There exists a mysterious entity in Kuoh Academy. About a year ago, out of nowhere, someone began offering "info-brokering" services through LINE for a fair price.
And just like that, whispers turned into rumors. Rumors turned into DMs. Almost every student seemed to know someone who had gotten their hands on this shadowy figure's LINE ID.
The rules of engagement were clear.
Mode of Payment: LinePay only.
Refund Policy: None. No complaints accepted. No refunds.
In the romantic battlefield known as Kuoh Academy, where even bullies become part of youthful memories, finding the identity of this mysterious informant had become something of an urban legend.
Was it a student? A teacher? Maybe a ghost?
Is this person even from this school?
Nobody knew.
***************************
Somewhere in the lower floors of an old school building...
***************************
Tap tap tap…
Rapid, rhythmic keystrokes echoed within the room.
A dim light from a computer monitor, illuminated what looked like the room of an ultimate shut-in. The curtains were drawn, windows taped at the edges. Stacks of instant ramen bowls teetered on a shelf beside the door. Game controllers tangled like vines.
Empty energy drink cans clinked every time the desk chair rocked.
And in that chair, hunched over like a nocturnal owl, sat a petite figure clad in Kuoh Academy's female uniform. Her hood shadowed most of her face. 'His' face.
Gasper Vladi, a.k.a, the Informant.
A Hikkikomori who enjoyed cross-dressing.
"Hm?"
A message pinged in the corner of the screen.
'Hello.'
Gasper's fingers replied before he even read the name.
'Yes?'
Clients usually sent vague questions such as who's cheating on who, where does this girl eat lunch, how to find someone's class schedule. Gasper's database was stronger than the school's own registry. But this one…
'I want info on Hiro Satoru's gang.'
Gasper froze.
His crimson pupils narrowed. He quickly ran a script cross-referencing the LINE ID with his private student database.
Hyoudou Issei.
The keyboard stopped clicking.
"… Buchou's boyfriend!?"
Even with his shadowy role in Kuoh Academy, Gasper kept tabs on everything that went on. He knew all about the current bullying of Class 2-C students—a situation due to Issei beating up Hiro Satoru and his gang. He also knew how Issei had since taken a hands-off approach, doing nothing to stop the aftermath. And he was well aware of the frustration building among Issei's classmates because of it.
However, just yesterday… Motohama and Matsuda had been targeted, so is he finally…
While it was his usual policy to not ask any 'why' questions, curiosity got the better out of Gasper. Since it was online, he naturally felt braver than usual.
'Why?'
Gasper asked, fingers hesitating over the keys.
A minute passed.
'I'm going to do something about Hiro's gang. Want to help me?'
A small spark of hope lit up inside Gasper.
Gasper Vladi was what you'd call a special student at Kuoh Academy due to being a full-blown shut-in with extreme social anxiety, officially part of Rias Gremory's peerage, yet unable to serve her properly as a reincarnated devil.
Not once had she blamed him for that. And for someone like Gasper, that kindness meant everything. He owed her everything about his current safe life.
The best he could come up with to repay his master was to ease her school life by spreading a fake Line ID under Rias Gremory's name among the students to create a safe, online confessions space managed entirely by him.
It had taken off, of course. With Hiro Satoru's reign over the school's social order, the demand for anonymous expression had exploded. But when it came to Hiro himself… there was nothing Gasper could do. The guy was practically untouchable. Even the principal had made it clear: the devils were not to interfere.
But what if this wasn't about devils? Or peerage orders?
This was a client request.
He didn't need to think twice.
'I'm in.'
*******
A Few Days Later…
*******
Step. Step. Step.
Hurried footsteps.
The door to the Kagami house was hastily opened.
Kagami Aizawa rushed up the stairs. His mother's voice came from the kitchen.
"Ai-chan? What happened? What's the rush?"
He didn't answer.
Passing by his brother's room hurriedly, Aizawa reached his own and slammed the door shut behind him.
His breath was shallow. His heart thudded wildly. He started pacing the room in frantic circles.
Sweat clung to his skin. His collar was wrinkled, and the side of his face bore a faint red mark, a scrape. One of his shirt sleeves was torn near the cuff. His fingers trembled slightly.
Unable to calm himself down, he yanked open the drawer and pulled out his diary.
Flip. Flip. Flip.
Pages flew by beneath his fingers.
Thursday:
Hyoudou Issei returned to school today.
Unlike everyone's expectations, Hiro Satoru and Hyoudou Issei didn't have a confrontation. By evening his stance was clear. He wasn't going to interfere… I don't think he owed it to anyone but… I couldn't help but feel disappointed.
Hiro's cronies went an extra mile today. Motohama and Matsuda, who were left alone until now were suddenly dragged into their games… It didn't look like they'd be coming to school tomorrow.
Friday:
The last hope that Hyoudou Issei would step in died today.
Motohama and Matsuda, infamously known as the perverted duo, were supposedly close to him. But even after hearing they got beat up, Issei did nothing.
He was even provoked directly by the seniors who did it. Still, he ignored them. Walked away. He couldn't have made it clearer: he was staying out of this.
The general sentiment in class was a feeling of betrayal. Hyoudou Issei remained unfazed by the cold glares around him.
That annoyed people even more.
However, it reminded me of last year.
Of my brother…
Oops, guess I ranted again.
I stayed out of those hate conversations. Even as I write this, the class group chat is flooded with messages filled with frustration and worry.
Most parents have catched on that something is amiss. The students are on edge, even at home.
Saturday:
—
Aizawa quickly skipped Saturday. Then Sunday. He briefly scanned Monday and Tuesday…
Monday:
Some cameras were found broken today. Everyone's freaked out. Fearing that this was done by Hiro's gang to create more blind spots. More blind spots means more zones where Hiro's gang could do do whatever they want without being seen.
Tuesday:
Motohama and Matsuda returned today.
They seemed relieved hearing Issei hadn't done anything.
