Chapter 223: An Abnormal Intimacy
Clang! Rattle! Thud!
The reconstruction continued, progressing at lightning speed thanks to the
supernatural workforce on hand.
However, a bizarre atmosphere had settled over the site. As Ren Shiroki and
Kaoru Hanayama began to converse, the volume of the entire construction crew
seemed to drop by several decibels. Tools were picked up and set down with
exaggerated care. Everyone was holding their breath.
Later, Chiharu Shiba would recall the scene like this:
"The world's greatest brawler—the Otokodachi himself—was actually gossiping with
a friend about another friend's love life. It was a once-in-a-lifetime sight!"
"Hm..."
Hanayama realized his voice had carried a bit too far. He cleared his throat,
dropping his tone into a low, rumbling bass. "Anyway... you've seen her, right?
Baki Hanma's woman—Kozue Matsumoto."
Ren Shiroki nodded, mixing cement. "She's a friend of my sister, Arisa."
Hanayama dusted the lime from his palms. "Baki and that girl... they've been
inseparable lately. Dating, going to the park, all that 'sweet' stuff."
Ren's eyes sharpened. He was internally curious where Hanayama—a man who lived
in a world of tobacco, booze, and broken bones—got his celebrity gossip. But the
mood was too serious to derail with a joke.
"We ran into them at the park a while back, Fusui and I," Ren recalled. "They
looked like they were in a good place."
"Is that so?"
Hanayama looked up at the sky, his oval glasses reflecting the sun. "So, tell
me. For Baki Hanma... does he truly want that girl? Or is he just looking for a
'woman' in the general sense? Which mindset is he operating under?"
"Well..."
Ren leaned on his shovel, looking at the Yakuza patriarch with a smirk.
"Hanayama-kun, are you actually gossiping behind a friend's back about his
dating life?"
"I am," Hanayama admitted frankly. "Because it bothers me. I want an outside
perspective. The Baki Hanma I traded blows with has always sought to be the
strongest—stronger even than his father, Yujiro Hanma."
"Back when he fought the Ogre, I shared a drink with him until dawn. I
understood him then. But his current lifestyle... it worries me."
"Can he still get stronger like this?"
Hanayama let out a long, heavy sigh. "If he just wanted a woman, that would be
simple. I could find him as many as he wanted, any type he desired. But that
girl seems to have a massive influence on Baki's mindset. What is he thinking?
I'm curious... is Baki Hanma still 'evolving'?"
Hanayama beckoned to Fusui Kure, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping from
behind a pile of bricks. "You and Ren-san are quite close. I want to hear your
take on this."
"..."
The sudden question left Ren and Fusui staring at each other. They thought for a
long moment, but nothing came to mind.
Hanayama looked at Fusui, becoming more specific. "Tell me, what is it that you
want from this relationship?"
Fusui answered instantly, without a hint of hesitation: "I want his genes."
Hanayama: "..."
"I mean," Hanayama clarified, "on a level of personal intimacy. Does your desire
for what you want from Ren-san have anything to do with his strength?"
Fusui pointed a finger at Ren, her expression dead serious. "It has everything
to do with it. It must be his genetic seeds."
She then added with a cheerful grin, "And besides, if Ren-chin gets even
stronger, his genetic data will be even higher quality! It's a win-win!"
Hanayama: "..."
Something is fundamentally wrong with these people, the Boss thought.
"Hanayama-kun, you're overthinking it. 'Worry breeds chaos,' as they say. Just
be chill," Ren laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Baki is doing what he wants to
do. He's taking the good with the bad. Why is that a problem? He's Baki Hanma,
after all."
"Exactly!"
Fusui nodded in agreement. "For example, I've been researching Hypnosis lately.
I found some obscure Kure Clan techniques, though the records are fragmented.
I'm not sure if they even work."
She slung an elbow over Ren's shoulder, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Ren-chin,
want to be my test subject?"
Ren: "...No."
"Eh? You just said we should be 'chill' and 'take the good with the bad'! Come
on—!"
Ren and Fusui began a playful scuffle that quickly devolved into a high-speed
exchange of joint-lock attempts and grappling counters. It was a frantic,
violent display of affection.
Watching them, Hanayama Kaoru finally realized something.
I wasted my breath.
Fusui Kure's logic was operating in a different dimension, and Ren Shiroki was
the only man insane enough to be her anchor. Their relationship bore zero
resemblance to the youthful, delicate romance of Baki and Kozue.
In other words—there was zero reference value here.
Having accepted this, Hanayama stopped worrying. He helped move the last of the
cement bags, then headed to the seating area to crack open a bottle of Wild
Turkey. He sat down to rest, though a trace of gloom still lingered on his face.
