Kiri had long lost track of time—or consciousness. Ryuji showed no intention of stopping, and within thirty minutes, she had completely passed out. Thirty minutes of continuous orgasms had completely drained her. Even now, her eyes rolled back, pupils faintly visible beneath fluttering lids.
If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest and the steady beat of her heart, Ryuji might have thought her truly dead!
Feeling his own release approaching, Ryuji spilled into her—partly inside, partly across her flushed face, streaks of white stark against her cheek. There was something almost artistic about the contrast—the pale traces against her unconscious form.
But as the intensity faded, Ryuji felt… empty.
"Seriously… all tease, no endurance. You didn't even last as long as Shinobu."
He couldn't help but sigh. Whether it was her sensitive nerves or some other trait, Kiri reached orgasm almost too easily—a few thrusts were enough to push her over the edge. It made her thrillingly responsive but… ultimately unsatisfying for him.
"What am I supposed to do now?"
He glanced down at his cock—already hard again just a minute after he came.
Seria, though she looked delicate village girl, could keep up with him for a full day without faltering. Yet Kiri here, who seems so strong and experienced—like a mature big sister—completely collapsed after just thirty minutes of non-stop orgasm. Her mind and body were utterly overwhelmed. Which made him helpless.
It was… frustrating.
But seeing her lying there—vulnerable, exhausted, and curled pitifully in sleep—Ryuji couldn't bring himself to take advantage of her unconscious state.
After all, whether it's oral or anything else… it's only fun when the girl is actively participating.
And since it's her first time… I'll let it slide.
"Forget it…"
Golden dragonfire flickered to life in Ryuji's palm, gently washing over Kiri's body to soothe her physical exhaustion. But even as her vitality returned, her spirit remained frayed—dulled by the sensory overload of thirty minutes of continuous climax. A second round was clearly out of the question.
So he simply held her and slept.
But...
The next morning, Ryuji awoke to the sensation of a hand stroking his hardened cock. He opened his eyes to find Kiri lying in his arms, still wearing her silk gloves, her fingers fiddling with his cock with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.
Ryuji could only sigh in amused exasperation. Looking at Kiri, whose face was flushed and slightly nervous, he voiced the obvious question. It was clear Kiri enjoyed the pleasure of orgasm—but was also secretly intimidated by its intensity.
"You're this inexperienced… you sure you can handle it?"
"Who are you calling inexperienced?! I'm no quick-finish amateur!"
Kiri instantly bristled, her face reddening as she tried to muster a retort. But before she could speak, Ryuji had already flipped her onto her back, pinned her long legs over her shoulders, and inserted his cock inside her pussy in one smooth motion.
"W-wait! Slow down! I take it back! Ahh—! I… I… oh god… faster—!"
Her protests soon melted into moans, her voice turning husky with desire. Yet, despite her enthusiasm, her endurance remained lacking. After only a short while of Ryuji's full-paced rhythm, she collapsed once more, completely spent.
This time, however, Ryuji didn't overwhelm her further. Instead, he pulled back, his arousal still evident, and met her dazed but conscious gaze.
"Bastard…"
Kiri muttered the word, but then—hesitantly—she leaned forward and took his cock into her mouth, mimicking what she'd seen others do before.
By the time Ryuji finally returned to the inn, the sun was already setting.
"Truly… all tease no stamina," he mused to himself, shaking his head with a wry smile.
The thought of Kiri—who had spent so long resting just to challenge him—then was made unconscious by him within half an hour, reduced to the point where she had no choice but to use her mouth to relieve him, made the corner of Ryuji's lips curl upward in amusement.
In truth, Kiri wasn't all that weak. She had simply chosen the wrong opponent. Against the man he used to be, their little lovemaking might have lasted half an hour at most, and the pace and depth of his penetration in her pussy wouldn't have been nearly as overwhelming. The results would never have been so devastating.
But unfortunately for her, she had crossed paths with the man he was now. Their stamina wasn't even on the same level anymore.
Kiri's endurance and tolerance could no longer keep up with him.
If he wished, he could make her moan at any moment.
This is the confidence that comes with true strength.
Amused by the thought, Ryuji spotted Sizki passing by and—without a shred of hesitation—reached out to squeeze her supple, elastic butt. Seria, who had just come out carrying a tray of dishes, nearly let out a startled cry, but Ryuji's other hand was already on her as well, claiming her ass before pressing both girls down against the table.
