"I'm home," I called as I slipped off my shoes.
"Onii-chan, you took your time getting back."
Rumi, my cute little sister, greeted me in her usual way while watching TV in the living room.
"My bad, I got caught up with a few things." I walked over and patted her head. My little sister really is the cutest in the world.
She didn't resist, though she hates it when I do that in public. She's so adorable.
"Did something happen to you?"
"You mean this?" I pointed at my cheek, already treated at the infirmary. "I ran into a pole on my way to school."
Rumi gave me a look, like she couldn't believe her brother could be such an idiot.
"Are you an idiot?"
"Rumi-chan, your words pierce your big brother's heart."
"Hopeless." She sighed.
Why do I feel like the roles are reversed, and she's the older one while I'm the younger? I chuckled to myself.
Still, that's fine. Rumi is sharp, though there are things I'd rather she didn't know.
"Anyway, I'm heading to my room, then I'll be going out. I might be back late tonight."
"Going out again?"
"You know how I am. Just looking for a good place to kill some time."
"I don't know why you're still into that when you're already too skilled."
"Just one of your big brother's little whims."
Rumi raised an eyebrow before turning her attention back to the TV—some magical girl anime.
"Don't stay out too late, or Mom will scold you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
My mother is… special. I'd rather she always stay in a good mood.
With our little exchange over, I headed up to my room on the second floor.
My room wasn't anything fancy—a wardrobe, a bookshelf stuffed with novels I'd read and others waiting their turn, a desk with my computer, and of course my bed. Not exactly the work of a creative decorator.
"Guess it was my mistake leaving my shirt on the bed."
On top of my clothes lay a ball of black fur, sleeping soundly.
Ignoring Kuro—my pitch-black cat who practically disappears at night—I grabbed my towel and headed for the shower.
Standing in front of the mirror, back to how I came into this world, I noticed a few small scratches on my abdomen—souvenirs from those two's kicks.
"If that's the best they can do, I don't know whether to be proud of myself or pity them." I gave a wry smile.
The most striking thing in my reflection was the scar across my upper chest and back. My mark of honor as a big brother—like a medal of recognition.
It looks cool, so I can't complain.
After spacing out for a while, I stepped into the shower.
Once done, I went straight back to my room.
Given the situation, I figured it was best to go like this.
From my wardrobe, I picked the most practical choice: a black T-shirt, dark blue track pants, and a hooded sweatshirt. I added a dark-colored cap for good measure.
An outfit that practically screams suspicious, but here in Japan, it's more common than you'd think. People can be pretty weird—something I can use to my advantage.
I could've added a mask, but it makes it hard to breathe. I still don't get how some people wear them without a problem.
"All set! With a bit of luck, I can wrap this up tonight!" I said with energy and good spirits.
It all depends on my luck. If not, there's always next time.
Humming a children's song, I went downstairs.
"See you later, Rumi."
"Take care, Onii-chan. Good luck."
Rumi said goodbye without taking her eyes off the TV. She really liked that magical girl anime.
Without questioning my sweet sister's tastes—though they might be my fault—I slipped on my sneakers and headed out toward the city center.
Glancing at my watch, I saw it was already six in the evening. A quick calculation told me I had plenty of time to spare.
I probably could've gotten home earlier, but I ended up walking that girl back to her place after leaving the infirmary, having a calm conversation along the way.
That's probably the closest I'll ever get to a friendly chat.
I gave a faint smile and kept walking.
Since I had time to kill, I chose to walk instead of taking the train, and little by little I noticed the night taking over the city.
Once I reached the outskirts of the shopping district, I walked a block until I arrived at an area with several karaoke spots—popular among kids my age and college students.
Not being a social person doesn't mean I'm clueless about these places.
It's normal to see people waiting around outside, either for friends or just killing time. So no, I don't look suspicious.
Finding a good spot with a clear view of the entrances and exits, I decided to wait.
I may not look it, but I'm a kind person. If someone does something to me, rest assured I'll return the favor in my own way. And in this case, I wasn't about to sit still after what happened this afternoon.
I kept watch on the different entrances for half an hour, but none of the people I was looking for showed up. I'm terrible at remembering faces, but I do make exceptions.
When I started to think today had been a waste of time, fifteen minutes later I spotted four students happily leaving a karaoke bar.
