Chapter 13: A Mugging... Reversed!?
After leaving Kuoh Academy, Akira originally intended to head straight home—he had nothing else on his schedule today.
But instead of going home right away, he decided to take a little stroll. After all, this was the world of an anime. Wouldn't it be a waste not to enjoy the unique atmosphere of an isekai setting?
Besides, he was genuinely curious about Japanese street culture.
Even though he'd scored some cash yesterday, Akira still didn't have a stable source of income. So, he figured he should start exploring ways to earn money more consistently.
About thirty to forty minutes later, as he was passing through a narrow alleyway, a man suddenly stepped into his path.
The guy had blonde-dyed hair, a lip piercing, and a cocky expression that screamed "wannabe punk." The way he looked at Akira was like spotting a helpless little rabbit.
Akira, however, was oddly pleased.
After wandering around so long, something interesting had finally come his way.
"Hey, sweetie~ You know whose turf you just stepped into?"
Sweetie?
The moment those words left the thug's mouth, Akira's expression darkened instantly.
Sure, thanks to the Enkidu Template, his appearance had become slightly androgynous—at a distance, he could be mistaken for a girl.
But he was very much a guy.
And now some street punk was flirting with him under the assumption he was a girl?
His irritation exploded.
"Every street around here, ten—no, twenty blocks? All of them are mine! But y'know, you're pretty cute. If you hang out with me, I'll protect you forever~"
Seeing the Kuoh Academy uniform, the blonde thug didn't become cautious—instead, he got even more excited. If he could "hook up" with a student from a prestigious school like that, imagine the kind of girls he could lure next…
"All of this is your territory, huh?" Akira lowered his head, letting his emerald-green bangs fall and hide his eyes.
The punk didn't notice anything strange—too caught up in his daydreams.
"Whaaat? You don't believe me? Around here, I'm the boss. Whatever I say, goes!"
"Oh? So you're the one in charge around here?"
As Akira slowly raised his head, the air around him seemed to drop several degrees.
His eyes glinted with cold steel—like a winter storm packed into a single glare.
The thug hesitated, startled by the sudden change in atmosphere. "W-Whoa, you…" he stammered, but then chuckled and reached out a hand, aiming to brush Akira's cheek.
Unfortunately for him, he never made it that far.
With a sharp, sudden motion, a loud crack rang out as Akira's iron grip shattered the thug's forearm. The bone gave way with the ease of a twig snapping underfoot.
"AARGHH! What the hell—what did you do to my arm!?"
The thug screamed in agony.
It was worth remembering: Akira's strength now rivaled that of a low-tier devil. Even without calling on the Chains of Heaven, his physical might and durability were already leagues above an ordinary human.
To someone like him, breaking the bones of a petty street punk was about as difficult as cracking a toothpick.
Even a low-class devil could tank a kitchen knife slash without flinching. So what was this guy? Just a bug.
Without wasting a moment, Akira drove his fist into the thug's gut. The sheer force of the impact launched the man off his feet, sending him hurtling backward into the alley wall.
He collided with the hard surface and crumpled to the ground in a heap, one arm twisted at an unnatural angle, the other wrapped tightly around his stomach as he groaned in pain.
With his rage from being mistaken for a girl slowly fading, Akira let out a sigh of relief.
"You… you monster! Stay away from me!"
Tears and snot streamed down the punk's face. The pain made him realize—this "girl" was actually a monster in human skin.
"First of all," Akira said flatly, "I'm a guy. Not a girl. Next time you try flirting, make sure you know what you're dealing with."
"I—I get it, Aniki! I swear I'll never mess with anyone again!"
The moment he found out Akira was male, the thug nearly fainted.
What kind of nightmare was this?
"Second of all… I'm the one doing the mugging now. You said this whole neighborhood's your turf, yeah? Well then, as compensation, hand over one million yen."
"O-One million!?! Aniki, I was just bluffing! I'm just a small-time punk—I don't have money like that!"
"Oh? So you were just messing with me?"
"I'm sorry, Aniki! I really am! Please forgive me!"
"Whether you're a real thug or just a joke doesn't matter. One million yen, or you don't walk away. Your choice."
Akira's voice was calm, almost gentle, but his eyes radiated a merciless intensity.
The thug began to tremble. His body broke into a cold sweat.
"Aniki, I-I swear! I only have eleven thousand yen! That's all I've got!"
With a trembling hand, he pulled the crumpled bills from his pocket, his face pale and panic-stricken.
It was money he'd scammed off people over the past few days—intended for partying with his buddies. Who could've predicted he'd run into this guy?
"One million down to eleven thousand? That's a ninety percent discount."
"Aniki, I swear that's everything! If I had real cash, I wouldn't be mugging people in alleys—I'd be in another city having the time of my life!"
"Then write me an IOU. I'll take the eleven thousand, but you still owe me eight hundred eighty-nine thousand yen."
"Wha—!? I still owe you that much!?"
At that moment, the thug's heart nearly gave out. Why hadn't he just gone home? Why did he have to look for trouble today!?
"Is there a problem?"
"N-No…!"
In his condition, he wouldn't dare argue. One arm was already broken—any more attitude and he might lose the other one too.
"Uh, Aniki… I don't have paper or a pen. I can't write an IOU…"
"No worries. I came prepared."
Akira flashed a relaxed smile and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen from his bag.
As a new student, of course he had his stationery ready from the night before.
The thug stared at the paper like it was his death sentence.
He'd come here planning to mug someone.
But now?
He was being mugged himself.
Well, he wasn't a predator anymore—he was prey. And prey doesn't get to negotiate.
As expected of a third-rate delinquent, his mental fortitude was weak. The moment he met someone stronger, he folded instantly.
Under the crushing weight of Akira's overwhelming presence, the punk began scribbling out an IOU for ¥889,000, tears streaming down his face the whole time.
"Also, write down your home address. Otherwise, it'll be hard to collect the debt later."
"Y-Yes, sir…"
"Oh—and if that address turns out to be fake, or belongs to someone else… and I find you again… you're finished. Don't forget—Kuoh City isn't that big."
Those final words crushed whatever sliver of hope the thug had left.
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