The abandoned three–story building behind the gym stank of smoke, alcohol, and sweat.
The walls were stained with graffiti, broken bottles crunched underfoot, and the air was filled with the raucous laughter of delinquents.
Some sat in groups gambling with dice, others smoked in corners, and more than a few were openly groping and making out with the girls hanging around them, their giggles half–hearted and hollow.
At the center of this chaos sat Nowan, the self–proclaimed king of Yurei High.
His tall, muscular frame leaned back lazily on the hood of a rusted car, his boots planted arrogantly on the bumper.
A girl lounged across his lap, her shirt slightly undone, while he took long, slow drags from his cigarette.
His underlings eyed him with a mixture of respect and fear.
In several routes of the game, Seijirou remembered, this man was a nightmare.
A predator who would ambush heroines, break their spirit, then toss them to his men like toys.
The protagonist, Tadano Taro, had no hope of stopping him before getting the martial arts skills.
Just as Nowan exhaled a plume of smoke, something cut through the air with a sharp whistle.
Instinct screamed at him. He jerked his head to the side just in time.
A baseball bat smashed into the car door where his head had been, the metal screeching as it dented under the force.
The girl on his lap yelped and scrambled away.
Nowan's eyes widened, then darkened with fury.
"The fuck?!" he roared, his voice echoing through the broken building. "Which one of you bastards thinks you're funny?!"
Dozens of heads turned toward the entrance.
There, standing in the doorway like they owned the place, was Seijirou and his crew.
Renji stood at the front, cracking his knuckles with a feral grin. "That would be me. Got a problem with it?"
Sakai adjusted his shades and laughed, his tone dripping with arrogance. "This place is ours now. Pack your shit and fuck off."
The Yurei gang erupted in a chorus of jeers and curses, some already reaching for their bats and pipes.
Nowan's eyes narrowed when he focused on Seijirou. His anger sharpened into recognition.
"So it's you, Kageyama Seijirou. The so–called number one delinquent of Shunji High. Tch." He flicked his cigarette away, the ember hissing as it hit the concrete. "Do you plan on going to war with me?"
Seijirou stepped forward, hands casually stuffed into his pockets, his expression calm, almost bored.
His crew followed at his sides like wolves circling prey.
"This isn't a war," Seijirou said evenly, his voice carrying through the room, silencing the murmurs. "This is an occupation. You and your boys were squatting in my territory. I'm just here to take back what's mine."
The calmness of his tone was more insulting than any threat.
Nowan's face twisted in rage. He spat on the ground and barked, "Don't get cocky, brat! Just because you've got a reputation around here doesn't mean you can walk into my house and talk big!"
He pointed toward Seijirou, his voice booming. "Tear them apart! Show these Shunji bastards what happens when you mess with Yurei High!"
The room exploded into chaos. Dozens of Yurei punks surged forward, bats, chains, and pipes raised, their shouts filling the air.
Renji let out an eager laugh, rolling his shoulders. "Been itching for a fight all day."
Sakai smirked, pushing his shades up. "Time to clean house."
Shou sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "What a pain… but fine."
Suzune, already tying up her hair into a ponytail, grinned wickedly. "Try not to lose too fast, boys. I'll be watching."
And at the center of it all, Seijirou rolled his neck, his muscles loosening, his eyes gleaming with the calm of a predator.
The Yurei gang charged like a stampede, weapons raised high, curses flying out of their mouths.
The floor shook under the rush of bodies, the air thick with the smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol.
Renji stepped forward with a wide grin, slamming his fist into the jaw of the first punk dumb enough to rush him.
The crack of bone echoed, and the boy collapsed instantly.
Renji laughed. "Too weak! Who's next?!"
He swung wildly, raw power behind every punch, sending bodies flying with each blow.
Sakai was different. Despite his appearance, he was calm, precise, almost elegant.
He slipped past a metal pipe that came whistling at his head, tilted his shades down, and drove his elbow into the thug's gut.
As the boy doubled over, Sakai hooked his leg and flipped him to the ground, smirking.
"Try harder, trash." Another came swinging a bat, but Sakai caught it mid–swing, yanked it from the guy's grip, and cracked it against his knee. "Cheap toys."
Shou looked irritated more than anything.
"Tch, noisy." A punk grabbed his collar, and Shou didn't even flinch.
He grabbed the boy's wrist, twisted it until the guy screamed, then headbutted him so hard blood sprayed from his nose.
Another came from behind, but Shou turned, calm, and smashed his forehead into the guy's face too.
Both fell like broken dolls.
"Next."
Suzune was a blur of movement. She slipped under a chain that lashed out, grabbed it, and yanked the thug forward.
Her knee slammed into his stomach, then she elbowed the back of his neck, dropping him instantly.
A taller delinquent swung a bat at her head, but she ducked, spun low, and kicked his shin so hard he fell screaming.
She smirked, brushing her bangs aside. "You're all disappointments. Your girls must be faking it with you. None of you can even last a minute."
But Seijirou… Seijirou was something else.
The first boy that reached him swung a bat with both hands. Seijirou didn't even blink.
His hand shot out, catching the bat mid–swing. His grip tightened, the wood creaking, and then—snap—the bat broke clean in half.
Before the punk could even scream, Seijirou's knee crashed into his chest, and he collapsed, wheezing for air.
Two more tried to flank him. Seijirou sidestepped, grabbed one by the wrist, twisted it, and in the same motion, hurled him into his buddy.
Both slammed into the wall with a sickening thud.
Another rushed in with a knife, jabbing recklessly. Seijirou weaved between the thrusts, his movements fluid, his face calm.
Then he stepped in, palm–striking the guy in the chin with such force his feet left the ground. The punk hit the floor and didn't get back up.
"Pathetic," Seijirou muttered, his voice cold.
More came, but Seijirou moved like he was born for this.
His fists were sharp like karate, his grapples precise like judo, his counters vicious like Muay Thai.
A boy tried to kick him in the stomach, but Seijirou caught his leg, twisted it, and flipped him with Brazilian jiu–jitsu.
Another came swinging a chain, but Seijirou slipped inside his guard and delivered three lightning–fast punches to his ribs, finishing with an elbow to the temple.
The boy dropped instantly.
In seconds, ten bodies lay sprawled around him, groaning or unconscious.
Nowan, still standing on the hood of the car, watched with narrowed eyes, his fists tightening.
His men were being crushed like insects.
He spat, his voice booming. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Kageyama! You think breaking a few of my boys makes you king?!"
Seijirou lifted his eyes to him, calm, unshaken. He cracked his knuckles, then rolled his shoulders, the corner of his lip twitching upward in the faintest smirk.
"King? People already call me that." Seijirou grinned cruelly, "So why don't you kneel down and lick my shoes?"
Nowan snarled and leapt down from the car, pushing the terrified girl aside.
His boots slammed into the ground as he cracked his neck, glaring at Seijirou with bloodlust.
Around them, the brawl still raged—Renji laughing like a beast, Sakai dismantling punks with ease, Shou breaking bones in silence, Suzune darting through enemies like a shadow.
But the air grew heavy, the noise dimming in Seijirou's ears as his focus narrowed on Nowan.
'So it's come to this' he thought. 'The so–called king of Yurei High versus me. Let's see if your legend was anything but a joke.'
Nowan clenched his fists, his muscles bulging, veins popping. "I'll crush you, Seijirou! I'll tear that smug face apart!"
Seijirou stepped forward, unfazed. His shadow loomed long in the dim light of the broken building.
"Try."