Some classmates tried to pull them into the Issei hate-club, but they refused—
Aizawa stopped on a blank page.
Wednesday:
His pen moved fast. Words spilled out as soon as they formed in his head.
Today—
During homeroom—no, it actually started even before that. When I arrived at school, the atmosphere was already tense. Whispers filled the halls. Kisaragi Reina, a third-year senior infamous for targeting female students, had been found unconscious by the pool yesterday evening.
It wasn't from exhaustion or heatstroke. According to the student who discovered her, she'd been practicing alone after club hours. Then someone attacked her.
As I made my way to class, a question lingered in the back of my mind—could it have been another girl? Someone she'd tormented, finally fighting back?
But when Hyoudou Issei was suddenly called to the Principal's office, a different thought struck me.
Could it have been him?
I immediately tried to dismiss it. He's always one of the first to leave school the moment the bell rings. Moreover he didn't seem keen on doing anything against Hiro Satoru and his gang. So… it couldn't be him.
Right?
*********************
8 hours ago, in the Principal's Office
*********************
Hyoudou Issei and Hiro Satoru stood side by side in front of the principal's desk. The tension in the air was almost palpable.
"…Stirring up trouble again, Hyoudou-kun?" Principal Shirogane Kazuro asked, his tone neutral.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Principal," Issei said.
"Where did you go after the final bell yesterday?"
"I wandered for a bit," Issei said, after a pause. "There's an old pawn shop near the station I like to stop by. They sometimes get rare manga volumes in. Figured I'd check."
Shirogane gestured towards Hiro. "Well, Hiro Satoru here has a rather different account."
Issei frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
The principal leaned back in his chair, eyes briefly flicking to a folder on his desk,"Then allow me to clarify. Kisaragi Reina, the swimming club's ace, was found unconscious yesterday evening, near the pool. She'd stayed behind to practice for nationals. According to Hiro Satoru… and Reina herself when she briefly regained consciousness... the one who attacked her was you, Hyoudou Issei."
Issei blinked. "With all due respect, sir, I didn't even know she was on the swimming team until now."
Hiro's expression tightened. "That's a lie," he interjected sharply. "Hyoudou Issei attacked her out of spite. Everyone remembers what happened in the cafeteria; and now you're taking it out on someone close to me. I let things go once. But this?" His jaw tightened. "This is a step too far. That means he is also the one who broke the cameras two days back. There is clearly a blindspot leading to the back of the swimming pool. This was planned."
A beat of silence passed. Shirogane turned his gaze to Issei. A non-verbal question hung in the air.
"I didn't break any cameras. As for the attack, there's been a group of third-years causing trouble lately. If we're pointing fingers without evidence, I'd say they're the more likely suspects."
Hiro scoffed, "So that's your angle? Some anonymous third-years suddenly became violent and attacked Kisaragi Reina, a few days after you came back from suspension?"
He turned to the principal now, more insistent. "Sir, I'm just trying to speak plainly here. Reina's not the kind of person who'd lie, especially not in the condition she was found. She said his name the moment she woke up. You know her character better than most."
Shirogane had been idly spinning a pen between his fingers. He stopped.
"…It's not a light matter," he murmured. For a moment, the room held its breath.
Then—
"Which is why this calls for a proper investigation," he concluded.
The click in Hiro's brain was almost audible. His confident façade slipped, if only for a second, his brow twitching in surprise. That wasn't the verdict he had come for.
Shirogane continued, unbothered. "From what I can tell, you two aren't exactly on cordial terms. Hiro Satoru, I'm not wrong, am I?"
Hiro hesitated. "...No, sir."
"So until we know more, I'll withhold judgment. That's only fair, don't you think?"
Neither of them answered.
"In the meantime," Shirogane added, lacing his fingers together, "I assume neither of you would mind being called in again when needed?"
"Not at all," Issei replied.
"I don't mind," Hiro echoed.
Shirogane gave them a mild smile, "You're both dismissed."
As the two boys turned to leave, Issei caught the irritation in Hiro's eyes.
Whatever Hiro had planned… the principal had slipped the board out from under him at the last moment.
********
The heavy door of the principal's office clicked shut behind them.
For a moment, the only sound in the hallway was the matched rhythm of their footsteps receding from the office.
"Not bad." Hiro's voice, laced with its familiar mockery, broke the quiet. "Even I wouldn't have expected you to go for her."
"What are you talking about?" Issei's tone was flat.
"Don't play dumb. I'm talking about you beating up Kisaragi Reina."
"That again?" Issei's expression remained impassive. "Are you sure it wasn't one of the girls she's tormented? Maybe they finally found the nerve for a little revenge."
Hiro stopped, turning to fully face him. The faint echo of their steps died.
"She named you the moment she woke up," he said, each word deliberate, heavy. "Her parents filed a complaint." His eyes narrowed. "But you freak—did you really have to use a knuckle duster on her?"
Issei's face remained impassive, his gaze steady, as if Hiro were discussing something utterly irrelevant.
"I was going to take my time to slowly deal with you," Hiro continued, his voice a low sneer. "But you just had to ruin everything by going after one of mine. Don't worry, though. My boys are all riled up thanks to that. We'll make sure to pay you back tenfold."
With that declaration hanging in the air, Hiro turned his back and began walking away.
There was a soft exhale behind him, and—
YANK—!
"GAAHH!!"
Hiro's world spun as he found himself yanked back by his own hair. Before his mind could catch up, his back slammed against the corridor wall with enough force to rattle his teeth.
Issei's other hand was already a vise on his collar, pinning him.
"YOU CRAZY-!"
*WHAM!*
The words died in Hiro's throat as Issei's free hand drove into his liver. The pain was immediate, absolute—a deep, sickening convulsion that stole his breath and turned his legs to jelly. He would have buckled if not for Issei's grip.
