The phone rang three times before stopping. It must have been picked up upstairs by Shin'nosuke on duty.
A few seconds later, Shin'nosuke came running down from the third floor. "Call from HQ! They want to speak with the boss."
Tsuda Masaaki immediately headed upstairs.
Ōta Jūzō shot a glare at the beaten and bruised delinquents. "Completely useless! Didn't I tell you to go dressed like regular students?"
One of the punks blurted out, betraying a companion on the spot. "Amo said if we took that guy out, maybe we'd get promoted to full shatei…"
Ōta Jūzō narrowed his eyes slightly, giving the one called Amo a cold smile. "You're not wrong. If you had really managed to beat the dojo master to a pulp, you'd probably have earned a spot. But tell me—how'd you get the idea you could take down someone even we haven't touched directly?"
The punks looked at each other, speechless.
Ōta Jūzō continued, voice icy. "You think being able to fight is enough to become yakuza? You're underestimating this world. If you don't have brains, you'll die a very miserable death here."
"I…!" Amo looked like he wanted to protest, but Ōta Jūzō cut him off with a sharp bark:
"Then get lost!"
At that, a few shatei stationed on the first floor stood up and began kicking and shoving the punks toward the door. "You heard him—get out!"
Once they'd chased all the delinquents away, Tsuda Masaaki came back downstairs. Upon seeing Ōta Jūzō, he immediately said, "I'm heading to HQ."
Ōta Jūzō shouted toward a shatei, "Start the car! Idiot—do I have to spell out everything for you?"
But Tsuda Masaaki stopped him. "No. Shin'nosuke will drive me."
"Understood." Shin'nosuke quickly stepped forward and took the keys from the shatei who had been about to drive.
Compared to Nishiyama-gumi, Tsuda-gumi had a lot more money; they even kept several cars. For this trip to HQ, they'd be using their best— a Toyota Crown kept parked about 700 meters away.
Among domestic cars, the Crown was considered fairly high-end. It was currently the best car Tsuda-gumi could afford.
Keys in hand, Shin'nosuke dashed off.
Ōta Jūzō stepped closer and asked, "So? Is there a big move coming before the next Kanto Union executive meeting?"
"Even if there is, it won't involve us—we're not exactly known for muscle," Tsuda Masaaki replied with a shrug. "More likely, they want us to wrap up this Kiryu dojo business sooner rather than later."
"An order straight from HQ?" Ōta Jūzō frowned. "I mean, sure, the dojo's on decent land, but is it really worth HQ's direct attention?"
After all, most of the yakuza's profits these days came from areas like Shibuya and Kabukichō. Kitakatsushi Ward hadn't really developed yet—there wasn't much money to be made here.
Real estate was the one exception, but even then, land prices in Kitakatsushi hadn't taken off yet.
Tsuda Masaaki took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaled a smoke ring, and said quietly, "Maybe it's about keeping certain old rivals in check."
Just then, Shin'nosuke pulled up in the Toyota Crown, braking sharply in front of the office.
"Make sure the breaker's fixed," Tsuda Masaaki ordered, tossing his cigarette aside after only a couple of puffs. He ground it out with his heel. "It'll be dark soon. I don't want to come back to a pitch-black office."
"Yes, sir." Ōta Jūzō bowed.
With that, Tsuda Masaaki climbed into the Crown, which roared off into the distance.
Meanwhile, at the Kiryu dojo—
After dinner, Kazuma was, as usual, training and meditating in the dojo.
The punks who'd come to pick a fight that afternoon felt more like a reminder from the yakuza: We haven't forgotten about you.
Which meant Kazuma needed to step up his training even more.
Still, he had a hunch. The fact that they'd sent such low-level lackeys probably meant they weren't planning any big moves in the immediate future.
Someone—maybe Nishiyama Heita—had mentioned that after the Kanto Union executive meeting, the dojo would officially fall under Tsuda-gumi's jurisdiction.
So for now, Kazuma figured he still had time to grow stronger.
In meditation, he glanced at his experience bar. Estimating roughly—if he beat two more opponents as strong as that coach today, he could level his Shintō-ryū 6 up to Shintō-ryū 7.
He didn't know exactly how much that would boost his actual fighting power, but any boost was welcome.
He was also starting to get a better feel for buffing techniques. With more time, he might even be able to trigger buffs consciously during fights.
When that happens? Hah—those yakuza won't stand a chance, no matter how many they send.
Once the yakuza threat was dealt with, he could fully embrace his youthful life again—aiming for nationals in kendo, preparing for the Todai entrance exams, maybe even falling in love.
Mikako's basically one confession away… The class rep definitely has a thing for me, too…
And there's that rich girl with the Lincoln—Nanjo-san!
