Looking at Kazama Haru, whose expression had gone cold as ice and who gazed down at him with absolute contempt, Uda Koji—still kneeling on the ground in agony—finally showed unmistakable terror in his eyes.
"Y-You, what are you going to do?! If you lay a finger on me, the Ryujin-kai will absolutely—"
"Enough yapping."
Kazama Haru sneered, grabbed a fistful of that yellow hair with his left hand, forcing their eyes to meet, then drove his right fist squarely into Uda Koji's face.
One punch. Two punches. Three punches... Until the man had no strength left to beg and slipped completely into unconsciousness, Kazama Haru finally released his grip, letting that head drop unceremoniously to the pavement.
Surveying the scene, besides the stunned students and passersby recording his fighting stance like they were filming an action drama, only the groaning Yakuza thugs scattered across the ground remained.
Kazama Haru made no move to stop the filming; this footage served as evidence proving his innocence. The more recordings, the better.
"Tch..."
A sharp sting from his right fist made Kazama Haru grimace. He raised it for inspection—the knuckles were a bloody mess. No broken bones, thankfully, but an ugly bruise was already spreading across the surface.
This was expected; after all, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. The sheer force he'd unleashed on Uda Koji's face meant bearing some of that impact himself.
Even with his stamina raised to seven points, it didn't mean he'd become some invincible superhuman; every bit of pain he was meant to feel, he still felt.
Rubbing the injured area with a wince, Kazama Haru's gaze shifted toward Riko Nakamura, still standing beneath the large tree, her expression shattered, utterly unable to process the reality unfolding before her.
He was a firm believer in true gender equality—so naturally, he wouldn't overlook the mastermind behind this chaos simply because she happened to be a woman.
Watching Kazama Haru's approaching figure, Riko Nakamura's heart hammered so violently it threatened to burst from her chest. Her breathing turned ragged, constricted, like when her throat was squeezed during one of those "games" with her boyfriend.
Who exactly is Kazama Haru?
Could an ordinary student really take on an entire group of Yakuza by himself?
She raised her trembling head. Kazama Haru's expression before her was unusually "gentle." Yet looking at him, Riko Nakamura's body refused to stop shaking.
"K-Ka.., Kazama-kun."
Riko Nakamura bowed her head low, nails biting into her palms as she forced herself to stay calm.
Desperate to beg Kazama Haru to spare her, she quickly and naturally tugged down the strap of her top, her voice dripping with flattery:
"Kazama-kun, I was wrong. I shouldn't have caused you trouble. As long as you spare me, whatever you want to do to me..."
"Hah?"
Kazama Haru dug a finger into his ear as if questioning what he'd just heard: "Confidence is fine and all, but what makes you think..."
"...I'd be interested in an ugly woman like you?"
With those cutting words, Kazama Haru raised his arm high and—with even more force than at noon—brought his palm crashing across Riko Nakamura's face.
…
"Ugh, seriously?! I finally carved out some free time and followed all those glowing reviews to visit this café, and now they're telling me that gorgeous barista is off today?"
"Honestly, today's coffee was... really not up to standard. I knew it—the real charm of this place is definitely Kazama-kun..."
Inside the café, customers—mostly women—sipped their drinks with expressions of disappointment and regret painting their features.
Many had specifically planned their visit, arriving with high expectations to taste the creations of this handsome barista who supposedly possessed magical hands, based on enthusiastic recommendations from social media posts and café vloggers. They hadn't expected such a letdown.
This harsh contrast filled the café with a symphony of complaints, and several customers openly threatened to leave scathing reviews on rating sites.
"I sincerely apologize. We'll work hard to improve. Please bear with us a little longer."
Togawa Sakiko handed the finished tea to the disappointed customer before her, bowing deeply once again.
She'd lost count of how many times she'd done this today.
The relentless flood of customers and the endless stream of complaints pressed down on her with crushing weight, nearly suffocating.