"Hiro Satoru." Issei's voice was low, dangerously close."If we weren't twenty meters from the principal's office, I'd have given you a crash course in street fighting right now."
A wild, panicked swing was all Hiro could manage. Issei deflected it with an almost contemptuous block of his forearm, his eyes never leaving Hiro's.
"'We'll pay you back tenfold,'" Issei repeated, his voice dripping with scorn. "And then you turn around like some cartoon villain making his exit. What is this, a scene out of some third rate manga? You budget-bin bully."
SLAM
Hiro's head bounced off the wall again. This time, Issei held him there, just long enough for the message to sink in.
Then, as suddenly as the assault began, it was over.
Issei's fingers uncoiled from Hiro's collar. He stepped back, a flicker of something akin to boredom—or perhaps profound disappointment—in his eyes, as if the entire exchange had been a tiresome obligation.
"You asked for this, Hiro Satoru." Issei said, "You're the one responsible for this situation."
Hiro sagged against the wall, one hand instinctively pressed to his throbbing side where that vicious punch had landed. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps. He'd never anticipated such raw, focused aggression from Issei—not here, not now, practically under the principal's nose. The sheer audacity was as stunning as the physical assault.
'This strength…' The thought crept into his mind unbidden. 'It's just like—'
No.
Hiro killed that comparison before it could fully form, refusing to acknowledge the terrifying parallel his instincts were screaming at him.
Hyoudou Issei showed him a disgustingly crooked grin and left the place, leaving Hiro Satoru rooted to the spot, a cold, familiar dread coiling deep in his gut.
*********
As Hyoudou Issei walked back to his classroom, his mind replayed the recent events.
Hiro Satoru's brand of bullying, while insidious here at Kuoh, felt almost quaint compared to what he had seen at Shitou and Sengai. Shitou, especially, was a place where lines were crossed with brutal regularity, often without any repercussions. Issei had not only survived those environments but had remained undefeated. To him, hardened by those unforgiving cities, Hiro Satoru felt less like an apex predator and more like a territorial bully who'd never faced genuine, calculated resistance.
The only reason he felt compelled to act was a sliver of responsibility for the current situation. That, and the unexpected ace up his sleeve: the school's mysterious informant, who, surprisingly, had agreed to help, even waiving their usual fee. Issei's first request had been a detailed breakdown of Hiro's gang: sub-leaders, internal dynamics, and, crucially, weaknesses.
The intel, delivered with astonishing speed and detail within hours, painted a clear picture. Hiro's core lieutenants were Ryugasaki Kenji, Toru Inukai, and Endou Masahiro—long-time cronies. Then there was Kisaragi Reina, the queen bee who kept the female populace in line, a relatively recent addition since Hiro's boxing championship victory. She was, according to the informant, fiercely loyal, her admiration for Hiro bordering on infatuation—a fact likely known, and exploited, by Hiro himself.
And in Reina, Issei saw his first target. If she, one of Hiro's most visible and active enforcers, was taken down, the ripple effect would be significant. The informant had even provided a map of the school's camera blind spots. Issei had spent an evening two days prior "creating" a few more by destroying key cameras, a move predictably attributed to Hiro's own thugs. Yesterday, he'd put his plan into motion.
*****************
Yesterday Evening, At Kuoh Academy
*****************
The evening sun cast long shadows as the last echoes of club activities faded. From a second-floor boys' restroom window on the quieter east side of the academy, a figure dropped with feline grace, landing silently on the grass below. Hyoudou Issei.
A quick scan confirmed the area was clear. He moved with stealth and purpose towards the swimming pool complex, the path taking him past the now-empty mounting where a camera he'd personally "retired" once stood.
Kisaragi Reina, driven by her dream of national recognition—a dream Hiro had already achieved, fueling her admiration—was known to practice late. Issei had counted on it. He peered through a side window. There she was, taking a break on a bench, toweling her hair, alone. Perfect.
Hiro's other top dogs had grown wary since Issei's cafeteria rampage, often moving in groups. It seemed, however, they hadn't anticipated him targeting a girl, especially not Reina. A fatal miscalculation.
Issei slipped inside, silently like a cat.
Reina sensed a shift in the air a fraction of a second too late. Before a scream could form, a hand clamped over her mouth, another arm like an iron band around her torso, slamming her back against the cold, tiled floor with a sickening thud.
*SLAM!*
"You see this?" Issei whispered, raising his right fist. A set of brass knuckles gleamed menacingly in the dim light.
Her eyes widened in stark terror.
Reina thrashed, a primal fear eclipsing her usual arrogance.
WHAM!
A brutal punch to the gut stole her breath and her fight.
"A single punch with this thing can rearrange your face," Issei continued, his voice devoid of any emotion, "Surely you wouldn't want that, would you?"
She tried to bite the hand over her mouth. Issei sighed, a sound of mild exasperation, and delivered another short, vicious jab to her stomach, then another, until her struggles weakened into whimpers.
He eased his hand from her mouth.
"Ready to listen now?"
"Y-you… bastard!" she gasped, clutching her stomach, pain and fury warring in her eyes.
"You can try screaming," Issei said conversationally. "But anyone who hears it will probably just assume it's another one of your little bullying sessions and ignore it."
Kisaragi started to laugh, a harsh, ragged sound. "You're so fucked, Hyoudou Issei! You think beating me up changes anything?! You and those perverted little friends of yours are going to see hell tomo— OW! OW! LET GO, YOU FREAK!"
Issei twisted his hand in her wet hair, dragging her towards the pool's edge. He agreed with her on one point: a simple beating was temporary. The fear had to be deeper, more elemental, a lesson branded into the psyche.
SPLASH!
He shoved her face into the cold, chlorinated water. Reina, caught completely off guard, choked, thrashing wildly against his unyielding grip.
A reminder that they're just as fragile, just as vulnerable, as anyone else.
He yanked her head up.
"You—YOU!" she sputtered, water streaming from her face, eyes bloodshot and glaring.