Ren, currently busy prying Fusui's arms from a rear-naked choke attempt, looked
over at him.
"If it's still bothering you, why don't you just go ask him?" Ren suggested.
"But don't ask him about 'men and women' in the abstract. Ask him about 'Baki
Hanma and Kozue Matsumoto.' That's the only answer that matters. Anything else
will just piss him off."
"..."
Hanayama paused, then let out a rare, genuine chuckle. "You're right. I'll do
that."
Perhaps I was just too focused on Baki that I let my own thoughts get tangled,
he thought. He felt much lighter. Seeing Ren getting tackled by Fusui again, he
asked casually, "Need a hand with that?"
"Nah, I'm good," Ren gasped, nearly being folded in half.
Hanayama: "..."
I don't understand these two at all. I'll just stick to the whiskey.
He snapped the neck of the bottle off with his bare hand and used the bottle
itself as a glass, draining the high-proof spirit in a single, heroic go.
Because of the massive amount of manpower and the professional crew from Mokichi
Construction, the repairs were finished in just a few hours. The street was
paved, and the Hub's walls were rebuilt.
The group looked at their handiwork with satisfaction. Even Hanayama seemed
pleased, celebrating with a few more bottles. Now, all they had to do was clear
the remaining trash and wait for the asphalt and cement to cure.
As Ren was pondering what to order for a celebratory lunch, a sound drifted from
the end of the block.
VROOOOM—!
The thunderous roar of multiple high-performance engines echoed through the
street. A massive gang of Bozosoku bikers was screaming toward the Hub, looking
for trouble.
Ren turned to Chiharu. "Chiharu-san, did you call more of the boys for the
cleanup?"
Chiharu Shiba shook his head. "No. Those guys are clumsy; I didn't want them
messing up your place. I told everyone to stay away."
If they weren't Chiharu's men, their arrival was a problem. This was
Hanayama-gumi territory, and the "GANDAM" gang was on active patrol.
As the group looked on in confusion, a scrawny salaryman raised a trembling
hand.
"Um... excuse me..."
It was Kazuo Yamashita, sweating buckets and looking like he wanted to vanish
into the pavement. He explained with a shaky voice, "Those guys... I think
they're the delinquent gang that's been harassing my younger son, Yasuo. I think
they're called 'GURANDE' (The Great Chaos Emperors)."
"Yasuo joined them to try and act tough, but they started extorting him for huge
'membership fees.' He tried to steal money from home last night with some of his
friends, but Ohma-san taught them a lesson."
"I... I didn't think they'd follow us here..." Kazuo's legs were shaking. He
felt a soul-crushing guilt for bringing this trouble to the masters.
The group, however, didn't seem to care about the "trouble."
"Small fry," someone muttered.
But then, Ren Shiroki's eyes widened. "Wait! STOP!"
He was too late.
Screeeech—!!
Dozens of GURANDE motorcycles tore through the construction tape. They skidded
and swerved directly over the wet, uncured asphalt, leaving deep, jagged ruts
and ruining the smooth surface.
The bikers skidded to a halt in front of the Hub. Their leader, a thug wielding
a wooden bokken, was holding a terrified teenage boy by the collar—Kazuo's son,
Yasuo, whose face was already a map of bruises.
"Hey! You think you can mess with our hustle and then go out for all-night
drinks?!" the leader screamed. "So you were hiding here, huh? Looking for
protection from these losers?"
"We're going to show you the true meaning of terror! The power of GURANDE!"
The leader hoisted his wooden sword, his eyes scanning the crowd of people
covered in dust and cement. "And don't say we're bullies! We'll take you
on 1v1!"
"..." "..."
Five Minutes Later.
"WE ARE SO DEEPLY SORRY!!!"
Dozens of Bozosoku were kneeling on the ground, their faces swollen and
unrecognizable. They were slamming their heads against the pavement in a
synchronized dogeza, begging for mercy and promising to reform their lives. They
vowed to pay for every cent of the damage and fix the road themselves.
"Tch!"
Chiharu Shiba spit on the leader's collar. Using his unrefined, brawling fists
and his legendary "Guts," Chiharu had single-handedly pulverized the leader's
wooden sword, his motorcycle, and eventually his consciousness.
The display of "Yankee" brawling—especially the part where Chiharu punched a
bike until it stopped working—was incredibly entertaining for the spectators. It
took the edge off their frustration at having the road ruined.
"By the way..."
The group finally turned their attention to the two "new" additions who had been
helping with the bricks.
"When exactly did you two get here?"
Ohma Tokita and Kazuo Yamashita looked up from their pile of bricks, safety
helmets askew.
(End of Chapter)
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