Those heirs of the great, entrenched exorcist families—people born into power and resources—would never need to come to the black market just to get their hands on C-rank yokai serum. Even C+-rank serum would be trivial for them to obtain through legitimate channels.
Which meant that, in Ketsuhyō's eyes, there was no way Ren Kuroda belonged to one of those influential exorcist clans.
The far more likely possibility was that Ren came from the same background as Yuina Yako's older sister—part of the very first wave of graduates from exorcist academies across the country.
And when it came to those academy-trained exorcists, Ketsuhyō wasn't afraid in the slightest.
After all, unlike clan heirs who awakened spiritual power from childhood, how long had these students even been awakened? A few years at most. On top of that, they had no powerful backers supporting them from behind the scenes.
So even the most talented among those graduates would be capped at C-rank strength at best.
As for Ketsuhyō himself? He was a C+-rank serum warrior.
Sure, compared to exorcists, serum warriors had fewer techniques and tricks up their sleeves—but that didn't mean he feared them.
And besides, this was the black market.
There were plenty of big shots backing this place. Ketsuhyō didn't believe for a second that anyone would dare do anything to him here.
With that confidence propping him up, the filth pouring out of his mouth toward Yuina Yako grew more and more obscene—until Ren Kuroda, standing nearby, finally couldn't tolerate it anymore.
People who survived in the black market relied on two things: sharp eyes and ruthless judgment.
Ren actually agreed with much of what Ketsuhyō had said earlier. In fact, the reason he hadn't spoken up at all was because he wanted Yuina Yako to learn a lesson—to stop trusting strangers so easily.
But the ridicule and outright humiliation that followed crossed a line.
Ketsuhyō was pushing it.
Ren stepped forward, slowly approaching the towering figure of Ketsuhyō. Seeing Ren walk toward him, Ketsuhyō's face remained full of arrogant disdain.
"What? Am I wrong?" Ketsuhyō sneered. "That little girl was still pure, you know. Too bad she got snatched up first by a spineless nobody like you."
"For brats like you, I, Ketsuhyō—"
Even as Ren closed the distance, Ketsuhyō remained completely unfazed.
Because he was certain no one dared to start a fight in the black market.
In fact, his constant taunting had been deliberate. He was provoking Ren and Yuina into striking first—so he could retaliate openly.
The black market strictly forbade fighting, yes—but counterattacks were another matter entirely.
Ketsuhyō had absolute confidence in his own strength. With his C+-rank power, dealing with two young punks should be effortless.
And even if—worst case scenario—he had misjudged Ren's strength, even if the pretty boy turned out to be his equal or slightly stronger, it wouldn't matter.
Once the black market's enforcers arrived, the ones who threw the first punch would still be Ren and Yuina.
As the one who merely "defended himself," Ketsuhyō might receive nothing more than a warning.
Given his connections here, he might not even get that.
Despite his rough, brutish appearance, Ketsuhyō was actually extremely cunning—a schemer through and through.
On the surface, his behavior looked stupid, reckless, almost brainless.
In reality, he was methodically driving Ren and Yuina straight into a dead end.
If it had been anyone else—even someone stronger than him—Ketsuhyō might have already succeeded in getting them killed.
Because he didn't need to overpower his opponent.
He only needed to last until the black market's peacekeepers arrived.
What Ketsuhyō could never have imagined, even in his dreams, was that the "pretty boy" he looked down on wasn't just a little stronger than him—
He was stronger by a truly absurd margin.
This wasn't a case of underestimation.
Ketsuhyō didn't even qualify to measure Ren Kuroda's strength.
He was about to continue his verbal assault when his words abruptly cut off mid-sentence.
Because despite being far larger than Ren—
His head was suddenly gripped in one hand and lifted off the ground.
Ren Kuroda held him there effortlessly.
A terrifying force crushed down through Ketsuhyō's skull, sending indescribable agony tearing through his head. A scream burst from his throat.
Ketsuhyō struggled wildly, trying to break free.
Useless.
Ren's arm was like an iron vice. No matter how much strength Ketsuhyō poured into it, he couldn't budge it even a fraction.
In sheer desperation, Ketsuhyō erupted with the full aura of a C+-rank serum warrior. Clenching his fists, he unleashed a storm of blows, raining punches across Ren's body like a downpour.
But the moment his fists landed—
Ketsuhyō felt as though he were smashing his hands against solid steel.
Ren didn't move. He didn't block. He didn't evade.
He simply stood there and took it all.
And while Ren remained completely unscathed, Ketsuhyō's own hand bones shattered under the impact.
The result was nothing short of horrific.
"You were deliberately provoking us earlier," Ren said calmly. "Trying to bait us into striking first, right?"
"So how does that feel now?"
"In the black market, having good judgment really is important. On that point, I agree with you."
"But unfortunately… your judgment is terrible."
"You've got some scheming ability, I'll give you that. But a fool who can't even gauge his opponent's strength?"
"That's just troublesome."
Did Ketsuhyō regret it?
Of course he did.
If he'd known from the start that Ren was this kind of monster, he would never have provoked him—or at the very least, he would have chosen a far more cautious approach.
He had succeeded in angering Ren, just as planned.
But the outcome was nothing like what he'd envisioned.
This wasn't Ren being "slightly stronger."
This was absolute, merciless domination.
At this rate, even if the black market enforcers arrived later to punish Ren, Ketsuhyō suspected his own corpse would already be cold by then.
"My lord!" Ketsuhyō cried out in panic. "Earlier… I was blind and ignorant! I admit my mistake! I'm willing to offer sincere compensation—anything to satisfy you! Please, just spare my worthless life!"
Faced with death itself, the man who once looked so vicious folded instantly.
And why wouldn't he?
Ketsuhyō had lived through countless storms. Only idiots tried to tough it out when faced with certain death.
Knowing when to bend—that was the mark of a true survivor.
His thoughts were crystal clear.
Survive first.
As for this so-called "sincerity," it was nothing more than empty words.
All he needed was to stall until the black market's enforcers arrived.
He refused to believe that someone who dared to fight here—Ren Kuroda—would be allowed to leave unscathed.
As he begged for mercy, Ketsuhyō cursed inwardly at the spectators around them.
What are you idiots waiting for? Hurry up and call the people in charge already!
The commotion had long since drawn a massive crowd.
Conflicts over transactions were common in the black market—but actual physical violence?
That was rare.
Extremely rare.
Not long ago, a few exorcists from powerful families had tried to throw their weight around and fight here.
They'd been beaten half to death by the enforcers who arrived afterward—and after that, no one ever dared break this iron rule again.
If even exorcists from great families could be crushed without consequence, then the forces backing the black market…
Were clearly far beyond what ordinary people could imagine.