At first, when the ordinary street thugs received a call from their bosses, they were a bit confused.
Why, in the middle of the night, were they told to rush to headquarters?
Of course, these thugs lived like nocturnal rats anyway, active only after dark.
When they finally arrived at headquarters, what they saw in the abandoned factory district shocked them—a massive crowd of their fellow thugs kneeling in the center.
Startled, they immediately began looking around for their own bosses.
And then— oh, there they were.
Their bosses were kneeling too, right up in the front.
So in the end, Haruto didn't even need to act. The newcomers simply knelt down behind their comrades of their own accord.
The boss of the Seventh District thugs was dumbfounded.
What the hell was going on?
Why was he kneeling here?
Why had tonight suddenly turned into such a catastrophe?
But the ones most terrified right now were the first thugs who had tried to block Saten Ruiko earlier.
They didn't understand.
All they did was harass a random schoolgirl on the street.
And somehow, their entire organization ended up kneeling here because of it.
They figured, if their Seventh District boss ever found out the real reason, he would skin them alive.
Fortunately, there wouldn't be any chance for that.
Once the kneeling crowd had nearly filled in, Haruto lightly cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.
Not that he needed to—all attention was already on him. They were all kneeling, and he was the only one standing. How could they not look at him?
"You all kneel properly. I need a favor from you."
Haruto said calmly.
The thugs: (⊙_⊙;)
Who the hell asks for a favor while making people kneel?!
"In front of you, on the ground, there are pens and paper. Each of you will write down every single crime you've ever committed. When you're done, pass them forward from the back rows. I'll tally them up. Oh, and I assume none of you are illiterate?"
Haruto figured that shouldn't be the case. After all, this was Academy City. Even thugs here would have had basic education.
The crowd of thugs exchanged nervous glances.
This wasn't human speech anymore! Who in their right mind would honestly write down all their crimes?!
And then…
They suddenly felt their bodies moving against their will, obediently writing down every last crime they remembered.
Haruto had decided—reading each one's memories was far too tedious. And their memories were boring anyway.
So he just used the Blacklight Virus to force them to confess on paper.
Before long, sheets of self-written confessions were being passed from the back rows toward the front, until they finally piled up in Haruto's hands.
He leafed through them one by one.
Meanwhile, the kneeling thugs felt like their souls were leaving their bodies.
It was as if they were staring straight at their own doomsday.
After scanning through, Haruto divided them into two groups.
One group consisted of useful candidates, suitable to be promoted as D-Rank personnel.
The other group had only committed petty crimes—the kind that would earn nothing more than a warning or maybe up to three years in prison at most.
Excellent. The D-Rank candidate pool was thriving.
As for the rest, Haruto didn't plan to wipe them all out.
If every single thug were erased, it wouldn't benefit Academy City.
Because as long as the system of Academy City remained unchanged, new thugs would always emerge.
And if there were no old guard left, these new thugs would grow wild and unchecked, causing who knows what chaos.
So Haruto gave his judgment:
"The rest of you—go work in the electronics factory for three years. Spend some time being honest."
That was his command.
And so the majority of the thugs were dismissed.
They didn't even know what to feel.
Being forced into factory work was the ultimate shame for street punks. But compared to prison? This was a blessing.
Besides, there was no resisting this man's command. Their bosses themselves were still kneeling, weren't they?
The ones Haruto kept behind were basically all D-Rank candidates.
"Call the bosses from the other districts. Tell them there's urgent business to discuss."
Haruto said.
The Seventh District boss immediately pulled out his phone—not even because he was controlled, but because he wanted to.
After all, it wasn't fair!
Why should the Seventh District take all the punishment while the other districts escaped?
If they were doomed, everyone should be doomed together.
And so, by dawn, Districts Seven, Eight, Nine, and Ten—the four largest sectors—were thrown into turmoil.
The city's security forces scrambled to prepare, afraid that the thugs were planning some desperate uprising.
But after investigating, they were stunned.
The same thugs they'd been fighting in guerrilla skirmishes for years had all gone into the electronics factories—to screw bolts en masse.
The security forces were speechless.
What the hell did this mean?
Were they fundraising for crime?
But if so, why would they… screw bolts?!
Meanwhile, on Haruto's side, with the flick of a wrist, he had completely dismantled Academy City's largest gray organization—the Armed Gang of Level 0s.
Their cadres were now all new D-Rank recruits, already handed over to the Foundation.
The rest of the talentless thugs were off to screw bolts.
By the time dawn fully broke, very few were still kneeling before Haruto.
Only a handful remained—the ones who were actually competent within the group, but not evil enough to be ranked as D-Class criminals.
Haruto had kept them for one purpose.
If the bulk of the thugs were going to spend three years in factories, someone still needed to manage them.
These survivors would do nicely.
Haruto's gaze swept across them and finally rested on one man.
A Seventh District cadre—one whose memories Haruto had read before.
Komaba Ritoku.
A hulking, gorilla-like man, his body packed with muscles, his cheap jacket stretched tight, as if it would rip apart if he flexed too hard.
He looked like a seasoned gangster in his forties.
But in reality, he was not even twenty yet—younger than Haruto.
Though his terrifying appearance often scared people, he actually disliked conflict.
In contrast to his destructive looks, his voice was flat and monotonous, like a photocopier spitting out paper.
Were it not for his gorilla-like appearance, no one would think he was a thug.
In the Seventh District, as a cadre, he had forbidden his subordinates from forcing girls into prostitution.
He wasn't stupid either.
He had worked with tech specialists, running ATM skimming operations to fund his people's survival.
And he had saved many girls from the Seventh District.
In fact, Komaba Ritoku had once rescued a girl who was being harassed by thugs.
That girl later became his friend, and though it gave him headaches, he continued to protect her.
Her name was Fremea Seivelun.
Yes—Frenda's little sister.
Though Frenda herself never knew.
In a sense, Komaba Ritoku had saved all the Seventh District thugs too—because if Frenda ever found out her little sister was harassed by thugs, she would've marched in with explosives and blown them all sky-high.
Sure, in front of Haruto, Frenda acted like a cute and harmless girl, easily teased and manipulated.
But to anyone else?
She'd make them eat grenades.
A girl who could survive in the Dark Side as a powerless human wasn't some delicate flower.
"Komaba Ritoku. From now on, you'll lead the Armed Level 0 Gang."
Haruto said calmly.
Komaba froze in shock.
With his scary appearance, he looked like he'd just lost his mind.
He couldn't understand why such responsibility was being entrusted to him, nor how this terrifying boy even knew his name.
But he didn't dare refuse.
Haruto's methods were far too terrifying.
Afterward, Haruto appointed the other few survivors as the group's new cadres.
He wasn't worried about whether they could command respect. The Blacklight Virus would keep the others obedient—at least for the three years they spent screwing bolts.
And after three years, if these people still couldn't secure their positions as cadres, then they weren't fit for the job anyway.
Once everything was arranged, Haruto simply left.
By then, daylight had fully broken.
And in just a few hours, the opening ceremony would begin.