A low chuckle escaped his throat.
With only a few teasing motions of his fingers, both women became wet, though Ryuji spared Sizki from further attention for the moment. Instead, he aligned his hardened cock with Seria's pussy and thrust inside without pause.
"Ahn—Ryuji! Rosh will be here any moment—!"
Seria gasped, her face burning crimson as she looked back at him, eyes wide, while Sizki could only stare in speechless shock. Even so, Seria tried to reason with him between ragged breaths.
Ryuji showed her no mercy. His hand came down in a sharp smack against her pale, soft ass, and then he began to move with ruthless rhythm.
"Then work harder—make me finish quickly!"
"Mmh—!"
Seria let out a desperate whimper, her body trembling as she clamped down on him so tightly it nearly trapped him inside. But his free hand was far from idle. In the corner of his eye he caught Sizki biting her lip, flustered and overwhelmed, as his fingers relentlessly explored her pussy, driving her toward orgasm again and again.
Soon, the inn was filled with the sweet chorus of two women's moans.
Meanwhile, Rosh sat by the door, hugging her knees and staring blankly ahead, lost in thought.
So… I'm the outsider here, aren't I?
The thought felt strange to her, though she couldn't quite place why. Shaking her head, she could only sit quietly and wait for the three inside to finish.
But just as she worried the food would go cold, a woman radiating a deadly, poisonous aura appeared.
Rosh stiffened. She remembered that name.
"You're… Chobung?" she murmured, tilting her head.
"That's right…" Chobung clenched her teeth, spitting the words out with venom.
"Is that bastard Ryuji inside?!"
Rosh instinctively nodded, then quickly shook her head.
"He's not here!"
Although Ryuji had no desire for her body. He had even helped her train, and besides, he was her meal ticket. There was no way Rosh was going to cause him trouble over something like this.
"…Then that means he is here."
Chobung shoved Rosh aside without another word and kicked the door open. But before she could even swing a fist at Ryuji, he caught her hand and slammed her down onto the table.
On that same table, Seria lay sprawled, her body trembling as thick, glistening white fluids dripped steadily from between her legs. Beside her, Sizki was collapsed in exhaustion, eyes closed, breathing weakly. And now, in only an instant, Chobung was pressed down as well—cursing angrily, yet betraying herself with the strange sounds spilling from her lips.
Rosh quietly closed the door.
She waited a moment, then saw Seria emerge—her cheeks flushed red, streaks of something suspicious glistening on her arms and tangled in her hair.
"Um, Rosh…" Seria stammered, face burning. "I… I didn't cook today. Go grab some grilled meat instead. Ryuji and I have something to do.... Ryuji says whatever's left over is your pocket money. And on your way back, could you pick up some roast chicken…?"
Her voice faltered. Even though being with the others like this filled her with shame, she couldn't bring herself to refuse Ryuji. The contradiction gnawed at her, leaving her unable to meet Rosh's gaze with any confidence.
"Ahh… I knew it. That guy…"
Rosh sighed helplessly, took the pouch of coins from Seria, and set off toward the street. Seria breathed a sigh of relief—only for Ryuji to appear behind her, hand clamping over her mouth as he pulled her back inside. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.
Watching the closed door, Rosh shook her head, weighing the coin purse in her hand. Her gaze drifted toward a nearby clothing shop.
"Well… even if it's technically his money, he did say it's mine. Buying him a gift doesn't seem too much, does it?"
Her eyes lingered on a set of men's clothes hanging in the shop window. She thought for a long moment.
Meanwhile, Ryuji's life had become almost idyllic. Sizki, for her own reasons, still hadn't crossed that final line, but Chobung and Seria had already surrendered themselves to him. Chobung had even moved into the inn, and sometimes Kiri would come by as well.
Yes, his life was comfortable. Almost too comfortable.
And therein lay the problem.
Restlessness stirred in his chest again.
To calm it, Ryuji ventured into the Grand Flores, seeking adventure. But the attempt was a failure. Not only did he fail to encounter the Ice and Fire Sisters, even the monsters he met inside were too weak to awaken his fighting spirit. A completely unsatisfying venture.
Worse, Sizki and Rosh both made progress from the journey—and even Chobung had improved.
Only he remained stagnant.
He longed for greater challenges. But the Tower of Dead was sealed, and even the Sky Tower had yet to appear. Arad was too peaceful, frustratingly so.
So, after studying a few of Arad's magical arts, Ryuji's restless heart turned toward other worlds.
