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"Come on, take a swing, weakling." Ryoji tapped his chest, flashing a warm smile.
To an outsider, he might've seemed like an old friend greeting his comrades after years apart. Who would've thought he could throw out such a provoking challenge with that expression?
"What the hell did you just say?!"
Predictably, the lackey took the bait and threw a punch straight at Ryoji's head.
'Going for the face? Seriously?'
Ryoji had planned to just stand there and take the hit— enduring a punch wouldn't be a big deal. But aiming for his face? That was pushing it.
With Healing-type Blazers around, even a broken nose could be patched up in seconds, so there is no need for a healing capsule. That rich lady watching from the side wouldn't lose interest in him just because of a little blood.
But do I really want to let him mess up my face?
"Duang~!"
The Mohican lackey's fist connected—
—or rather, it felt like he had just punched a steel plate.
A split second later, his face twisted in agony, his fist trembling uncontrollably.
"Áo—"
"Aaaah! My hand! It hurts!"
Before he could even finish screaming, the so-called pretty boy in front of him suddenly stumbled backward, wailing like a wounded pig.
Ryoji blinked.
'Was that guy… faking it?'
The lackey, still clutching his hand, stared blankly. Did I actually hit him that hard?
But before he could process it, Ryoji popped back up as if nothing had happened.
"Bang!"
A barely noticeable strike landed on the lackey's chest.
Before he could react, he was already on the floor.
The entire restaurant erupted into chaos.
"You bastard!"
"You dare to lay a hand on us?!"
"Beat him to a pulp!"
A dozen lackeys charged forward.
At the back, a shark-toothed man remained motionless, his cold gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.
Ryoji's eyes flicked around the room.
He had positioned himself perfectly— only three people could reach him at once in the narrow aisle.
"Vrring~!"
His silver katana gleamed as it sliced through the air.
"Ah!"
"Áo!"
"What the—?!"
Ryoji swung with a flick of his wrist.
Not out of mercy, but because he deliberately used the back of the blade to strike.
The first lackey to rush in took the blunt edge straight to the face. His molars flew, and his body twisted as he crumpled into his companions, both of them collapsing with loud, panicked yelps.
The third guy tried to charge but tripped over his fallen comrades, crashing into the growing pile of bodies.
With the aisle so narrow, one misstep meant a domino effect.
"This guy..."
"Is he actually strong?"
The remaining seven or eight hesitated, watching three of their own get taken down in a single motion. None of them dared to step forward.
"Stand down."
The cold voice finally came from the back.
The shark-toothed man had spoken.
The lackeys, relieved to have an excuse, quickly backed off.
"Heh… didn't expect to run into a real swordsman here."
Despite his arrogant tone, the man sounded intrigued.
"Taking down three guys in one strike— never seen a swordsman like you before. You're stronger than you look. This might actually be fun."
Grinning, he stepped forward, extending a hand.
"Let's get to know each other. Name's Kurashiki Kuraudo, third-year at Donrou Academy."
"Nangou Ryoji, first-year at Hagun Academy."
Ryoji eyed him as he switched his katana to his left hand, then reached out with his right.
"—Chase the enemy, Orochimaru!"
As their hands met.
The man bared his shark-like teeth in a vicious grin, his expression feral as he raised his left hand. In an instant, his Device materialized— a bone-white katana appearing in his grasp.
It's segmented structure resembled a spine, each joint lined with jagged protrusions. The entire blade was pale as bleached bone, exuding an eerie aura. One swing, and it could easily turn the battlefield into a bloodbath.
Without hesitation, he slashed at Ryoji's neck, his left hand guiding the bone katana at a speed too fast for the untrained eye to follow. He didn't intend to give Ryoji even a moment to react.
Had the strike been in its Material Form, it would have been more than enough to sever his head.
But while he was fast—
Someone else was faster.
Before he could fully swing his Device, Ryoji had already raised his left hand.
With a subtle flick of his wrist—
"Crack!"
The feral grin on the man's face froze as his bone katana had been caught mid-air.
Ryoji's gleaming silver blade was perfectly angled, and its tip pressed against the jaw of the segmented weapon, stopping the attack in its tracks.
Fast.
Precise.
Using his non-dominant left hand, Ryoji couldn't exert full force, and he knew the segmented nature of the bone katana made it easier to manipulate at the joints.
But this wasn't just about strength—
To anticipate a surprise attack, intercept it mid-motion, and apply just enough force to pin the blade at its weakest leverage point—
That was something else entirely.
Even more impressive, Ryoji hadn't trapped it at the joints, where the structure was naturally weaker. Instead, he wedged his sword at the jaw of the katana's segmented form, dispersing the attacking force to its maximum extent.
In short— he had countered raw power with sheer technique.
This guy… is interesting.
"Whoa! A sneak attack? That's just shameless! No martial virtue at all!"
The man feigned a look of shock, his exaggerated expression almost comical.
'Hah. Who does he think he's fooling?'
Ryoji didn't buy the act.
Anyone who could react to a surprise attack like that— and counter it so effortlessly— had no reason to be afraid.
Still, it was clear the guy was in a good mood. Instead of pressing the issue, he grinned and spoke up.
"Hey, you're Nangou Ryoji, right? Let's fight! No tricks, no interruptions— real swords, real stakes. First one to die loses!"
His eyes gleamed with a feverish battle lust.
The bone katana leveled at Ryoji, an unmistakable challenge.
In his mind, there was no way Ryoji would turn him down. A true swordsman wouldn't refuse such an invitation.
"I refuse. I'm a model student."
The words came without hesitation.
The atmosphere deflated instantly.
"…You already manifested your Device, and you were the one who started this fight. What the hell are you talking about?"
"How can you accuse me of such slander?"
Ryoji looked genuinely offended as he lifted his Vrring Katana with a resolute expression.
"I was simply speaking with you calmly, and you attacked first. I had no choice but to defend myself using my family heirloom— this is a family heirloom, not a Device." Kurashiki Kuraudo's cheek twitched.
This guy… was actually serious?
"If you don't believe me, I have video evidence!" Ryoji turned his head with absolute confidence.
In the corner of the aisle, Kanata stood silently, holding up her student handbook— recording everything.
The air in the room grew tense.
Ryoji and Kurashiki Kuraudo faced off.
Kanata kept recording, unfazed.
The Donrou Academy students hesitated, looking at one another uncertainly.
At the back of the room, Ayatsuji Ayase watched in silence.
(End of Chapter)