Of course Kazuma could tell the fighting strength of these yakuza thugs.
The leader—the only one among them wearing an emblem—had a Judo 1 rating for combat ability.
Technically, judo had various styles, but for some reason his system just showed "Judo 1." Maybe his cheat only displayed specific styles for kendo? Other martial arts just came through as an overall number?
Anyway, only the leader had any real skill. The rest were just small fry.
Originally, Kazuma's plan had been to take out two of them quickly while they were distracted, then fight three-on-two with Mikako.
A sound plan. Mikako didn't have a formal style, but her basic kendo ability was a solid 4—fighting these punks would be a breeze for her.
And if Mikako managed to drop one right away, the fight would be even easier.
Kazuma glanced at the unlucky one who'd taken Mikako's bamboo sword to the face.
The welt left behind looked like a car bumper had slammed into him—deep red now. Blood was pouring from his crooked nose with no sign of stopping.
Mikako had almost taken him out with that strike.
Back at school during club practice, when she landed a blow on Kazuma's helmet, his whole head would ring.
That girl packed a punch.
She was probably off her game today—either tired and low on energy, or subconsciously holding back since these guys weren't wearing headgear.
Oh, and her hand injury must've been affecting her power too.
In any case, Kazuma's plan was busted. Now it was one versus three.
As the saying goes: two fists can't beat four hands. Even a fierce tiger can be overwhelmed by a pack of wolves. Even Jackie Chan had to rely on props when fighting groups.
In realistic Japanese chanbara films, when master swordsmen charged into groups, they'd take advantage of the fact that everyone was lightly armored and quickly dispatch a few to intimidate the rest—otherwise the scene wouldn't make sense.
But Kazuma was holding a bamboo sword. Even if he used Gatotsu, at best he could knock someone out temporarily—not permanently disable them like with a real blade.
And he was still carrying Mikako.
Judging by the thugs' movements, they weren't planning to give him a chance to set her down.
They were closing in now, swinging their baseball bats to "warm up."
The leader sneered. "Your girlfriend's not bad. Shame to send her to Kabukichō. Tell you what—we're fair guys. Get on your knees and kowtow, and we'll go easy—just have a little fun with her and give her back."
Kazuma really wanted to jam a Gatotsu straight through this bastard's teeth.
But he was holding Mikako.
He began backing toward the wall, trying to prop Mikako against it so even if she slipped, she wouldn't hit the floor too hard.
But the thugs were already attacking.
The one with the "bumper mark" on his face let out a shriek and charged.
Kazuma moved fast, giving him a quick thrust to the throat.
It was so effortless, even Kazuma was surprised.
The thug staggered, lost his balance, and collapsed to the ground, clutching his neck and moaning.
That's when Kazuma noticed something new—a status effect had appeared on the enemy.
Intimidated?
Did taking one down trigger a fear effect?
No time to dwell on it. Seizing the opportunity, Kazuma crouched and gently laid Mikako on the ground.
Then he sprang upright, bamboo sword at the ready.
At the same time, the thug he'd blinded earlier with a thrust to the eye socket was staggering upright again, one eye blackened, gripping his bat shakily.
Still three versus one. No change there.
Except for that Intimidated status.
No idea how long it would last.
The leader spat on the ground and shouted, "What are you afraid of?! All together, now!"
He roared and charged.
His two underlings followed, though noticeably slower than their boss.
Kazuma launched a Gatotsu, darting between the two underlings, and slammed his bamboo sword into the leader's teeth.
The man reeled backward, his knocked-out teeth sparkling in the afternoon sunlight as they flew from his mouth.
Kazuma spun, executing another skill—Jōdan Twin Strike.
Both strikes landed cleanly on the leader's crown.
As the thugs collapsed around him, Kazuma, a sly old gamer from the 21st century, couldn't help but think:
Huh? That's it?
Looked like Shintō-ryū 6 really did give him a huge advantage against lesser opponents.
And this cheat didn't just display combat ability—it showed status effects too. Very nice.
Wonder if it works for romance... like showing "Shy" or something?
Kazuma was still savoring his sudden victory—really, just moments ago he'd thought he was done for.
While he was basking, the leader—the only one wearing an emblem—grunted from the ground.
"Do you even know who we are?"
"Nope," Kazuma answered honestly. "But let me see… your emblem has a mokko pattern. Might be a low-tier gang from Hyōgo Prefecture?"