Remember: it's a bad idea to announce your plans out loud. The wrong kind of people might take advantage of that.
Movies first, then karaoke. Once I overheard that, it was easy to connect the dots with places I knew—popular spots for young people—and of course, they'd choose a place with both nearby.
The four of them chatted cheerfully as they enjoyed their night out, and I began tailing them from a safe distance.
Chiba, like any city, has alleys people use as shortcuts, and they're popular routes. Counting on that, I waited for them to take one.
Sure enough, the four students cut through an alley to get to the train station faster.
You have to be cautious. Middle school kids, this late at night, in a sketchy place—if something were to happen, no one could say a thing.
I pulled my hood up, and with the cap I was already wearing, my face was well hidden.
If they had only stuck to me, this would've just been a small lesson to teach them a bit of humility. But now, I've changed my mind.
After all, I'm just a kind person, about to show how good I can really be.
Violence isn't always the fastest answer. If society worked that way, wars and conflicts would be everyday life.
But there are moments when it's the most effective method.
If someone breaks into your home and does whatever they want to your wife and daughter, are you just going to talk it out, hear an apology, and call it even?
If that's something you'd do, then please, go see a specialist—you're out of your mind. Forgiving people who've caused you real harm is something only a fool would do.
The four students were still chatting as they walked. Once they reached the middle of the alley, it was time to act.
Any other thoughts vanished from my mind. My expression went blank. This would be quick—I wasn't about to waste more time on people who weren't worth it.
I closed in on Kazuki from behind. Once I was close enough, I lightly tapped his shoulder, making him turn to see who wanted his attention.
There was no doubt, no hesitation. I clenched my right fist and slammed it straight into his face—I felt his nose crack under my knuckles. Without missing a beat, I grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and yanked his head toward me, driving a knee into his stomach, then another into his liver. I didn't hold back.
Before he could let out a sound, I released his neck and threw an upward hook with my left arm that snapped his chin up, only to bury my right fist into his stomach right after.
Taking advantage of his reflexive hunch, I stepped back with my left leg and raised my right, delivering a sharp, direct kick to his knee. The joint bent unnaturally with a dry, brutal crack.
It's always tragic when a soccer player suffers an injury—depending on how bad it is, it could end their dream for good.
Planting my foot back down, I swung an upward elbow strike with my right arm, smashing his jaw and snapping his head back by sheer force.
Good night.
Before he could even collapse, I twisted slightly and launched a kick with my left leg, striking his head clean. His body flew like a garbage bag tossed aside, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
I can do this in many ways—maybe take my time breaking each one of them down—but here, given the location, I want to finish quickly. That doesn't lessen the damage I can cause in such a short span.
I'm only using what I've learned these past few years.
After that, the other three students, still unsure of what had just happened, turned to look at their friend lying on the ground.
"Huh!?"
One of the girls was the first to realize it, staring at the limp body of the boy who, just seconds ago, was laughing cheerfully.
Their eyes seemed unable to process what they were seeing, as if their brains refused to register it.
But of course, Ren was the first to understand the situation.
"Stay behind me!"
Oh, that's a protagonist's move—acting calm, not knowing what just happened, yet still putting himself forward to protect the girls around him.
Disgusting.
The two girls, unsure of what to do, obeyed and sheltered behind Ren.
They could've run, gotten away, but instead they chose to trust his words. Not that I was about to let them.
"What do you want!?" He shouted at me, rage in his voice, trying to intimidate me. But…
Was that fear I caught? Or maybe just doubt—uncertainty about how he'd overcome the obstacle standing in front of him?
I stayed silent. I had nothing to say. Besides, they might recognize my voice—though I doubt they'd even remember me.
I stepped forward without hesitation. Ren reacted by throwing a punch at my face—pure brute force, no skill, leaving his guard wide open. Even so, I took the hit and staggered back, groaning in pain.
One thing I was taught: people are easy to manipulate. If they're in a tough spot but suddenly realize they can fight through it, they gain confidence—and arrogance.
I learned that lesson the hard way. Never get careless in a fight. Drop your guard and you could end up on the floor—or worse, dead in an instant.
Watching him, I realized my plan worked. Ren, proud of managing to hit back and push his attacker away, gave a cocky smile.
'He only got lucky blindsiding Kato.'
That's what he must be thinking.
