Chapter 181: Royalty
"Yu"—an archaic, regal way of saying "I."
To someone well-educated, hearing a person address themselves as "Yu" would
immediately signal that the tanned, long-haired man was of high-born or noble
lineage. To someone a bit more uncouth, the man would just seem strangely
pretentious.
But Arisa Sakurai's train of thought didn't align with either of those.
She was a girl with a "big heart"—the kind of person whose optimism bordered on
total obliviousness. In her mind, she had always been lucky, so having a
stranger strike up a conversation was just another good thing happening. She
didn't have the patience for complex deductions.
So, after a brief moment of surprise, she simply accepted the man's eccentric
way of speaking and proceeded to share more of her snacks with him.
"Here, have some potato chips."
"There is no need. I—"
"How about some Chocolate Bamboo Shoots?"
"As I said—"
"Try the Cola then."
"...Thank you."
The man found himself unable to refuse her. He accepted the snacks, handing the
bag to the suited bodyguards behind him while keeping the bottle of Cola for
himself.
Pshhh—!
As the man cracked open the Cola, his bodyguards tensed up, looking like they
wanted to intervene. "Your Majesty..."
But the long-haired man cut them off with a calm wave of his hand.
"It is fine. My intuition for people is rarely wrong. This young lady is no
threat. There is no need for such tension."
"..."
Since the Prince had spoken, the two bodyguards exchanged a look and reluctantly
stood down.
The long-haired man murmured under his breath, "After all, her elder brother is
a powerhouse that even someone like Metsudo Katahara holds in high regard..."
He raised the bottle, clinked it against Arisa's popcorn bucket as if making a
toast, and the two of them enjoyed a refreshing drink together.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the booth...
Ren Shiroki finished apologizing to the corporate representative for almost
totaling the boxing machine. He still managed to walk away with the prize—a
"Boxing Bear" plushie.
After handing the doll to Fusui Kure, Ren heard his sister's voice calling out
from nearby. He turned around, scanning the crowd, and eventually spotted Arisa
chatting away happily with the long-haired stranger.
At that moment, the two bodyguards in suits were trying to ease their own
anxiety by making small talk.
"It's alright. This event is backed by the Kengan Association. It's not like
we're in a war zone. We shouldn't worry too much."
"That's true. His Highness is safe here."
"Right? It's not like we're going to run into professional assassins or
dangerous terrorists in a place like this."
"..."
Fusui Kure, a high-end professional assassin from the legendary Kure Clan,
walked up right then. She held the plushie in one arm while reaching into
Arisa's lap with the other to grab a handful of popcorn.
Simultaneously, Ren Shiroki—who wasn't a terrorist, but was currently being
hunted by five dangerous death row convicts—approached Arisa's side and locked
eyes with the long-haired man.
After a brief, heavy silence, the two men reached out and shook hands,
introducing themselves.
"Ren Shiroki."
"Rama. Rama XIII."
"..."
Fusui, who had been playing with her new doll, suddenly paused as the name
clicked in her head. "Rama? As in... the Thai Royal Family?"
She glanced back and forth between them, then leaned toward Ren to provide a
quick briefing:
"Rama XIII. He's the de facto ruler of Thailand's political and economic
sectors. Essentially, he's the King of Thailand. His family has a long-standing
partnership with the Kure Clan, and he's a close personal friend of Old Man
Metsudo."
"..."
At the same time, Rama noticed Fusui's eyes. "Hm? A young lady of the Kure Clan?
A pleasure."
Meeting so many interesting people and receiving snacks had put Rama in an
excellent mood, though he wasn't quite sure how to return the favor.
Fortunately, Ren pulled out a business card for the Soul Combat Hub, giving Rama
an idea.
"Heh. I am fond of straightforward powerhouses."
He reached into his suit and pulled out his own card. Because of his royal
status, the card was pressed from pure gold—a gift reserved only for personal
friends.
"Nice. This is awesome!"
Ren's collection of legendary contacts grew by one. His mood soared. He slung an
arm over Rama's shoulder in a way that was completely informal and ignored all
royal protocol, but the King didn't seem to mind at all.
His bodyguards, however, looked like they were having a collective heart attack.
Rama's "Sword"—the Thai God of War—wasn't here. As his guards, they had to be
extra cautious, but the current situation was just too bizarre. Is it really
okay to let His Highness run wild with these people?
Fortunately, their anxiety didn't have to last much longer.
A familiar face finally arrived, accompanied by an even larger entourage of
bodyguards. It was the current head of the Tokugawa Zaibatsu—Mitsunari Tokugawa!
The short, bald old man was dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono, fluttering
a folding fan as he greeted Rama with a boisterous laugh.
"Hahaha! It's rare to see Prince Rama in a Western suit!"
"Since My 'Sword' is participating in today's festivities, I did not wish to
steal his spotlight," Rama replied with a smile. "It has been a while,
Tokugawa-dono."
"Heh, I see there's no shortage of familiar faces here."
Tokugawa's gaze swept over Arisa and Fusui before finally landing on Ren
Shiroki. "So? Have you found any warriors to your liking yet?"
"I've spotted a few interesting characters," Ren said, looking out over the
venue. "But there are too many people. I'm sure I've missed a few spots."
Tokugawa, as if expecting this, waved his fan and grinned. "No matter. The
tickets for the general public only last until the afternoon. The remaining time
belongs to the VIPs. Things will get much more... unrestricted then."
"Haha, a cunning arrangement indeed," Rama laughed. "But that is precisely why I
allowed My 'Sword' to join this event—as a warm-up for the Kengan Annihilation
Street Brawl."
Tokugawa's grin widened. "You certainly have a lot of confidence in your 'Boxing
Champion,' Prince Rama!"
"As a 'Boxing Champion,' he might find it difficult to stand at the top. But as
'himself,' I wish only to witness his struggle." Rama narrowed his long eyes.
"He always lives up to My expectations, yet I know that deep down, he has
another wish—"
"He wants to trade his life against a truly powerful enemy. To satisfy my old
friend's wish, I shall not be stingy."
As the two were chatting, a sudden commotion erupted not far away.
"There's a match starting!"
"An amateur is challenging an active pro!"
"Heh, is this a dojo-challenge?"
The crowd began to surge toward one of the rings. On the stage, the tension was
thick. The active pro boxer was clearly fuming, likely provoked by his
opponent's arrogance.
"You blonde brat... you think you can look down on us?"
"Gyahahaha! So what if I do? After all... I'm a 'Superman'!"
Ren, Fusui, Rama, and Tokugawa stood below the ring, watching the sudden
outburst. Arisa, meanwhile, was busy passing out snacks to everyone.
Further away, at another entrance to the venue...
Metsudo Katahara, Chairman of the Kengan Association, walked into the hall.
Beside him was a powerfully built man. The man's gaze was as hot as a forge,
radiating a sense of straightforwardness and honesty—the kind of personality
that was clearly dead-serious about everything.
"As a 'Martial Artist,' you've probably never stepped foot in a boxing gym
before, have you?"
Metsudo leaned on his cane, looking up at the man beside him with a mischievous
glint. "From the moment you step inside, you are in the domain of boxing. Do you
intend to fight by their rules?"
The martial artist didn't hesitate. He first thanked Metsudo for the ride, then
let out a low, heavy huff.
"I don't care!"
(End of Chapter)
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