Yang sat up from his king-sized bed for the fourth time, still wearing the same bathrobe he woke up in after every restart.
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at his hands—perfectly healthy.
No calluses in his knuckles
His nails were intact.
No broken fingers.
"I lost, huh…" he whispered, clenching his fists, his lips tightening as the image of the blond-haired man resurfaced in his mind.
No matter what he did, he couldn't harm him.
Not even a scratch.
He wasn't even sure if the spinal lock had actually killed him.
—!!
A sudden jolt of pain tore through his body.
His veins bulged violently, blood spilling from his eyes and nose as an unbearable heat flooded him from within. He gasped, ripping the blanket away as if it were burning him.
He rolled off the bed and crashed onto the floor.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
" boss there's an urgent matter!!!!! "
The same loud and abrasive shouting came until
Bang!
The door burst open.
A man with long black hair stormed in. A scar ran over his right eye, and he wore a black jacket. Hatred twisted his features.
"You know, you should at least have the decency to respond when someone knocks," he said, advancing with heavy steps. "Even for trash like you."
He grabbed the back of Yang's neck.
"You should at least—"
He stopped.
Yang glanced at him over his shoulder. His eyes were red, and blood stained the corner of his mouth.
"I'll give you one second" Yang said quietly. "Move."
From a young age, people are taught to respect authority figures —parents, teachers, anyone placed above them. Obedience becomes ingrained, less a choice and more a reflex.
Whether it's fear of being beaten, having grades lowered, or getting laid off, the lesson is the same: comply.
Shiki—the man who had barged into the room—instinctively pulled his hand back.
"one"
Yang swung his right hand and struck Shiki across the face.
Smack!!
The sharp sound echoed throughout the room.
The force of the slap drained the light from Shiki's eyes; his body went slack before collapsing to the floor.
Yang stood up looking down on the body for a moment before heading toward the window he opend it and dropped down from it
The drop wasnt that bad it was just 5 meters the yang from the previous circle may have struggled with it but not this one
He stepped into the back courtyard, heading toward the rear exit.
He opened the door slowly, raising his left hand in front of his face.
He already knew what was coming.
And it came.
TANG!
A metal baseball bat slammed into his raised hand.
"Hoh! You blocked it. Nice."
Yang didn't even bother to look at him.
The same man who had ambushed him during his second cycle—paralyzed him and shattered his balls with that very same bat
now stood to his right. Black jacket. Sunglasses. Sparse hair on his head and face. He gripped the bat with both hands, trying to yank it free from Yang's arm.
It didn't move.
It was as if the bat had fused with him.
In one sharp motion, Yang jerked it forward, dragging the man off balance and pulling him closer.
Yang's knee shot upward.
BLURG!
The sound that followed forced the man to collapse, his mouth hanging open—no scream, no breath, just silent shock.
Yang felt nothing.
He didn't care whether the man lived or died.
He only cared that he suffered.
Raising the bat high over his shoulder, Yang brought it down with full force onto the man's legs.
CRACK!
The impact was brutal. The man's legs bent unnaturally, his body crumpling as the strength left him entirely.
Yang turned and walked away.
Before leaving, he took off his shoe and shoved one into the man's open mouth
He lifted his leg slightly, then brought it down hard onto the shoe.
The pressure forced the shoe deeper into the man's throat.
Unnecessary, you might think?
Again keep in mind This was the same man who had paralyzed Yang… and crushed his balls
Try living through that.
Being unable to move.
Enduring the humiliation of it.
Hot Nurses hovering over you, their eyes filled with pity as they help you with the most basic, everyday tasks.
…It might not sound so terrible to some.
But Yang couldn't stand it.
________________
"OOH ☆ Does that explain how you lost your shoe, big bro?"
"Mm-hmm… only one, though. I sold the other," Yang nodded at the girl in front of him. "There's some weird guy out there who'd pay good money for it."
Now Yang and a pink-haired girl were sitting side by side on the ground in a narrow alley.
Yang sat cross-legged, completely unbothered by the filth beneath him. The girl, on the other hand, crouched neatly in a feminine posture, bending low with her limbs tucked close to her body.
She wore a typical high school uniform, a small school bag resting on her lap. Her pink hair fell to her shoulders, soft and straight. But her most striking feature was her star-shaped eyes—eyes that stirred a vague sense of familiarity in Yang's mind.
If someone compared their appearances
they would look like complete opposites.
Light and dark.
