Dragging two motorcycles with bare hands— that was impossible.
Even for Dou Tang, without transforming into the Fall Guy, a feat like that was beyond human. But buying a few seconds—just enough to break free of the chains—
that, he could do.
His right arm bent low, his left arm bulged beneath his black sleeve, muscles swelling like living steel, sculpted and precise.
A low crack echoed as raw power surged through him.
The two motorcycles chained to him suddenly began to skid, their tires screeching against concrete.
And that fleeting moment of slippage— was all he needed.
The bikes lurched inward, front wheels veering toward each other. Before their startled riders could even react, Dou Tang moved.
Using the backward pull of the chains, he vaulted upward, twisting midair in a graceful, impossible arc.
He flipped once—then landed light, both feet braced apart, breath even, arms extended.
The chains rattled in his hands. His neck—free at last.
How… how did he undo it?
No one had seen.
The clash of headlights and shadows had hidden everything; when he leapt, he'd been nothing but a silhouette—cutting through chaos like a blade through smoke.
The two motorcycles skidded backward, their riders screaming.
Dou Tang pivoted, sprang again, and flipped neatly over the taut chains.
He landed facing them—eye to eye with the stunned delinquents still clinging to their bikes. A low, cruel smile curved his lips.
Then he raised both arms—and slammed the chains into the ground.
BANG!
The sound cracked like thunder.
The two chains whipped against concrete, bounced, and fell limp.
The bikes fishtailed violently; their riders swerved, lost control, and nearly collided with the ones blocking the exit.
The clatter of chains echoed through the lot.
Dou Tang exhaled sharply. His patience had run out.
"Forget it," he said coldly, turning his head. "Looks like none of you realized who the hunter really is."
He raised his eyes.
"Then we'll skip the warm-up."
He strode toward the nearest pair of riders. One panicked, yanking a steel pipe from his belt and swinging wildly.
Dou Tang sidestepped. The pipe whistled past his ear.
He stepped in close—too fast to follow—and drove a single punch into the man's jaw.
In the thug's vision, the world flipped. A shadow loomed—
something struck like lightning— and then everything went black.
One punch. Out cold.
Dou Tang shifted his footing with short, economical steps, weaving between three more attacks. His body flowed like smoke—silent, deliberate, unstoppable.
He grabbed the unconscious biker by the collar and flung him backward.
The hundred-pound body sailed through the air, hit the ground with a dull thud, and didn't move again.
The remaining three jumped off their bikes, brandishing bats and clubs. Dou Tang lowered his stance, a crouching tiger poised to strike.
Then he did.
He surged forward, fists flashing. His blows landed not on vital points but on joints— pure, efficient brutality.
Each strike shattered bone through sheer force.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Three weapons clattered to the ground. Three men dropped, writhing in agony.
Without a word, Dou Tang grabbed each one by the collar and tossed them aside like broken dolls. Their bodies rolled across the concrete to join the growing heap.
Eighteen down already.
He turned again, silent now. No more taunts.
No more warnings.
A hunt didn't need words.
And since the prey refused to run— he'd drag them down himself.
Dou Tang lunged toward the right flank, slipping into the darkness beyond the headlights. From the blackness came startled shouts—
then screams—
then the wet, heavy thud of flesh meeting steel.
One by one, motorcycles toppled. The sounds told the story of his path where no one could see: each crash, each scream marking where the monster walked.
Panic spread like wildfire.
Someone gunned their engine and bolted for the exit through the gap he'd made. Then another.
Fear shattered what little discipline they had. Loyalty, pride—meaningless now.
When one coward runs, the rest follow. The shadows erupted into chaos—
bikes overturning, bodies scattering, the air thick with exhaust and dust.
One man tried to flee, but a chain lashed out from the dark, looping around his neck. He was yanked backward, dragged screaming into blackness—
and that single, strangled cry pierced every heart like a needle.
Kanekawa Ryūnosuke, their so-called leader, revved his bike in panic.
"Run! Run! Split up!" he roared, voice cracking.
The command turned panic into a stampede. Engines flared. Tires screamed.
Dozens of riders surged for the gate, desperate to escape the nightmare in the dark.
No one looked back.
No one called for the mohawked Yohei, the one who'd led Dou Tang here. No one dared.
Those who didn't make it out were dragged into the light one by one—
bodies tossed like trash into the flickering pool of white, piling beneath the glare of their own headlights.
Yohei could only watch as the ground in front of him filled with the broken bodies of his friends. Then—
a faint glow cut through the dark.
Someone was smoking. "Phew…"
Dou Tang exhaled, stepping into the light.
He stood atop a fallen motorcycle, one hand gripping a limp body by the ankle, dragging it behind him.
He flicked the cigarette from his lips and coughed.
"Cough… What the hell—people actually smoke these things for fun?"
He dropped the unconscious man, wiped a smear of blood from his mouth, and turned toward the mohawked youth by the gate.
His expression didn't change—
but his eyes were colder now, edges honed by exhaustion and violence.
He couldn't help it.
Fighting that many without transforming had taken a toll. He began counting the bodies like livestock.
"One, two… hm."
He clapped his hands softly.
"Eighteen." Yohei's shoulders shook.
"Why didn't you run?" Dou Tang asked, head tilting slightly. His tone was flat, like a knife scraping glass.
Yohei stammered.
"E-even if I ran, you'd just catch me, right?! The moment you sat behind me, I knew—you're not human!"
Dou Tang raised an eyebrow.
Yohei suddenly bowed so hard his forehead nearly hit the ground.
"Kiryu-san! I—I'm sorry! I shouldn't have messed with you! Please forgive me!"
Smart boy, Dou Tang thought. At least you know when to quit.
He didn't answer.
He just swung a leg over one of the remaining bikes, started the engine, and let it growl beneath him.
As he idled toward the exit, Yohei stayed frozen—still bowing, too terrified to look up.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" Dou Tang asked mildly. "I thought you gang boys lived for 'honor'?"
Yohei swallowed hard.
"I—I'm still in high school! I only joined because my friends said I looked tough! They—they pushed me into it!"
Dou Tang snorted softly. "Which school?"
"K-Keishi Suzuki High!" he blurted, then saw Dou Tang's glare and corrected himself instantly.
"I mean—it's true! Keishi Suzuki High School!" Dou Tang nodded.
"Cut your hair. Go back to class Monday morning. After school, wait for me by the gate. If I don't see you there…"
He smiled faintly.
"You're done."
Yohei trembled, bowing lower. "Y-yes, sir!"
The motorcycle engine growled as Dou Tang rolled out of the lot and vanished into the night. Only after the sound faded did Yohei dare to straighten.
He turned.
The lot was chaos—
twenty-some motorcycles toppled over, headlights flickering weakly.
Eighteen men lay sprawled beneath that harsh white light, unconscious and bloodied, like fallen soldiers on a battlefield.
Yohei stared blankly.
He'd heard the rumors before—
stories of a bartender in Ikebukuro with inhuman strength,
of a woman who'd wiped out an entire yakuza clan by herself, and of a little girl near Tokyo who no one could defeat.
He'd laughed at them once.
But after tonight—after seeing Kiryu Dou Tang with his own eyes— he realized those legends might be true.
There really were things in this world that ordinary people were never meant to touch. Almost without thinking, Yohei lifted his trembling phone.
He aimed it at the carnage before him—
—and took a picture.
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested: patreon.com/FicBridge