Chapter 8: Invitation
Kazuma stood there, arms crossed, staring down at his two beaten subordinates who were sprawled on the ground like broken dolls. One guy had his face so swollen he looked like he’d been stung by a whole nest of wasps, while the other was clutching his ribs and whimpering like a kicked dog. Blood trickled from split lips and bruised noses, painting a pretty clear picture of what had gone down.
"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath, but his eyes weren’t filled with disappointment. If anything, there was a glint of interest there, maybe even respect. That Haruto kid wasn’t just some random transfer student after all. Anyone who could turn his guys into human punching bags deserved some attention.
He’d been running this school for two years now, ever since he’d beaten the previous top dog into submission during his second year. Nobody had given him this much trouble since then. Most new kids either joined up willingly or got taught their place real quick. But this Haruto... he was different. The way he’d handled himself, the casual confidence he’d shown while dismantling two experienced fighters – that wasn’t beginner’s luck.
Kazuma scratched his chin, deep in thought. Yeah, this guy definitely wasn’t ordinary. The question was, what to do about it? He could try to crush him completely, make an example out of him, but that might backfire. Smart move would be to bring him into the fold. A guy with that kind of skill would be useful to have around.
"Yo, Kenji!" he called out to one of his other lackeys who was leaning against the wall, trying to look tough but mostly just looking bored.
The guy didn’t respond. He was just standing there like a statue, staring up at the sky with this weird, vacant expression on his face. His mouth was slightly open, and he had this dreamy look in his eyes like he was watching clouds turn into cotton candy or something equally stupid.
"Kenji!" Kazuma called again, louder this time.
Still nothing. The idiot was completely spaced out, lost in his own little world. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, and he actually sighed contentedly, like he was having some kind of spiritual moment up there.
Kazuma felt his eye start to twitch. This was exactly the kind of crap that made him want to knock heads together. Here he was, trying to run a proper organization, and his guys were daydreaming like elementary school kids during math class.
"What the hell is wrong with you today?" Kazuma snapped, marching over to where Kenji was standing.
The guy didn’t even notice him approaching. He was completely gone, probably thinking about whatever nonsense teenagers think about when they’re not paying attention to important stuff. Girls, video games, what to have for lunch – who knew? All Kazuma knew was that it was pissing him off.
Without warning, Kazuma’s hand shot out and connected with Kenji’s cheek in a sharp slap that echoed through the hallway. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet school building.