SPLASH!
Down again. The air in her lungs burned. Panic clawed at her.
He pulled her up. A gasp for air. Then—
SPLASH!
Lift.
SPLASH!
There was another reason as to why he chose this method. Submerging someone's head under water was a twisted mimicry of the torment Kisaragi herself inflicted on other students. But Issei's version was stripped of all her usual theatrics and taunts; a much crueler version. He held her under longer each time. If she'd been an average girl, she'd have been unconscious already.
The initial rage that had consumed her when first submerged began to erode, washed away by wave after wave of suffocating terror as he showed no signs of stopping.
After an eternity that was likely only minutes, her pleas finally broke through.
"Stop… cough… please… I… I get it…"
SPLASH!
One last time, he plunged her under, holding her until her struggles became feeble twitches.
Then he pulled her up, letting her slump, gasping and shivering, onto the wet tiles. He studied her—the broken pride, the raw terror now plain on her face. Satisfied, he turned and walked away, melting back into the shadows from which he'd come.
By the time Kisaragi Reina was found by a late-leaving student, shaking and incoherent, Issei was long gone. The call to the principal's office the next morning was, of course, entirely expected.
But Kisaragi Reina, Issei knew, wasn't the true weakness of Hiro's gang. She was just the first domino.
***********
LUNCH BREAK
***********
"FUCK!"
The sharp crack of Endou's fist against an innocent wall echoed through the empty classroom, which Hiro's gang often used as a makeshift headquarters. Dust motes danced in the slivers of light cutting through the grimy windows.
"Aren't you even angry, Hiro?!" Endou whirled around, his face flushed, eyes blazing. Several other gang members shifted uncomfortably, some of them mirrored his frustration. The air was thick with unspoken resentment.
"Endou, watch your tone," Ryugasaki Kenji warned, stepping slightly forward from his position near Hiro.
"But-!"
"Of course, I am angry," Hiro Satoru stated, his voice deceptively calm. He sat perched on the edge of the teacher's desk, legs crossed, with his usual confident posture taut with slight wariness. "He's just like his brother… no, perhaps an even worse case."
Endou's frustration visibly intensified at Hiro's words. "If that's true, then why are we just sitting on our asses?! Why aren't we doing anything?! We could ambush him on his way home, overwhelm him with numbers, and—"
Hiro cut him off with a slow shake of his head. "That's exactly what he might be expecting. The momentum is currently with him, and with the Principal acting strange, things are… complicated." He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes as he recalled what transpired outside Shirogane's office. "I believe he is baiting us. What if he uses our attack as a pretext? What if those cowards from Class 2-C suddenly find their courage and join him, like last year? There are too many variables right now."
Hiro's mind raced. This wasn't the first time he'd faced defiance. The feeling of utter helplessness during Issei's brief, brutal assault… it had shaken Hiro to his core. He prided himself on fighting with his brain as much as his fists; it was how he'd built his dominion over Kuoh Academy. But something about Issei unnerved him. And despite Hiro's usual strategic acumen, his current cautious approach felt like weakness to some of his more hot-headed followers.
"…You're just scared of him," Endou spat, his voice thick with contempt, words ground out through gritted teeth.
Hiro's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint surfacing. "What did you just say?"
Ignoring the warning in Hiro's tone, Endou stormed out of the classroom, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows rattle.
An uneasy silence descended upon the remaining gang members. The girls who had once eagerly followed Kisaragi Reina's lead now huddled together, their bravado deflated. Reina's brutal takedown and Hiro's subsequent, uncharacteristic restraint had sent a clear message: the rules had changed. Like Hiro said, the momentum was currently against them. While Endou's aggressive stance resonated with some, an unsettling premonition hung in the air, a feeling Hiro himself couldn't shake.
***********
"That motherfucker…!"
Endou took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke coiling into the cool air behind the gymnasium. He leaned against the brick wall, his mind seething, imagining Issei's smug, impassive face.
"Both of those Hyoudou bastards… completely insane…"
He exhaled a long plume of smoke, the nicotine doing little to soothe the fury churning within him. Hiro's caution, his fear, was infuriating. How could he let Issei walk all over them like this?
Ding.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out habitually, glancing at the screen.
His eyes scanned the message. Then they froze.
Drop.
The cigarette slipped from his numb fingers, landing smoldering on the ground. Veins throbbed at his temples, his face contorting into a mask of incandescent rage. His knuckles were white as he gripped the phone.
The message read:
Yo! Heard you were looking for the guy who had a little chat with your swimmer friend. We can discuss it this evening. Playground south of town, near the old warehouse district – xxx, xxxx. You know the spot, right? Where your crew likes to 'educate' the kids from 2-C.
And please, do not be shy. Bring your friends. The more the merrier.
Endou's jaw clenched so hard it ached. The sheer audacity, the blatant taunt…
He decided. He'd go alone if he had to. But, he would show Hyoudou Issei the full, brutal extent of his fury. He would make him pay for what he did to Reina.
The real weakness of Hiro's gang wasn't Kisaragi Reina but the hot-headed Endou Masahiro, who held feelings for her.
**********
EVENING
**********
As evening cast long, deepening shadows across Kuoh Town, Gasper Vladi vibrated with anxiety in his perpetually dim room. Hyoudou Issei would be en route to the designated playground, heading into what Gasper could only describe as a blatant trap—a trap Issei himself had insisted on setting. Calling out multiple opponents simultaneously? It was madness! Issei's fight in the cafeteria had been impressive, sure, but Gasper had chalked that up to a desperate adrenaline surge. This felt different, far riskier. And now, Gasper was stuck, a helpless observer.
"…Ughhhhhh!!! This is unbearable!"
With a frustrated groan, Gasper thrust out a palm. A small, shadowy bat materialized, taking flight with a silent flap of leathery wings, zipping out his perpetually cracked window and towards the south-town playground.