"So what I want you to do… is walk toward that dojo st— I mean, just grab a couple pairs of shoes. Anything wearable. Bring them here."
Yang peeked from the corner of the alley, pointing toward a dojo a few buildings away from where they were sitting.
On the sign above it, written in bold kanji:
Shinshinkai Headquarters.
At the entrance stood two massive shoe racks.
For the past few weeks, Yang had been stealing from them… then selling the shoes to the same weird guy
Just like Robin Hood.
"But Robin Hood never did that."
"Shhh. Be quiet." Yang pressed a finger to his lips, casting a quick glance at the high schooler.
And the way he stole them?
He made high schoolers—or any kid, really, anyone easy to manipulate—do it for him. He'd promise them something in return…
Then disappear the moment the shoes were in his hands.
The girl tilted her head slightly, her index finger resting against her chin.
"Hmmm? I don't know about that, big bro… isn't that considered stealing?"
"No, it's not." Yang shook his head.
"Oh, okay ☆ If you say so." She stood up and walked toward the dojo building.
Yang's smile stretched wider.
'Keh keh keh… kids are so stupid. Kha kha kha.'
The girl reached the doorstep and waved at someone inside.
What is she doing? The fuck?
A moment later, a bald man stepped out. He was taller than average, thickly built, muscles packed densely over a broad frame. He began speaking with the girl.
Yang couldn't read lips, so he had no idea what they were saying but From the faint bits of sound that reached him, it seemed like she was introducing herself to the man.
Whoever he was, he might've been the thickest human Yang had ever seen.
It looked less like he trained for strength
and more like his body had been engineered to survive a nuke
Then the girl pointed at me, making the baldy turn his head in my direction.
As if the entire world had suddenly grown ten times colder, a chill ran down my spine.
He waved at me.
Instead, I used every ounce of willpower I had to bolt away.
Whoever that was… I didn't want to be anywhere near him.
_______________________
Huff…
I was slouched across a street bench, my head hanging off the edge, eyes fixed on the pale stretch of sky above me.
No food today, I guess.
After I escaped that place—and slipped past Hanayama—his men didn't chase me as relentlessly as I expected. Surprisingly.
Was it because I hadn't killed anyone this time?
Killed…
That word doesn't even fit what I did to that guy from the previous circle
I literally skinned him.
Like he was a lamp.
Yeah. That probably enraged the big man.
I lifted my head slightly and looked ahead.
A group of elementary school kids in bright yellow hats and oversized backpacks walked past. They made sure to give me a wide berth, their steps subtly curving away from the bench.
Can't blame them.
I'm wearing a filthy bathrobe and cheap flip-flops. That's it.
Across the street, a couple walked close together—whispering, brushing shoulders, tangled in their own little world.
" disgusting "yang whispered
Coming toward them was a tall man with short, spiky hair. His posture was rigid. His stride straight. And from the look of it… he had no intention of moving aside.
The couple tried to shift away, but the sidewalk was narrow
Shoulders collided.
At first, they kept walking.
Then the girl grimaced.
"Augh…"
Was she embarrassed? Annoyed?
Maybe she thought her boyfriend looked weak for not reacting.
Or maybe that's just how he interpreted it.
He stopped and turned sharply.
"Oi. Watch it, dumbass. Look where you're walking, fool."
The spiky-haired man stopped mid-step.
"What did you just say?"
He slipped his hands into his pockets and took a slow step forward.
"I sa—"
CRACK.
Before the other man could finish, the spiky-haired thug's right hand shot out of his pocket and smashed into his jaw, the impact folding him to the ground.
"Kyah— babe, no—" the woman cried, but he backhanded her aside without even looking. Normally it wouldn't have done much—except he was wearing brass knuckles. That explained the sickening damage from the first punch.
He strode toward the fallen man, grabbed him by the collar, and hauled him up, fist rising for another blow.
But before it could fall, a hand caught his wrist.
He turned sharply, ready to explode—only to find a man with long, silky hair standing there, dressed in a bathrobe and smelled like pure unfettered ass.
It was Yang.
Annoyance flickered across his face… then recognition. Then amusement.
"Well, well, well."yang said
And the tall, spiky-haired man was Tarou.
The same guy from juvie—the one locked up for rape
Tarou's forwn stretched wide. "Get lost before I take my frustration out on you too"
Yang raised both hands calmly. "Alright."
His right hand shifted into a casual peace sign.
Tarou tilted his head—
—and the world went black.
"Huh—?! Aghh!"