Perhaps… the world of Mai Shiranui.
"Should I really go now?"
He lay in bed, Kiri sprawled beside him like a broken doll. She had thought a few potions would let her challenge him again, only to be utterly defeated—left trembling and hollow-eyed, the very picture of seeking her own downfall.
Idly stroking Seria's silken hair, Ryuji weighed the thought.
Then, just as he resolved to enter Mai's world—to claim her with his cock—a notification appeared.
[World Fragment detected. Begin retrieval? Time remaining: 23:59:58.]
Ryuji's hand froze while stroking Seria's silver hair. Seria, already teary-eyed with her throat full of his cock, looked up at him in confusion. He gave her a gentle pat, and she obediently resumed.
"Well, well… now there's even a time limit, is there?"
He narrowed his eyes at the floating prompt, intrigued.
But then an invisible force surged into his body. Seria's eyes flashed gold for an instant before returning to normal.
Ryuji understood immediately.
"So… we've already been observed. That means time flows the same in both worlds now. If I don't anchor myself by entering, that fragment will escape, won't it?"
He rubbed his chin irritably.
Of all times, it had to be now? Just when he was about to go after Mai Shiranui?
He really couldn't understand why it had to happen like this.
But truthfully, he had grown a little bored. Not because Seria and the others weren't enough for him, but because his strength couldn't be improved. That itch of dissatisfaction lingered.
Besides, going to Mai's world wasn't simply about just sleeping with her. His true aim was to challenge true fighters.
The martial artists of that world might vary wildly in strength—some could barely withstand three moves from him—but their fighting spirit was unquestionable. That indomitable will to battle… that was what Ryuji wanted to temper his own resolve against.
Because here in Arad, there were no opponents left that suited him.
Anyone weaker was crushed instantly.
Anyone stronger could crush him just as easily.
And the rest… were things best left alone or utterly untouchable.
So, for the sake of safety, the world of the King of Fighters was far more appealing. It wasn't time to gamble with his life recklessly.
"Alright then. Let's pay it a visit."
The instant Ryuji made his decision, his aura shifted. Seria's eyes widened at the change, but before she could speak, he pushed her down to finish what they had started—today's "farewell ritual."
When it was over, and after he had washed and readied himself, he tucked Seria and the others into their rooms. Alone, he stepped into the study under the pretense of researching swordplay. There, he accepted the task.
And with that, time itself in Arad seemed to pause the moment Ryuji vanished.
But what he did not know was this—his departure stirred another presence.
A man with a great gear embedded in his back opened his eyes.
Carloso Image (Here)
"So this… is the power of another world?"
The Great Will spoke.
It was not Carloso, as the gods believed. It was not any divine being they named. This was the first light of this world, the creator god of this world, the Great Will.
As the Will spoke, its formless nature began to coalesce. What appeared was a body identical to Seria's—or rather, it was Seria.
She caressed her own form, letting her fingers play with the faint traces of white essence that clung to her skin. She could feel Ryuji's alien power within her, along with fragments of rules and parameters from other worlds. Her mind set to work at once.
At this moment, Seria could no longer truly be called Seria. She was still herself, yes—but in essence, she was the embodiment of the Great Will—Seria.
"Now that I've absorbed this… does that mean you're no longer the greatest fragment?"
Her voice was cool and clear as she gazed upon the world-line and timeline of Arad. Though she spoke into the silence, she knew that Carloso, the one who had lost the mantle of "Great Will," could still hear her.
"It doesn't matter," Carloso answered from somewhere beyond. "As long as it benefits this world, that is enough."
He cared little for whether he was—or was not—the will of the Creator God. From the very beginning, there had only ever been one Will of Creation.
His outward form was male for a simple reason: this world required a strong and authoritative figure to embody that will.
Seria, however, had taken the shape of a woman—because the world equally needed gentleness, compassion, and kindness.
Yet in truth, both of them were the Great Will—two fragments of the Creator's own divine consciousness.
Each carried their own thoughts and personalities, yet both remained pieces of the same origin. And if one looked deeper, was not the entire world itself… also just another fragment of that will?
Whoever could rightfully claim the mantle of the Great Will depended on only one thing—who could seize the world most completely, and who could guide it toward what was most beneficial.
Seria had always been one of the strongest contenders for that title.
And now, with the laws and power of other worlds flowing through her, she had naturally obtained the title.