The bat's crimson eyes glowed, its vision syncing directly with Gasper's. The world blurred past—buildings, bridges, roads—until the playground came into view.
And his worst fears were confirmed.
…!!!
Endou Masahiro wasn't alone. He'd brought a crew, nearly ten of them, and they weren't empty-handed. The glint of metal was unmistakable—baseball bats, iron pipes, and the dull gleam of knuckle dusters on several hands, including Endou's. Opposite them, Hyoudou Issei stood, calmly adjusting the fit of the brass knuckles on his right fist. He looked unnervingly composed, but Gasper knew that could easily be a facade. Ten armed opponents… this was bad.
Gasper's bat-avatar frantically scanned the periphery, desperate for any sign of potential aid, any unforeseen variable. And then, a flicker of movement in the dying light caught its unblinking gaze: a small group of students… Kuoh Academy uniforms…
'They are…!' Gasper recognized one of them.
************
The Playground – Confrontation
************
Endou scratched the back of his head with the hand already sheathed in brass knuckles, his agitation a palpable force.
"So… …Fuck. I'm not even in the mood to talk, Hyoudou." He flexed his fingers, the metal scraping faintly. "This is going to hurt. A lot."
The thugs fanning out behind him were clearly his own enforcers—the ones usually tasked with "managing" the first-years. They hadn't been part of the cafeteria brawl, their expressions a mixture of brutal eagerness and aggression, fueled by Endou's own simmering rage.
Issei, seemingly unfazed, bent his right knee, raising it high in a slow, deliberate stretch.
"Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly give Kisaragi my full attention yesterday. She passed out before that."
GRIT.
Endou's jaw tightened audibly, his eyes burning with a cold fire. "You piece of shit…"
The first two rushed him simultaneously, bats held high, aiming to overwhelm. Issei didn't retreat. Instead, he exploded forward, his eyes glowing blue.
RUSH!
He darted towards the opponent on the right.
The core principle of Issei's fighting style in a one-vs-many scenario was meticulous positioning and distance management. He, at most times…
He ducked sharply under the whistling arc of a bat, his shoulder ramming into the attacker's side with calculated force. The senior stumbled, his balance broken. Issei's hand shot out, yanking the bat away from his grasp in a swift motion, then Issei's leg snapped back in a powerful kick, creating immediate distance.
…maintained a tight circle around himself, a kill-zone where he dictated the terms of engagement, never letting anyone crowd him for too long. A strategy that is made possible due to his talent of awareness.
Now armed with the iron bat, Issei fluidly reversed its momentum, swinging it towards the thug who'd been on his left. The senior instinctively raised his own bat to block. Just an instant before the anticipated clang of metal on metal…
GLOW
Issei's eyes glowed blue. He abruptly released his grip on the bat he was swinging. In the same motion, Issei lunged forward, under the suprised senior's guard. A hard metallic strike with his knuckle duster against the man's jaw, snapping his head back.
WHAM!
Before the thug could even register the first hit, Issei followed through with a vicious elbow strike to the face. A sickening crunch echoed, and the senior dropped like a stone.
One down…
Issei immediately rolled forward, a low, evasive maneuver as another bat whistled through the air where he'd just been.
"Fuck! Does he have eyes on the back of his head?!" one of the attackers snarled in frustration.
Apparently learning their lesson—or perhaps driven by pack mentality—five of them surged forward at once. Issei didn't engage directly. He pivoted and sprinted, using the playground's open space to create a momentary gap. There were still too many to fight head-on effectively. His eyes scanned, assessing. He changed direction, charging towards two who had hesitated, momentarily isolated from the main pack, their uncertainty clear.
They both wore brass knuckles. Issei, maintaining his chillingly blank expression, lifted his own knuckled fist slightly as he closed the distance with unnerving speed. The two thugs tensed, bracing themselves for impact.
Instead, Issei launched himself into the air, his body spinning a full 360 degrees.
WHACK!
A flying back-kick connected with the nearest thug with explosive force, sending him sprawling.
WHOOSH!
He landed lightly, already twisting to evade a retaliatory blow from the second knuckle-duster.
GLOW!
Issei's eyes flared blue again. The five who had been chasing him were closing in fast. He tensed, feinting a forward dash.
FREEZE!
Then, in a sudden reversal, he leaped, spun in mid-air, and drove a powerful back-kick into the lead pursuer, who'd fallen for the feint and was now overextended. The thug crashed backward like a bowling pin, tumbling into those directly behind him, creating a brief moment of chaos.
Issei flowed into the opening. He stepped forward with a sleek, gliding motion towards the next closest opponent, jabbed hard to disrupt his guard, pulled the man's defending arm down, and delivered a devastating flying elbow that knocked the lights out of him. With another fluid movement, he repositioned, re-establishing that critical distance from the remaining pack.
Three down. The fight had been raging for less than a minute.
********
A short distance away, hidden by the deepening gloom and a row of unkempt hedges, four boys in Kuoh Academy's uniforms watched, mouths agape.
"Cr-crazy…" one of them finally managed to whisper, his voice trembling.
There was no other word for it.
"He's fighting… one, two… Jesus! Ten of them? And they're armed! He's even crazier than his brother!" one of them exclaimed, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe.
"Should we… should we do something?" a third asked, his voice barely audible.
"Are you crazy?!" the first hissed back, "Can't you see? He… He can do it himself…"
"But the message said…"
"Forget it! We didn't see anything, okay?!"
These four were indeed students from Class 2-C, drawn here by an anonymous LINE message that had pinged on all their phones simultaneously as they were heading to a gaming cafe, eager for their first bully-free evening in what felt like an eternity:
Come to this location: xxx, xxx, Playground south of town. You might get a chance to see your tormentors get what they deserve. This is your chance to get your revenge.