Like I said, humans are selfish by nature. Ren could take this chance to run off with the girls, but he doesn't.
Now that he thinks he can overcome the guy who ambushed them, he believes if he knocks me out and hands me to the authorities, he'll become a hero. All the girls will want him, he'll be more popular than ever, and this will even boost his basketball career.
All good news—and exactly the bait I set for him. Psychology is a weapon: learn how people think, and you can use them against themselves.
A fight isn't just physical—it's psychological. Show weakness, bait your opponent, trick them into overconfidence. There's a lot you can apply, especially when there's no referee to stop it, no bell to save you.
Without hesitation, he rushed at me again, throwing another punch at my face.
I slipped left past his fist, grabbed his wrist with my right hand, and let his arm extend.
I wonder—what's a basketball player without one of his arms?
I raised my left arm and drove it down hard on the back of his elbow. The crack was so sharp it sounded like snapping a tree branch.
"AHHHHH!" Ren screamed as he saw his forearm bent in the wrong direction.
That's why I hate these types. Instead of being rational, they chase some fake glory. Idiot.
With the advantage, I spun quickly behind him and drove my elbow into the back of his neck.
Before his body could collapse, I grabbed his hair with my right hand and slammed my knee into his stomach.
I'm a kind person—I'm just returning the favor for that punch he landed on me.
As my leg dropped, I stepped back with the other, clenched my right fist, then lunged forward with that same leg, smashing my fist into his cheek.
The force of the punch sent his body straight to the ground, my knuckles leaving their mark in his flesh.
With two down, I shifted my gaze to the two remaining girls. They stared back at me with horror and fear.
I get it—no one expects something like this to happen.
Before, this would've been enough. They'd be terrified, lesson learned. But after that conversation with her, I changed my mind.
Expressionless, I began walking toward them. Their survival instincts finally kicked in, and they turned to run.
Too bad I had already reached them.
I stretched my arms out, grabbing the backs of their heads, then slammed their faces into each other.
Taking advantage of their daze, I hurled them against a nearby wall.
Some people enjoy intimidating others, exploiting weakness, humiliating them. Strangely enough, that's not the case for me.
Their bodies hit the wall, and before their legs gave out, I wrapped my hands around both their necks and began to squeeze hard.
They screamed in fear, trying to form words—but nothing came out.
What's worse? Death… or the fear of dying?
I'd say the fear of dying—because you can die without realizing it, but you'll always be aware when death is close.
I could see it on their faces when they felt the air slipping away from their bodies.
There was no one to help them—their friends lay unconscious on the ground with severe fractures, and now they themselves were in a situation where it seemed they were about to leave forever.
Slowly, the resistance in their arms as they struggled against me faded away, and their expressions grew calmer. Of course, their tear-filled eyes and looks of horror told a different story.
As I watched the light in their eyes dim little by little, I threw their bodies to the ground as if they were nothing more than sacks of meat.
I have my limits. I don't want to be a criminal. I only exercised my right to self-defense—perhaps a little late, but still.
With a calm expression, I looked at the four unconscious students lying on the ground.
Before leaving, I checked each of their bodies and took their wallets and phones, which I destroyed—but not before dialing the emergency number.
Now, it would just look like a robbery where the attacker chose to knock out his victims before taking their belongings.
After that, I left the place.
…
At a nearby public restroom, I washed the blood off my hands. I had hit them with enough force to stain myself. And even if nearby security cameras caught me, my appearance would make me unrecognizable.
It's not as if this was the first time I'd done something like this—though the other times happened while I was walking through unsafe streets late at night, when strangers would try to ask me for a "small loan."
With a pleasant smile, I broke a few parts of their bodies.
Theory is important, but practice is too. What's the point of knowing how to use what someone teaches you if you don't have anyone to practice with? Luckily, I had kind senpais who showed me how I could train.
Someone who truly knows how to fight will always avoid conflict, but if the other side leaves you no choice, you can make them suffer until they change their mind.
I'm aware the things I've done are inexcusable, but why should I care? Remorse? I don't have any.
They're just trash you run into on a daily basis.
With that in mind, I decided to head home and have dinner with my sweet little sister.
What should I cook for dinner? Then again, now that I have more money, maybe I'll just order something.
With a cheerful smile on my face, I continued on my way home.