But Carloso did not mind. Instead, he simply asked:
"Do you intend to continue?"
He would have preferred to speak openly with Ryuji, to enlist him as a bridge between their world and other worlds.
But Seria only shook her head gently.
"No… things are fine as they are. Any other way—he would not accept."
With that, Seria closed her eyes once more, sinking back into slumber. Her divine awareness faded, retreating into the familiar guise of the simple innkeeper Seria.
Yes, from the very first day Ryuji had arrived in this world, Carloso had noticed him.
If not for the fact that, during the period of observation, Ryuji had saved Seria—and if not for the undeniable truth that he was, at heart, a good man—then…
Carloso would have confronted him directly.
Or perhaps Ryuji would simply have died, choked by the air itself.
Because, in a certain sense—
Ryuji was an outsider.
An outsider who bore the essence of—
God.
——————————————
Meanwhile, in another place—
Ryuji had no idea how many times he'd almost died just moments ago. Stepping out of the cave, he blinked at the sight before him—towering skyscrapers, steel, and concrete.
"Hm… so what kind of world is it this time?" he muttered curiously.
But his system—the so-called "will of 7 Days to Die"—was dead silent. Not a single word, no guidance. Even when he pulled out the world fragment from his inventory, it just sat there like a lifeless rock.
"Playing dead, huh?" Ryuji rolled his eyes.
He opened the inter-world travel menu—and froze.
The prices… were absurdly low.
[Jumping to Academy City: only 100 energy points.]
[The Naruto world: 100 points.]
[Toph's world: 100 points.]
Even the World of Warcraft, Rias's world, Arad's world—each just 100 points.
"…Yeah, I knew this economy system was gonna collapse sooner or later," Ryuji muttered, half annoyed, half thrilled. But his eyes were practically glowing.
Forget about the loot he could score from world fragments—just the travel cost itself was a jackpot!
Hell, if he casually found a woman in this world and slept with her once, he'd never need to worry about travel expenses again. His grin widened at the thought.
But then, something on the list caught his eye—entries that didn't fit in at all.
[NieR world: 100 million energy points.]
[Overwatch world: 3 million points.]
[League of Legends world: 1 million points.]
[Shokugeki no Soma/Food Wars world: 80 million points.]
[King of Fighters world: 300 million points.]
"…What the hell? Why are you guys so damn expensive? This economy system seriously—what even is the logic here? Completely incomprehensible!"
Ryuji grumbled aloud, but his words trailed off when something unexpected hit his ears.
Tsunade's voice.
He snapped his head around and spotted the source: a bulky old television sitting in a shop window, broadcasting Naruto.
"…That explains it?"
The set was ancient, one of those boxy monsters with static glare. The billboards nearby were equally retro, and the people's fashion—
Crop tops, miniskirts, short shorts everywhere. Way bolder than the 2023 he knew.
And of course, Ryuji couldn't help himself.
"Goddamn feminists ruined crop tops, miniskirts, and hotpants. 'Cause they thought it was all about pleasing men. What a tragedy."
He smiled bitterly. He wouldn't even have known that if a female friend hadn't told him—he'd always just assumed fashion had shifted naturally.
"Wait… don't tell me I'm in a Hong Kong movie world?"
The signs, the architecture, the chatter around him—Cantonese, everywhere. He was getting stares left and right. Not surprising, since he looked like some cloaked mercenary carrying a sword on his back.
Still, he didn't bother ducking away. He wanted to draw attention.
If his guess was right, he should've come here with a teammate. Last time, Mai Shiranui had been sent along. She hadn't accomplished much, but she was backup. In fact, if he hadn't blitzed through the previous mission and triggered a forced cutscene, she would've had her chance to fight the boss too.
This time… no rush. The city seemed peaceful enough. He'd find his partner first and take it slow.
Except… scanning the streets, he saw no one who looked remotely like another otherworldly traveler. Just ordinary locals pointing and whispering about the strange swordsman.
"…Weird. Don't tell me this mission has no teammates?"
He glanced down at the dead weight in his hand—the world fragment. Still lifeless, no answers. He shoved it back into his "system."
"Fine. Step one: figure out what kind of world this actually is."
Ryuji didn't care about the stares around him. With a single leap, he vaulted onto the rooftop of a five-story building. A few more agile jumps brought him across several rooftops, leaving bystanders staring in shock as he settled down to survey the cityscape.