Deciding who to date will take days of agonizing. Now that's what youth is about!
Smiling to himself, Kazuma thought: I'll head to Akutagawa Dojo this weekend. If I can spar with a few more strong opponents, maybe I can push all the way to Shintō-ryū 8 in one go!
Decision made, he ended his meditation and began practicing.
After training for a while, Kazuma put away his bamboo sword—only to realize that Chiyoko wasn't in the dojo.
Usually, even if she wasn't training with him, she'd be there watching, ready with barley tea and snacks.
A sudden wave of worry hit him. He called out loudly:
"Chiyoko!"
Her voice came from the direction of the storeroom. "I'm over here!"
Kazuma hurried over and found Chiyoko rummaging through a messy pile of old stuff.
"What are you doing?" Kazuma asked, puzzled.
"I'm trying to find something for self-defense—like a wooden sword or maybe even a real one that didn't get sold."
Just as she said that, her hip bumped a stack of old books, triggering a mini-avalanche of clutter.
"Ahhh!"
With a shriek, Chiyoko was buried under a pile of old books and clothes.
The cloud of dust was so thick it pushed Kazuma back from the doorway.
Anyone seeing the dust billow out might've thought the storeroom had collapsed.
"You okay?!" Kazuma called, waving the dust aside.
"I'm fine! Cough, cough…"
Kazuma cautiously peered inside, covering his nose. He saw Chiyoko wriggling out from under the mess.
Just then, a conical straw hat tumbled down the pile and rolled to Kazuma's feet.
He picked it up, surprised. "A straw hat? You only see these in taiga dramas nowadays."
Chiyoko glanced over and explained, "That was Grandpa's. He didn't like using umbrellas, so he wore that on rainy days. After he passed away, we packed it away."
Kazuma inspected the hat more carefully, half-hoping to see some kind of magical glow—maybe wearing it would grant Grandpa's blessing.
No such luck.
By then, Chiyoko had crawled free. She hopped out of the storeroom, brushing dust off her uniform. "Ugh, this definitely needs washing. And I'm not sure if the other one's dry yet—I washed it three days ago."
"Just iron it?" Kazuma suggested.
"Yeah… I guess that's the only option." She sighed, then looked at him seriously. "Onii-chan… do you think the yakuza will come back?"
"I'm afraid so." Kazuma nodded.
"I'm sorry…" Chiyoko lowered her head again, hands clasped in front of her. "It's my fault. My stubbornness caused all this trouble for you."
Kazuma reached out and gently patted her head. "It's done. No point dwelling on it. We'll face this together, okay?"
"But… I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about it. I can't see any way out…"
"Leave it to me." Kazuma patted his chest. I've got a cheat, after all, he thought.
But Chiyoko still looked anxious.
"If it really comes to it… we can sell the dojo for five million. I'll graduate junior high this year. I could skip high school and work, so you can go to university…"
"Don't even think about it!" Kazuma cut her off sharply. "You'd give up your future? No way!"
"But…"
"No buts! I'll handle this dojo problem! You focus on graduating high school. Trust me!" He squeezed her shoulder and met her gaze with firm determination.
Chiyoko hesitated, then finally smiled and nodded. "Okay. I trust you, Onii-chan. But promise me—you won't do anything reckless."
Kazuma almost said "I won't," but caught himself. Wouldn't that be a lie?
His cheat only pointed him in the right direction—it didn't guarantee quick success. It was unlikely he'd gain the strength to truly threaten top yakuza in such a short time.
Nishiyama Heita was a level 12 street brawler. Kazuma had only beaten him thanks to a favorable environment.
Most yakuza pros were probably level 10–12 or higher, and they'd have powerful traits like Nishiyama's "Oni Mask."
And I'm not even level 7 yet…
"Onii-chan?"
"Oh—yes, I promise. I won't do anything reckless." Kazuma forced the words out.
Chiyoko didn't look reassured. "Then… maybe I really should quit school and work. This is all my fault—I should take responsibility."
"I told you—stop saying that!" Kazuma raised his voice again. "If there was a mistake, it's mine too—for not convincing you sooner. But I will make sure you finish high school. And I will get into Todai. That's my promise as a man. Are you going to let me break my word?"
Chiyoko's mouth opened slightly. She looked at him for a long moment, then said softly, "No. I won't. Onii-chan…"
Suddenly, she threw herself into his arms, face buried in his chest, shoulders trembling with quiet sobs.
Kazuma was caught off guard. He hadn't expected her to cry—but instinctively, he held her close and gently stroked her hair.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "Everything will be alright."
"Mm." Chiyoko's voice was small but steady.
(End of Chapter)