Curious, and already nearby, they approached the location from a distance. Now, they were witnessing a battle far beyond anything they'd ever imagined, a whirlwind of violence that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. Baseball bats, iron pipes, knuckle dusters… this wasn't a schoolyard scuffling they could insert themselves into.
It was natural to be scared. Yet, there was something undeniably captivating about the way Issei fought. The fight was incredibly fast-paced, yet his calm, almost blank expression made everything seem to move in slow motion around him. The way he used shoulder rolls to evade, the dance-like flow between brutal strikes, the seamless blend of street-smart brawling and something more refined—it was like watching a scene torn from their wildest revenge fantasies, as he destroyed the very thugs who had made their lives hell. Endou, in particular, despite usually targeting first-years, had become a new, prominent face in their recent nightmares.
One of the boys, finally snapping out of his stupor, tugged at his friends. "C'mon! We… we can't stay here!" He started backing away, trying to pull the others with him.
"Aizawa! What are you doing?! Come on, man!" he called out, noticing his friend still frozen, gaze locked on Issei.
Kagami Aizawa couldn't move, rooted to the spot by a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. Hyoudou Issei's fighting style bore little direct resemblance to his older brother's disciplined forms, yet the underlying confidence, the self-assured way he commanded the space around him, the sheer, unyielding will—it all struck a painfully familiar chord. Aizawa had always worshipped his brother, Sora, admiring his charisma, his strength, his unwavering belief in justice. He'd spent his life chasing that idealized shadow, trying to emulate him, yet always feeling like he fell short, especially when it came to true courage in the face of overwhelming odds. Even on the day Sora was betrayed, abandoned by those he'd protected, and ultimately expelled, Aizawa had been helpless, a silent, anguished bystander to his hero's fall. The guilt from that day was a constant, gnawing companion. Perhaps that's why…
?!!!
His eyes widened. One of the remaining thugs, recovering from a near miss, was circling around, bat raised, aiming for Issei's blind spot while Issei was engaged with another.
Without a second thought, pure instinct overriding fear, Aizawa moved.
RUSH!
Issei, however, sidestepped the telegraphed blindside attack without even looking, but Aizawa, committed to his charge, couldn't stop his momentum.
COLLIDE!
He slammed into the senior with a desperate tackle, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
"What the—?!"
"Who the hell is that?!"
The sudden intervention shocked everyone, including Issei, who paused mid-strike, eyes flicking to the unexpected newcomer.
Aizawa's friends froze, stunned by his sudden, reckless bravery.
Aizawa scrambled, trying to land a punch on the downed senior, but another thug was already on him, a vicious kick sending Aizawa rolling. He narrowly dodged a downward swing of an iron pipe that whistled past his ear.
'Wait, isn't that kid from my class?' Issei thought, deflecting a wild punch aimed at his head. 'What the hell is he doing?!'
Issei parried another swing and deliberately maneuvered closer to Endou, who still gripped his knuckle dusters, baiting him.
Swing—
Endou lashed out. Issei caught the incoming fist by the wrist, twisted sharply, and used Endou's momentum to execute a swift hip throw, sending him crashing to the ground. For a split second, Issei glanced at Aizawa. He was back on his feet, somehow having snatched up a dropped iron bat from one of the downed bullies, looking terrified but resolute.
"He's another Class 2-C fucker! GET HIM!" a senior snarled, advancing on Aizawa.
Aizawa was clearly out of his depth, quickly finding himself surrounded by three opponents who, while wary of his bat, pressed him hard with coordinated menace. Issei, seeing that, shifted gears. His movements, already fast, became even more aggressive, his evasive style giving way to a direct, overwhelming assault. He systematically intercepted thugs trying to overwhelm Aizawa, drawing the majority of the heat, the blue light in his eyes intensifying.
Of the original ten, three were definitively out cold from Issei's initial onslaught. Issei was now single-handedly engaging four more with ferocious precision, while Aizawa desperately fended off the remaining three.
'No… NO, NO! This is impossible…' Endou's mind screamed as he struggled to rise, watching Issei fight. 'Is this why Hiro was so cautious?… This freak… He reminds me of that guy…'
Endou attempted another desperate tackle on Issei. Issei met the charge with a perfectly timed knee to Endou's already battered face, the impact echoing with a sickening thud. He then hopped sideways and backward, effortlessly re-establishing distance.
"Stop jumping around like a goddamn coward and fight me!" one of the remaining thugs roared, swinging his bat wildly at Issei.
CLANG!
Issei met the bat head-on with his knuckle dusters. The impact was jarring, a heavy, resonant sound that made his own arm tingle
"… Sure," Issei muttered, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
GRAB! PULL!
He seized the bat mid-rebound, his grip like iron, yanked the surprised thug forward and off-balance, and then drove a vicious sidekick into his solar plexus. The man folded like a cheap suit, collapsing in a wheezing heap, air driven from his lungs.
*****
On the other side of the small clearing, Aizawa was struggling. He swung his iron bat defensively, but his three opponents, sensing his inexperience, circled him, prodding, testing.
"Goddammit!" Aizawa grunted, deflecting a blow that nearly took his head off. He glanced desperately towards Issei and saw him deliver that brutal sidekick.
One of his assailants, seeing Aizawa distracted, lunged, aiming a heavy swing at his head for a quick knockout. Aizawa reacted on instinct, blocking clumsily with the bat. The impact jarred his arms. Another senior swung at his exposed side. Aizawa stumbled back, creating a sliver of space as the two pressed their advantage, sensing victory.
Swing!
Another bat arced towards him. And then, just for a heartbeat, the world seemed to slow. The trajectory of the incoming bat, the angle of attack—it all became preternaturally clear.
Block!
He met the bat with his own, the clang echoing. The thug, committed to his forward momentum, pressed on.
'I don't need to grab and pull because of bat… just go to next phase…'
A voice, an echo of Issei's fluid movements, whispered in his mind.
SHIFT! WHAM!
