legend!" Suda shouted, cutting them off. "My little brother's studying in Tokyo—he saw it with his own eyes!
This guy was covered in black flames straight outta hell, wielding a bamboo sword that could slice steel!
Didn't matter if it was fifty or a hundred opponents—they all got their arms broken!"
"He's the second leader of the Rampaging Angels. The Handless Demon!"
They didn't get it.
No matter how much time passed, Suda could never forget the fear on his brother's face when he told the story.
He had clutched his long-healed wrist tightly, forehead drenched in sweat, expression twisted in sheer horror.
"That man… he's not human. He's a demon!"
Suda's words stunned everyone into momentary silence… which quickly gave way to explosive laughter.
"OI, listen to yourself! You actually believe that?"
"Seriously, if that guy was real, he'd have already taken over Gunma too. No way he'd still be playing gangster in Tokyo."
"Yeah, Suda. You're just too soft."
They were laughing—but Shintarou wasn't.
He knew Suda wasn't the type to make stuff up.
He pushed past the people in front of him and looked toward the high schooler chatting away with the bombshell in the black leather jacket, as if totally unaware of the situation.
'This bastard. Just looking at him pisses me off.'
'Does he seriously not realize we're talking about him? Arrogant little shit.'
Breathing heavily, Shintarou raised a finger and pointed at the boy.
"Hey, kid. I don't care about that make-believe 'Rampaging Angels' crap, but just in case, lemme ask—are you one of that so-called Handless Demon's men?
Got any connection to him at all? If you do, speak up now and apologize—get on your knees and beg. Maybe I'll be nice enough to let you off."
"Otherwise, your parents are gonna be real sad when they visit you in the hospital tomorrow."
The schoolboy in uniform stared back, utterly baffled, while Shintarou puffed out his chest like it had two grapefruits stuffed in it.
Not because he was interested in the disgustingly handsome kid—but because the sexy beauty next to him was now glancing this way.
'Yeah, that's right.'
'A woman like her belongs with a real man—strong and gentle, like me.'
'What's so great about some baby-faced pretty boy? Come on over, babe.'
He plastered on what he thought was a dashing smile and barked, "If you don't wanna get your ass kicked, start talking, brat!"
Yeah… even if you gotta lie, just say something.
I'm not wasting my precious night on this crap.
A night like this is meant to be spent with a beautiful woman!
Unfortunately for him, Shintarou didn't say that last part out loud. If he had, maybe someone would've gone easier on him for having the same idea. Oh well.
"Wow, you're more famous than I thought. Even people way out in Gunma know your name," Kyousuke laughed, glancing at Celty.
"Being talked about like some urban legend… not exactly something to be proud of," she said glumly.
Whether she was remembering getting chased by Tokyo's traffic cops or just hated the nickname, it was hard to say.
"Well, you're popular in another way too. See those guys over there? They've been ogling you non-stop," Kyousuke said with a bit of annoyance.
Because that's just how men are.
They secretly enjoy the attention their girl gets—until they don't.
Once that pride kicks in, jealousy follows right behind.
So what's the solution? Easy—make the guys staring at her go blind.
But even that's not enough. They could still smell her, still think about her.
Honestly, it'd be simpler if they were all dead.
"No, no! It's not like that! They're just impressed by my driving. That guy even said I broke the record on Mount Haruna!"
Black smoke puffed out of Celty's neck hole like a whistling teapot as she laughed nervously, flailing her tiny hands in protest.
She was desperate to shift the attention away from her… femininity.
"Besides… they only like me for my body. If they saw what was under this helmet, they'd die of shock!"
With that, Celty slumped over in defeat, the dark mist retreating back under her helmet like a scolded child.
"So Celty does know she's got a killer figure, huh? Is that why you wear that skintight leather suit on purpose?" Kyousuke teased softly.
As a mysterious urban legend whose age was anyone's guess, Celty might've been capable of flying through the sky or vanishing into the night—but emotionally?
She was hilariously innocent.
Honestly, even more shy than Shouko.
"T-That's not it at all! I wear this because... because..."
Flustered by the comment, Celty's head began swiveling left and right like she was trying to find an excuse floating in the air.
"That's it! It's a biker outfit, okay?! I am the leader of a biker gang after all, so I should at least look the part!"
She raised her hand and bonked Kyousuke on the head, then turned away with a huff, arms crossed over her chest like she was seriously mad.
But in her haste, both the front and back of her form-fitting outfit jiggled with soft, mesmerizing waves that made Kyousuke's heart skip several beats.
That perfect blend of shy innocence and unintentional sex appeal—that was Celty's unique charm.
Looking at her confident, mature figure, it was hard to imagine just how adorably pure she was inside.
"Hojou! If you say any more embarrassing stuff like that, I'll get really mad!" she warned.
Kyousuke laughed heartily.
"Sorry, sorry. I guess I just got a little excited. It's been a while since we last saw each other."
Hearing that, Celty quickly turned back around—her chest bouncing dramatically again.