Kazuma loved playing Nobunaga's Ambition and Taikō Risshiden, so he knew a bit about samurai family crests. The mokko pattern was primarily used by the Kusakabe clan of ancient Tajima Province—the most famous family being the Asakura.
Ancient Tajima was modern-day Hyōgo.
The leader snarled, "You little punk! We're the Tsuda-gumi—"
Kazuma knocked him out with a swift strike from the bamboo sword.
Ah, so they're called Tsuda-gumi. Got it.
And judging by the emblem, they weren't the same group that had paid Kazuma a "visit" last night or hung the dead chicken on his door this morning.
But they could be a lower-tier branch of a larger syndicate.
Yakuza organizations were structured like Sengoku warlords: daimyo at the top, with senior retainers below them, each commanding their own men, and so on down the chain.
Kazuma decided not to overthink it.
Once he sold the dojo, none of this would matter to him. Convincing Chiyoko was the real priority.
He kicked one of the thugs who was pretending to be unconscious. "Hey! Get up and carry your boss out of here!"
The thugs scrambled up—turns out all four had been awake after all.
Kazuma stepped back, staying on guard as they limped away with their unconscious leader.
Wow, didn't even throw a parting threat. These small fry villains are slacking.
Kazuma snarked inwardly.
He turned to check on Mikako and found her sitting up, clutching her head.
"My head's spinning…" she mumbled dazedly.
"Might be a mild concussion," Kazuma said with a crooked smile. Then he teased, "And with your brain a little scrambled, you might just fall for me."
"Gross. Drop dead!" Mikako struggled to her feet, then looked around in confusion. "Where'd those thugs go?"
The dagashi shop owner said, "Your boyfriend chased them off."
Mikako stared suspiciously at Kazuma. "Really?"
"Really. But… didn't you notice something odd in what she just said?"
It finally dawned on Mikako that she'd just implicitly confirmed Kazuma as her "boyfriend" by asking him that.
Her face flushed bright red.
"Wait, ma'am! We're not—"
But the old lady was already tidying up the wrecked shop. As she swept up broken glass, she said, "Help yourselves to whatever snacks you want—just be careful not to get cut."
Kazuma exchanged a glance with Mikako. Then Mikako said, "We'd better not… you've lost so much already…"
The old lady chuckled. Though smiling, her expression held a trace of sadness.
"Go ahead. Take whatever you like from the good jars too. You know… I think I've finally made up my mind," she said softly. "Business has really been declining. Kids all want McDonald's now. Ice pops can't compete with ice cream anymore… And honestly, I'm just tired. Really tired."
She handed a bunch of snacks to Mikako.
"There's a wagashi shop near the station. They get their sweets from the same supplier I do. Why don't you two go there for your dates from now on?"
Mikako froze, then flustered, tried to protest. "We're not—!"
"Not dating? But you two come here every day for ice pops and snacks, don't you?" the old lady said in surprise.
"We just—"
"Here, take some daifuku too." The old lady cut her off, handing over neatly wrapped daifuku.
Finished, she turned and went back inside, leaving Kazuma and Mikako standing there, speechless.
"Want some daifuku?" Mikako offered, holding it out to Kazuma.
Kazuma took it without hesitation. He loved sweets. Being Cantonese, he had a soft spot for red bean paste.
One bite in, the sweetness spread through his mouth… but somehow tasted a little bitter.
Mikako sighed. "Looks like this shop won't be here much longer."
Kazuma felt the same. He'd grown up during China's rapid development. When he was a kid, friends' houses still had coal stoves. By the time he was older, there weren't any coal stoves left down south.
He remembered his grandfather had a huge flashlight—longer than a 500ml Coke bottle. They used it to light the way at night because it was pitch black outside.
By the time he was in high school, the streets were bright at night, and if it got dark somewhere, a phone light was enough.
So many scenes from his childhood had vanished in the tides of progress.
While Kazuma was lost in thought, the shopkeeper came out holding the cloth curtain from the door.
Old Japanese shops had these curtains—a rod-hung panel with the shop's logo. Hanging it meant the shop was open.
She brushed her fingers over the curtain's emblem, her face filled with bittersweet memories.
Suddenly, she said, "If I don't move soon, they might smash this curtain too… and everything else I treasure. This way is better."
Kazuma licked his lips. He thought Chiyoko would definitely understand this feeling if she saw it.
Even as an outsider—a transmigrator who didn't truly belong to this era—even he felt the weight of it now.
Mikako tugged his sleeve. "Let's go. Let's give her some peace."
(End of Chapter)