No need for Satoru to say a word. The system felt the second-hand embarrassment so hard it quietly folded itself into a corner and pretended to be dead.
'Heh.'
Satoru sneered.
Absolute Defense (Lamian).
If it was just "Absolute Defense," that would be god-tier. But the "(Lamian)" in parentheses turned it into cosmic garbage delivered straight to his doorstep.
What possible harm could lamian ever do to him?
He slurped a huge mouthful.
…
Then blinked.
The noodles that had been scorching his tongue like molten lava a minute ago were now… pleasantly warm. No blowing needed. Straight down the hatch.
He tilted the bowl and chugged the soup.
Zero burn.
…Huh. Actually kinda magical.
Still trash. Pure comedy skill. 0/10 practical use.
Comedy or not, eating speed went supersonic.
Two minutes later Satoru set down a completely empty bowl while Sakura's delicate wonton soup was still half full.
He stood.
"Ah—!" Sakura dropped her spoon with a clink, scrambling to rise. Useless… wrong tickets, even eats slower than Kobayashi-kun…
"?"
Satoru looked genuinely confused. "Toilet. Eat slowly, no rush."
"…O-Oh." She sat back down, cheeks pink.
He walked off.
Sakura secretly watched his retreating back, tiny sips of broth.
Kobayashi-kun is… really gentle. Didn't blame me once for the ticket disaster. Forgave everything.
But…
A tiny, secret corner of her heart itched.
Relieved he didn't scold her… yet somehow, just a little, disappointed? Like she almost wanted one tiny scratch from a cat's paw.
While Sakura spiraled into yamato nadeshiko overthinking hell, the restaurant door opened.
A young mom walked in, early thirties, innocent face, murderous curves.
Even Sakura had to admit: mature married women played in a different league.
Trailing behind was a little boy—fourth or fifth grade, pretty cute.
"Ren-kun, come here~" Mom called softly.
The kid ignored her completely, arrogant sneer on his face.
Mom sighed, stroked her cheek, and went to order.
The second she turned, "Ren-kun's" eyes locked onto her ass like heat-seeking missiles. Gulped audibly.
Sakura: …
She remembered asking Satoru on the way here: "Do you like kids?"
His answer had been instant and flat: "Dislike."
Now she understood why.
Roadside kids = lively and cute. This Ren-kun = walking red flag.
Ren-kun noticed the stare, shot her a threatening glare.
Sakura just curved her eyes into a perfect crescent smile and went back to her soup.
Ren resumed openly ogling.
…
Men's restroom.
Ratatatatatata—
Satoru finished unloading the Yellow River into the urinal, shook Barrett twice, tucked it away.
Verdict: refreshing.
He moved to wash hands—then decided to use a stall instead. Didn't want to scare the civilians with overkill.
Hand on the door.
Two voices outside.
Frivolous baby-face: "Bro, that chick is insane—face and body both S-tier."
Gruff voice: "Wonder how tight she is… legs look like they clamp hard."
"Relax, Handa-bro, total virgin~ I'm experienced~"
"Virgin's good. Harder to hook later."
"No prob, bro. Plan's set—just slip something in when we invite her up."
"Hmph. Inviting is on you. She's more into you anyway—baby face privilege. Jealous."
"Relax, we take turns~ I'm handsome, sharing is caring, right?"
"Thanks for the assist anyway, Maeda-chan…"
"Right, what's the name again?"
"Kobayashi~ hahaha, don't mess it up when you sweet-talk later—"
BANG!
The stall door exploded open.
Two guys turned, unbothered. Just some kid eavesdropping, whatever.
They even gave him the "you get it, bro" look.
Satoru didn't leave.
Corner of his mouth curved up.
"Calling me?"
Handa: "Hm? Nah."
Satoru unsheathed the bokutō in one smooth motion.
WHACK!
Direct hit to the back of Handa's head.
Dong!
Handa's chin slammed straight into the urinal, making out with his own piss.
Red-haired baby-face froze. "W-What the fu—"
Satoru's grin went full Vector-running grandpa.
"Beat you till you piss yourselves☆"
Next three seconds:
WHACK! CRACK! THUD! THUD! THUD!
The restroom echoed with the symphony of justice.
-------------------------------
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