"I'm excited too... but I'm not out here saying embarrassing things like you..."
Even as she said that, she started wondering...
'Maybe I should say something flirty too? Hmm, in that case...'
"When we ride home later, you better hold my waist tight, okay? You can even squeeze a little harder if you want!"
She was planning to do something thrilling with Kyousuke—just like the first time they met.
Maybe blaze down Mount Haruna, not by road, but straight through the forest trails.
If they did that, Kyousuke would have to hold her tight.
"Wait no, holding on won't be enough. Better just tie you to me with a rope like last time."
Celty said that cheerfully, giving him an expectant look, hoping to catch him blushing.
'Gulp.'
Kyousuke swallowed hard.
Among everyone present, only he truly understood what she meant… but he stepped right over that line anyway and dived headfirst into fantasy.
"You got it! Don't worry, when we ride, I'll hold your waist real tight—with these strong hands of mine!"
He declared with heat in his voice, practically breathing fire from his nose.
'Wait… why is his embarrassment so different from mine?'
'He looks more excited than anything... Celty thought, confused.
"And don't forget the rope!" she added sternly.
'Was Hojou trying to save face in front of his friends? Safety is more important than pride!'
"We have to tie you down! If things get too intense, it could be dangerous! Even I can't guarantee your safety!"
She said it seriously, letting one pale hand glide down the curve of her waist in an unintentionally seductive gesture.
Kyousuke understood her point—Celty's shadow powers weren't all-powerful and he nodded back with equal seriousness.
"Yeah. Definitely tie me up tight against you!"
"Hey, Kisaki… wasn't this trip supposed to cheer me up after my breakup?"
Gorou asked weakly.
"So why are we all standing here watching Boss flirt with a smoking hot biker chick?"
"That wasn't a breakup. Choose your words carefully," Kaito Kuroda interrupted coldly.
If they called that a breakup, then it was like he had dumped his own best friend.
That didn't sit right.
"..."
Kisaki's eyes went dull, like all life had drained from them.
'The mountains at night sure are cold… Cold enough to chill the soul.'
"This is all your fault," he muttered, smacking Gorou on the head.
'Bonk! Bonk!'
Two more blows followed from Kuroda and Ryoma.
'Damn idiot.'
Because of this moron, they were now part of a scene they never asked for.
The four of them glared with bloodshot eyes at the rival biker gang across from them.
If they couldn't vent their rage at their boss, then these dumb bastards would have to take the hit.
'These morons really thought they could ignore the presence of the infamous Bousou Angels?'
'They didn't even recognize our Boss?'
'And now they're just sitting around chatting up Celty-san like it's no big deal?'
'That's just asking for death!'
If Boss hadn't met Celty tonight, the boys' road trip would've continued in peace.
If these punks hadn't been racing down Mount Haruna in the middle of the night, none of this would've happened.
If they had never been born, they wouldn't be standing here choking on this lemon-flavored display of PDA.
Conclusion: these guys are a damn mistake.
Meanwhile, the other biker gang wasn't feeling so hot either.
They were getting chills of their own.
'This brat!'
This kid was straight-up ignoring Shintarou—their boss—and still chatting with the beauty like nothing mattered.
'That's just begging for a beatdown!'
"That bastard… what does he think Mount Haruna is? This isn't some place for flirting!"
"Doesn't he know you have to get dumped by your girlfriend if you want to conquer this mountain?!"
"I can't take this anymore, Shintarou. What do we do?" one of them growled, gripping a steel pipe.
"Hey, kid! Even if you say you're with the 'Handless Demon,' it won't save you!"
Shintarou bellowed.
They'd been out here all night, and they hadn't even gotten the girl's name, let alone made her blush.
Meanwhile, this punk had her giggling and stammering.
'Unforgivable!'
"If you're that scared of the 'Handless Demon,' you can relax," Kyousuke turned to face them, exasperated.
'What a bunch of clowns.'
If Celty weren't here, he'd honestly have been happy to throw down with them.
Unlike him, Gorou and the guys had a special talent: no matter how upset they were, a good brawl always fixed everything.
If it didn't? They'd just fight again.
Still didn't work?
Eh, a solid concussion and some memory loss would do the trick.
But he was a simple man.
He just wanted to catch up with Celty, calm the ache of longing in his chest, then hand the bike off to Kisaki and let him and the others take it back to Tokyo.
Kyousuke would ride off into the night, arms around Celty's waist.
That was his perfect evening.
Still, the idiot in front of him had ruined that by forcing their reunion early.
With a sigh, he spread his arms.
"I'm not the 'Handless Demon's' underling. I've never even heard of that nickname."
'Seriously? Couldn't they come up with cooler names?'
Like...
"Fist of the Four Corners, Foot of Death's Edge, the Black King!"
...Yeah no.
Giving yourself nicknames is way too cringe.
Better leave that to others.
'Still…..,' Kyousuke thought as he cracked his knuckles, 'Kisaki really needs to step up his PR game. Building a legend is important too, y'know.'
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