But even from up high, nothing seemed out of place. He frowned. Which meant his teammates were hiding way too well, or they look just like ordinary people in this world… or there were no teammates at all.
"Forget it. Let's see what the pocket watch and that map say."
He pulled out the enchanted map that had once guided him through the Demon Slayer world with ease. Yet here, it was nothing more than dead parchment—no glow, no power, not even a flicker of life.
This time, however, the pocket watch responded.
Its compass needle pointed unwaveringly toward a single direction. Ryuji lifted his gaze—and there it was. The deep blue sea stretched endlessly before him.
Clearly, the message was simple: cross the ocean.
"But… am I supposed to be heading toward my teammate? Or my target?"
Scratching his head, Ryuji couldn't tell. Still, a goal was better than none. He stripped off his flashy Arad-style outfit and changed into something less conspicuous.
"First things first. Gotta get some cash."
Descending into the busy streets, he blended in with the bustling crowds and quickly picked up some intel while eavesdropping:
First, this wasn't the 2008 era he had guessed—it was the year 1990.
Second, this wasn't some random city. He was in Hong Kong. And the compass was pointing straight across the sea—toward Japan.
Third, he had no ID. If it weren't for his neat appearance and the sheer sharpness of his presence, the police would've already stopped him for questioning.
That meant buying a ship ticket through legal means was out of the question.
Not that it was impossible for him. With his skills, plus the compass, all he really needed was a small boat, some food, and fuel—then he could make the trip himself.
But that still left one problem…
He didn't have a single Hong Kong dollar. Sure, gold could be exchanged, but the major shops demanded ID, and the smaller gold dealers had all treated him like a clueless mark to scam.
If he had an anchor in this world—a woman he could tie himself to—Ryuji wouldn't have minded. But he didn't. And without such a bond, once he left, he'd never be able to return. He doubted the half-dead 7 Days to Die world still had the strength to send him back here again.
As for stealing from ordinary people…
He had no interest in preying on civilians.
"So… you lot are just out of luck."
Clutching his piece of gold, Ryuji's sharp gaze swept over the crowd until it landed on a group of gangsters—hair dyed in various colors, walking with exaggerated swagger, their whole demeanor screaming "troublemaker."
Perfect. Back in the day, whenever transmigrators ran into this kind of situation, who did they shake down? Street thugs, gangsters, low-lifes. Why break tradition now?
He smirked to himself. Besides, these guys were basically walking ATMs. It's not like they'd dare report it afterward, right?
As the group swaggered toward him, Ryuji brushed past them with a faint smile. Just as expected, one of the hot-headed gangsters "accidentally" bumped into him.
Ryuji laughed lightly, pretending to ignore it.
But then a loud, cocky voice called out:
"Hey! You there! Hold it!"
Keeping his face calm, Ryuji turned his head.
"What is it?"
He was already ready to take their wallets—and maybe find a decent-looking woman afterward to serve as an anchor point—before heading straight for another world to stock up on supplies.
But the moment he turned, the gangsters felt it. A wave of sheer, suffocating pressure radiated from him. His cold, expressionless eyes locked onto them, freezing the atmosphere in place.
The leader of the group took one good look at Ryuji's broad shoulders, the muscle in his arms, the fists that looked like they could shatter brick, and—most importantly—the massive greatsword strapped to his back, wrapped in cloth but impossible to hide.
Two seconds of silence. Then the leader forced a polite smile.
"Nothing at all. My brother here just wanted to apologize. He wasn't watching where he was going, right?"
He nudged his underling forward, bowed slightly to Ryuji, and quickly turned on his heel. The gang melted into the crowd, leaving Ryuji standing there.
He even caught their panicked whispers as they fled:
"Are you out of your damn mind? You actually bumped into a monster like that?!"
"B-boss, I just wanted to admire your heroic figure up close!"
"Admire my ass! You've got a death wish? Look at him—he'd crush us flat. Next time, if you need to 'accidentally' bump into someone, pick a nerdy four-eyes, got it?!"
…
Ryuji: "…"
Damn. These guys are sharper than I expected.
Ryuji was speechless.
"Fine… this method of making money is a bit too unreliable. I'll just sell some gold instead."
He sighed, patting the gun tucked into his backpack. Sure, there were shops that would buy gold without requiring ID, but they always charged a fee. And since shaking down thugs had proven trickier than expected, selling gold was the safer option. Even if the exchange rate was slightly worse, as long as he kept the gun handy, he wouldn't get completely swindled.