Aizawa pivoted on his back foot, shifting his weight, and drove a surprisingly powerful sidekick into the charging senior's exposed abdomen.
"KEUFGK!!"
The thug let out a strangled cry, staggering back, stunned by the unexpected counter. Aizawa hopped back again, creating more distance from the second of his immediate attackers, his eyes, however, now locked with a newfound intensity on the disoriented senior he'd just kicked.
Aizawa felt a rush of impatience, a primal urge to press his advantage. He wanted to charge, to finish it. But the third one, lurking just behind… His eyes suddenly widened as he registered movement in his peripheral vision.
A surge of adrenaline, of desperate, almost reckless confidence, coursed through him. He saw an opening, a chance.
He lunged at the second senior, their bats clashing in a shower of sparks. Using his body with surprising force, Aizawa shoved him off-balance, momentarily clearing a path to the one he'd kicked.
He sprinted forward.
The injured thug, still clutching his gut, weakly raised his bat. Aizawa feinted high, drawing the defensive movement, then brought his bat down in a swift, decisive arc to the man's exposed temple.
THUD!
The senior crumpled without a sound, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Dammit, Kazuo! What are you doing?!" the senior whom Aizawa had just shoved exclaimed, turning his head quickly to look for his other ally, the one who was supposed to be flanking Aizawa. "Matsuoka! Where the fu—?!"
"Mpffhhh, Mpfffhh!!"
The two boys from Aizawa's group, guilt and a surge of desperate courage finally overcoming their fear, had launched themselves at the thug, clinging to his arms and legs like tenacious monkeys, trying to wrestle his bat away.
"More of them?!" the senior roared in frustration, distracted by the sudden, undignified assault, failing to notice the figure of Aizawa's other friend – the one who'd initially tried to get them to leave – who had circled around during the commotion, creeping up silently behind him, a look of grim determination on his face.
GRAB!
The newcomer seized the thug's bat arm from behind. "AIZAWA, NOW!" he yelled, his voice cracking with effort and adrenaline.
"Fuck!!" the senior bellowed, trying to kick his assailant off, but the boy held on with grim determination.
Aizawa, breathing hard, saw his chance. He rushed in. The beleaguered senior, despite his predicament, skillfully dodged Aizawa's first two wild swings but was caught off guard by a sudden, vicious low kick from Aizawa.
WHAM!
Aizawa, moving with a newfound, desperate confidence, swung the bat with all his might at the senior's head. The thug, reacting with surprising speed, blocked the blow with his bare forearm. His face contorted in agony.
"Arrrgghh!"
But he was exposed.
SWING!
Another clean hit, and he was finally down.
Aizawa collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, the iron bat clattering from his numb fingers. He looked to his side. Unbelievably, his two friends had managed to subdue their opponent through sheer, frenzied effort, though it looked more like a chaotic dogpile than a coordinated takedown.
He turned to his other friend who'd made the crucial grab. "You came… huff…"
"Shut it…" his friend panted, equally breathless. "Goddammit… is that guy," he jerked his head towards Issei, "even human?"
Across the now littered playground, only Endou Masahiro remained standing against Hyoudou Issei. He had soloed the rest.
******
'Shit! Shit! SHIT!'
Endou scrambled back, warily keeping his distance as Hyoudou Issei advanced with an almost leisurely pace that was far more terrifying.
He wiped at the blood trickling from his nose, a painful reminder of Issei's knee kick earlier. Exhaustion was a heavy cloak on his shoulders. He'd thrown everything he had at Issei, rallied his crew, and yet, before he knew it, Issei had systematically taken them out one by one. And then those random Class 2-C kids had to butt in, muddying the waters, complicating everything.
When Issei was finally close enough, every muscle in Endou's body tensed. His best option now, his only option, was a desperate, quick counter followed by an immediate retreat.
'But what about Reina?! I can't just…'
Endou gritted his teeth, a fresh wave of impotent fury washing over him.
Issei raised his right fist, the brass knuckles glinting dully in the fading light.
'Here it comes!' Endou braced himself, ready to lunge back, to evade at any cost.
…
..
.
Glow.
Issei's eyes, still holding that cool blue light, seemed to sharpen. Then, with blinding speed, his leg lashed out, a scything high kick aimed directly at Endou's head.
WHAM!
Endou didn't even see it coming. The impact sent him staggering back, his vision swimming, stars exploding behind his eyes. He stumbled, his legs giving out, and crashed heavily onto his back.
As his consciousness faded into a throbbing darkness, a final, horrifying realization pierced through the pain: he finally understood. He understood why Hiro, despite all his skill and power, had been knocked out in a single hit.
'That speed… that inhuman power… There's no doubt about it… He's the same breed as him… Hiro's teacher… That goddamn monster, Loup Garou!'
With that final thought, Endou Masahiro passed out.
********
********
…Then he told us they'd attacked him first, thinking he was the one who hurt Kisaragi Reina, and that this whole fight was just a misunderstanding. He warned us not to tell anyone what really happened here tonight and shooed us out of the area. To be honest, none of us had the energy, or the will, to say anything back.
Aizawa closed his diary, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. The aches and bruises from the fight tonight didn't feel painful. Instead, a strange mixture of pride, adrenaline, and a nervous excitement still thrummed through him. He wondered if his friends had made it home safely. He picked up his phone to call them, only to be met with a blinding flood of messages in the Class 2-C group chat.
Despite Issei's warning—or perhaps because of the sheer exhilaration of it all—Aizawa's friends hadn't been able to keep their mouths shut. They were already bragging, recounting the impossible fight to everyone in the class. One of them had even managed to discreetly snap a photo as they were leaving. Thankfully, it didn't show Issei's face clearly, but the images of the downed seniors whom Class 2-C knew all too well.
The chat was exploding. It felt like the entire class had dropped whatever they were doing to participate.
''No way, for real?! You guys actually fought them?!'