Yang's fingers shot forward without warning, driving toward Tarou's eyes. He pushed in hard, forcing him back as pain tore through the man's vision, digging deeper before Tarou could even react
He let out a ragged scream.
"GAAAAAAAH!"
His fist lashed out on instinct as pain tore through him.
Yang stepped back, watching Tarou roll on the ground, clutching his eye.
"T-THERE'S NOTHING… I CAN'T SEE!"
There was no doubt now—he was completely blind.
The couple slowly rose to their feet, staring at the chaos in stunned confusion. Who wouldn't be? First, one man had attacked them brutally. Then another appeared—not to stop the violence, but to beat the attacker just as viciously.
Yang sprang forward and came down hard on the back of Tarou's head, driving his face toward the pavement.
Crack!!
He panted heavily. "Haaaf… haaaf…"
No scream followed this time—only faint, broken whimpers.
But it wasn't enough.
Yang grabbed Tarou's right hand, intent on snapping it.
As Tarou lay sprawled on the ground, Yang noticed someone standing directly behind him.
"Yo."
It was the same bald man from the dojo, looking down at him calmly.
"Don't worry. Go on. Continue what you were doing."
Yang frowned. "Kind of hard to do that when someone's standing over me."
The man gestured toward Yang's grip on Tarou's arm.
"You're doing it wrong. That technique is mostly for restraining someone and limiting movement. It's not very effective against opponents who are physically stronger—they can just lift you."
He continued evenly, almost like an instructor correcting a student.
"If you want to break someone's arm quickly, trap their wrist under your armpit, use your forearm to apply pressure to the elbow, and reinforce it with your other hand. That way, you can snap the limb easily."
Yang narrowed his eyes.
Isn't that basically a seated leg lock?
And doesn't that work poorly on arms?
"It won't work on ar—"
"Boy, just do it." The baldy cut him off.
Yang exhaled and did exactly as he was told. He was right—it felt awkward applying it to an arm.
"Tsk… seems you're wrong, old man."
"Oh yeah? Look again."
Yang glanced at Tarou's hand. It was bent at an unnatural angle—that's why it had felt awkward to hold.
It had snapped the moment he applied even a little force.
"Not bad," Yang smirked as he rose to his feet.
"See? I told you—"
Their words trailed off as both of them glanced down at Tarou. The color drained from their faces, and a cold panic began to creep in
"I'm trusting he did something to you," the bald man said carefully, "and that you were just defending yourself… right?"
"Nah," Yang replied flatly. "He didn't do anything to me"
The bald man stared at him. "You serious?"
"Dead serious."
The bald man glared at Yang, who had his pinky buried in his ear.
The man whose jaw had nearly been shattered staggered closer, breathing heavily.
"Gao… i khil tAch kare af ham…" he muttered, his words slurred and broken—unintelligible to Yang.
The bald man, however, understood. He nodded, then grabbed Yang by the shoulders.
"He told us to leave. Come on."
Yang narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the hand gripping him.
It was thick—just like the rest of him.
The man's entire body was thick. Even his hands looked like they belonged to a bear.
Yang couldn't feel flesh in that grip. It felt like iron.
His gaze slowly lifted to the man's face.
"Why should I come with you?"
"Hm… let's see." The bald man stroked his chin as though deep in thought. "I could take you to the dojo so you can sort things out with the boys whose shoes you stole. Or—" his tone shifted slightly, casual but edged with intent, "—if you'd rather not, I can drag you to the police instead."
Oh?
__________________________
As Yang and the baldy walked side by side toward the dojo, Yang broke the silence.
"What's your name, old man?"
"Doppo Orochi."
Yang's eyes widened so much they looked ready to pop out of their sockets. He slowly turned his head to stare at him, disbelief written all over his face.
The baldy caught his reaction and smirked.
"Just kidding."
"Tsk."
Yang's expression settled back into neutrality, though a faint trace of irritation lingered.
For a moment, he truly thought he had met the god of war.
Doppo Orochi.
The name had a habit of echoing in Yang's mind throughout his time in juvie
Partly because Yuzuru always talked about him
The bald man at his side wouldn't stop chuckling.
Was it really that funny?
"Looks like we're here," the bald man said.
"Oh. Great. Good luck, old man—I'm leaving," Yang replied, turning to walk away.
A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him mid-step.
"Come on, kid, don't be like that. Just talk with the boys, have some tea, explain your situation, and you're free to go."
"… "
"Relax. They're good kids. Every single one of them."
__________________