He shook his head and decided to look for a gold shop.
But as he stepped out of the alley, he spotted someone familiar.
Or rather, someone he had seen on TV.
The man walked with arrogant confidence, flipping a lighter in his hand—not smoking, just playing with the flame as s he walked. Long hair flowed behind him, his presence undeniable.
Ryuji recognize him immediately.
"The Young and Dangerous… Chan Ho-Nam's world?"
Ryuji rubbed his forehead. He felt utterly disoriented. How had his neat, two-dimensional anime world suddenly shifted into a Hong Kong action movie—or maybe even the Hong Kong comic timeline?
Yes, a comic. Because Young and Dangerous had a manga adaptation, he wasn't entirely sure if this was a movie world. After all, his previous two-dimensional worlds had been solidly three-dimensional, just with near-identical character designs—minus the exaggeration typical of anime.
So even if this was a Hong Kong comic world, it didn't surprise him too much.
"Though if it's Young and Dangerous…"
Ryuji stroked his chin and watched the infamous Chan Ho-Nam in action. Unsurprisingly, Chan was accompanied by his brother-in-arms, Chiu, swinging at him.
"What were these guys called in the movies again… Chicken or Plane?"
Ryuji racked his memory. He hadn't actually watched the movies—just glimpsed them on Hong Kong variety shows—so he couldn't recall.
Shrugging, he decided to follow the group for now. Later, he'd find a quiet spot later, rough them up, and take their money. After all, in the context of Young and Dangerous, beating these thugs was basically doing a public service.
But as he observed the group, someone suddenly approached him.
Ryuji spun around, grabbing the hand that reached for his shoulder. But when he saw the face, he instinctively shouted:
"Uncle Bee?!"
The shout froze the man in place. Ryuji then realized that Uncle Bee was wearing a police uniform.
Before he could fully process the situation, Uncle Bee spoke, confused:
"Little brother, how do you know I'm the Bee?"
Dressed as a cop, Uncle Bee looked at Ryuji skeptically. There was no way anyone in his family or acquaintances would call him "Uncle Bee," and he didn't know Ryuji at all.
Ryuji, meanwhile, was completely dumbfounded. He was starting to wonder if he had truly transmigrated into the world of Hong Kong variety shows.
But the problem was…
He came from a two-dimensional anime world! This made absolutely no sense.
Seeing Uncle Bee's puzzled expression, Ryuji waved his hand casually.
"Ah, I've just heard of you."
"I see…"
Uncle Bee still looked a bit puzzled. But anyone who knew him probably wasn't a stranger, so he didn't ask Ryuji for ID. He just patted Ryuji on the shoulder.
"Those guys are all part of Young and Dangerous. Don't stare at them, or you'll get into trouble. Go home quickly."
With that, Uncle Bee gave Ryuji another light pat on the arm, signaling him to leave.
Ryuji naturally complied, walking away. But when he tried to sense any energy from Uncle Bee using his Observation Haki, he felt… nothing. Not a trace of any special energy.
"Strange… what kind of world is this?"
Lost in thought, Ryuji's eyes landed on a nearby poster. The face was smugly handsome, and the text next to it read clearly: "Chef God Stephen Chow."
"…Yeah, this really is a Hong Kong variety show world."
He finally gave up trying to make sense of it. He pulled out his pocket watch again, only to notice the compass needle had shifted from pointing toward Japan to an entirely different direction.
"This…"
Ryuji was completely dumbfounded. He rubbed his chin and made a decision.
"I'll just rob some gangsters to get some money!"
There was no other way. This world, this mission—it was just too bizarre.
So, spotting Chan Ho-Nam striding arrogantly into a secluded alley with his entourage, Ryuji silently followed. When the group noticed him trailing them, he didn't hesitate. He quietly raised his fists.
Of course, someone caught onto his intent. One guy, vaguely familiar to Ryuji but whose name escaped him, pointed directly at Ryuji and stomped forward.
"Hey, punk! What are you trying to do? This is brother Ho-Nam!"
Ryuji's only reply was a punch.
Two minutes later…
Ryuji spat disdainfully onto the ground and looked down at the fallen Ho-Nam and his group with utter contempt.
"Damn it… not even ten thousand dollars between all of you? What kind of gangsters are you?! Next time I see you, if you still have less than ten grand on you, I'm taking you out for good!"
=========
📢T/N: I will be taking a break till this weekend. Because I will be busy with some work, till then✌️.
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