'You won't believe me, but that Issei guy is even crazier than his brother Izo. Even seeing it firsthand, I still can't believe that shit happened.'
'Yeah, and he wasn't fighting dirty like in the cafeteria. The seniors had actual weapons—knuckles, bats, the works…'
'You guys just jumped into a fight like that?! No way…'
'Well, if it wasn't for someone dragging us in… LOOK! He's online!'
'AIZAWA!'
'Finally decided to show your face?'
'Aizawa, is what they're saying true? Did you really…?'
'Yo, Aizawa! Spill the details!'
The messages kept pouring in, a torrent of disbelief, awe, and an undercurrent of newfound respect.
'So you guys took out three and Hyoudou took out seven? All armed?!'
'This is actually happening… Is the nightmare finally over?'
'Wait, what happened? I just logged in. Someone fill me in!'
'We got Endou's downfall before GTA VI…'
More and more students joined the rapidly scrolling conversation. Then, finally, a crucial question emerged from the excited chatter:
'What happened after the fight? Did you call the police or anything? No way you just left them there, right?'
'Nah, Hyoudou shooed us away. Said he had some things left to do.'
'Wait, shouldn't you all have gotten out of there with him ASAP? What else was there to do? Call an ambulance?'
'Well, like I said, he just told us… there were some things left to do…'
**************
Sometime later
**************
It was truly late now, nearly an hour after the fierce battle on the playground had concluded. The adrenaline had faded, leaving only the cold night air and the groans of the defeated.
"…Ugh…"
One of Endou's crew, the first one Issei had taken out with his elbow, slowly pushed himself up, his head throbbing. As his senses sluggishly returned, he looked around frantically. It was a scene of utter devastation. All of them, every single member who had come with Endou, lay scattered across the dirt, knocked out cold.
"Cr-crazy bastard…" he muttered, a tremor in his voice. Did he really take out all ten of us by himself…?
He stumbled over to Endou, who lay unmoving, and gently tapped his bruised face. A large, purpling welt was already forming on the side of Endou's head.
Endou groaned, his eyes fluttering open. The first thug then moved to rouse the others.
Soon, all ten were sitting up and groaning, nursing their wounds, a symphony of pain and disbelief.
"Fuck, my teeth… Are they loose? Does it look bad?"
"Ugh, I think something in my arm broke…"
"My leg hurts like a bitch—"
"FUCK!" Endou slammed his fist into the unforgiving ground. The sudden, sharp sound cut through the litany of complaints, and the area fell into a tense silence.
"Ryugasaki and the others are going to roast us alive for this tomorrow… Ugh, I can't even bear to think about Toru's smug face when he hears about this." Endou's voice was raw with pain and humiliation.
He struggled to sit up straighter. "…This- This won't do. We need to inform Hiro. We gather everyone we can, every single body, and jump him. Tomorrow, at the latest. No matter how strong he is, he's bound to run out of stamina… Hell, it'd be better if we all just go to his house tonight and—"
Clatter.
A soft, metallic sound from the edge of the playground.
All ten heads whipped towards the encroaching shadows.
Hyoudou Issei stepped out from the darkness, casually flexing his hands. A set of brass knuckles gleamed menacingly on each fist.
"Endou, was it?" Issei's voice was calm, almost conversational, a stark contrast to the cold glint in his eyes. "Seems like we have a similar hand size. This pair fits me really well, you know? Where'd you get them?"
He indicated the knuckles on his left hand—Endou's own.
"You-you…" Endou stammered, a new, more profound terror eclipsing his anger. He and the others instinctively scrambled backward, desperately looking around for their discarded weapons.
"Hm?" Issei tilted his head, a faint, almost curious smile playing on his lips. "Ah, don't worry about those. I've put your tools somewhere safe. You won't be needing them for this next part."
"St-stay where you are, you bastard!" Endou shouted, his voice cracking. "You-you really don't know who you're messing with! Hiro will—!"
"It's education time, bully wannabes," Issei interrupted, his voice dropping, losing all trace of its earlier lightness, becoming flat and cold. "I'm going to give you all a clear demonstration of what actual bullying feels like."
At some point, even Hyoudou Issei had to wonder, a distant, detached part of his mind observing his own actions: 'At this point, what's the real difference between me and them? Isn't this going too far?'
They were valid questions.
But this, he'd discovered through harsh experience, was the most effective way to deal with bullies. It only worked for him, perhaps, because he was who he was—born with almost cheat-like talents.
Issei raised his fists, the twin sets of brass knuckles catching the faint moonlight.
The most effective way to deal with bullies, he believed, was to utterly crush their spirits. To do that, he spoke their own currency: violence—a language he was terrifyingly talented in, one they so readily inflicted on others.
WHAM!
A sickening crack as knuckles met jaw.
"No, no, no, wa-wait—!"
WHAM! CRUNCH!
He'd vowed never to use this talent again unless absolutely necessary. This is necessary, Issei told himself, a grim mantra. To end this. To fix it.
WHAM!
But why exactly did he make this vow again?
Issei tried to remember.
WHAM! THUD!
Because it was too dangerous—not just for others, but for himself…
*WHAM!*
*WHACK!*
*WHAM!*
It wasn't just that he'd decided to quit using his talents because they were too overwhelmingly strong to be fairly used against ordinary people. No, it was also because…
The bully Issei currently had by the collar, his face a mask of bloody terror, looked up at Issei's face and flinched violently.
Hyoudou Issei was grinning. A horrifyingly wide, chillingly crooked smile as he watched them writhe in pain. His eyes, in the growing darkness of the night, seemed to burn with a cold, intense blue light.
His nature.
Albeit not nearly as much as he enjoyed a genuine, challenging fight against a worthy opponent, Hyoudou Issei was acutely, disturbingly aware of how much a part of him truly enjoyed the act of utterly crushing others with his superior, violent talent.
And tonight, that part of him was being thoroughly indulged.
*********************
END OF CHAPTER 7
*********************