But to fulfill her duties as staff, she could only swallow the pressure while transforming into an apologetic angel, smiling mechanically and bowing to customers like a wind-up doll.
The temporary barista sent to cover wasn't faring any better. He was supposed to be working behind the scenes, yet newly arrived customers would occasionally drift over and scrutinize him pointedly.
Then came the soul-crushing remarks that struck him even as he simply tried to do his job: "Why isn't it Kazama-kun?"
"Didn't the internet say the barista was drop-dead gorgeous? This is such a downgrade!"
"Ugh, this tastes terrible. Is this café running some kind of bait-and-switch?"
Meanwhile, the café's efficiency had plummeted to dismal levels.
The two temporary partners had zero chemistry; they either handed out wrong orders or mislabeled drinks, their communication was abysmal, and every task devolved into frantic chaos.
If only Kazama-kun were here... things would be so much smoother.
Enduring the headache-inducing exhaustion, Sakiko finally understood just how much pressure Kazama Haru had shouldered for her all this time, how vital his presence was, and how precious their seamless coordination truly was.
"H-Hey, look at this! Isn't the person getting attacked in this video Kazama-kun from this café?!"
In the queue waiting to order, a customer clutching her phone and watching a video exclaimed as if she'd stumbled upon buried treasure.
Hearing it involved the handsome barista, nearby customers crowded around. To make viewing easier, the customer held her phone aloft.
"No way?! Wow, it really is him! Did he get caught up in something dangerous?"
"I had no idea he knew kendo! His technique looks totally legit—he's completely dominating those thugs. So cool!"
Customers throughout the café craned their necks, many pulling out their own phones to search for the video titled "Movie-Level Epic Scene! Kendo Ikemen Takes on Ten!" on video-sharing platforms.
Uploaded less than an hour ago, it had already amassed nearly 100,000 views, trending toward Tokyo's regional hot topics.
Listening to the customers' excited chatter, Sakiko—already deeply concerned the moment Kazama Haru's name was mentioned—felt her heart lurch. While delivering tea to a dine-in customer, she stole a furtive glance at someone's phone screen.
In the video, Kazama Haru held a shinai raised high, facing the thugs' coordinated assault with composure, his movements swift and merciless.
Unlike the other customers who focused on his heroic fighting stance, when Togawa Sakiko saw Kazama Haru surrounded by those menacing thugs, her chest tightened painfully.
How did Kazama-kun end up in such a dangerous situation?
Togawa Sakiko's composure shattered instantly, anxiety bleeding across her features almost too vividly to conceal. If she weren't on shift, she would have called Kazama Haru immediately to confirm he was safe.
Simultaneously, a deep-rooted fury began smoldering quietly within her chest.
Who dared to cause him such trouble?
If only she could still wield the Togawa family's influence—with a single word, these lowlifes would all be sinking to the bottom of Tokyo Bay by nightfall, not a single one spared.
But reality offered only powerless fantasies; even when her irreplaceable friend was being threatened like this, she could only choke down her helpless rage.
Carrying such turbulent emotions, Sakiko's jaw tightened with determination as she bit her lip, enduring a grueling shift that stretched like an eternity until finally—closing time arrived.
"Otsukaresama!"
"Ahh, today was brutal. Head home and rest up, Togawa-san."
Unlike Kazama Haru, who always lingered with her in the café for a while, the substitute employee fled the moment his duties ended, practically sprinting out the door.
Her gaze drifted to the empty bar counter. Without that familiar gentle figure stationed there, Sakiko's eyes betrayed a flicker of loneliness.
No black tea today, then.
After a brief moment of melancholy, Togawa Sakiko quickly retrieved her phone from the locker.
No—now isn't the time for moping. What's Kazama-kun's situation? Is he hurt? I still haven't confirmed anything!
With such frantic worry churning inside her, Togawa Sakiko opened her chat window with Kazama Haru without hesitation and pressed the call button.