Inside Apartment 209, the air was thick and stagnant, a foul cocktail of stale cigarettes, cheap booze, and the sour stench of sweat.
Mayuzuki, a blonde-haired girl, lay tossed into a corner like a piece of discarded luggage. Her hands and feet were bound tight with coarse hemp rope, and a ragged cloth was stuffed into her mouth, stifling her cries. Dust clung to her school uniform, and matted golden strands of hair were plastered against her sweat-drenched forehead.
The cramped space was occupied by four women caked in heavy makeup and three men with hair dyed in a riot of neon colors. The man who appeared to be the leader—a cigarette dangling from his lips—was locked in a heated argument with a woman sporting a prominent lip piercing.
"Are you out of your mind?" the man snapped, irritably scratching at his greasy hair. "If you thought she was an eyesore, you should've just found a chance to beat her up. What the hell did you bring her back here for?"
"The brat's got a foul mouth," the woman with the lip piercing huffed, the metal stud glinting coldly under the flickering light. "If she'd shown even a shred of humility, things wouldn't have escalated like this."
"The problem now is what to do with her!" The leader's brow furrowed deeply as he took a sharp drag of his cigarette. "We're delinquents, not kidnappers. Abduction is a felony. If the cops catch wind of this..."
"Relax, you won't have to lift a finger," the woman sneered, revealing a row of jagged, uneven teeth. She turned her gaze toward Mayuzuki, who was trembling in the corner. "Didn't you say you knew some mid-level executives over at the Nisanhai Syndicate? This girl's pretty enough. I bet they'd pay a decent price for her."
"Yuko, you're cold," the man said, his eyes widening so much the cigarette nearly tumbled from his lips. "If she ends up with the Nisanhai, she'll be filming 'adult videos' until the day she drops dead."
"Hmph, it's her own fault for being a bitch," Yuko spat, her face contorting with rage. "She actually dared to tell me I'm ugly and that no man would ever want me. Fine then. I'll find her plenty of men to show her exactly how much they 'want' her."
On the floor, Mayuzuki felt a chill settle in her bones that had nothing to do with the drafty room. She shook her head frantically, tears blurring her vision as muffled whimpers died in her throat. She was just a rebellious girl who hated school—she wasn't a real criminal. She had heard the rumors before: how Tokyo gangs forced women into signing predatory debt contracts to coerce them into the adult film industry. She had always treated those stories as distant urban legends, something to gossip about, never imagining they would become her reality.
Terror finally took root. As she stared down the barrel of a horrific future, her entire body began to shake uncontrollably.
"Oh? Know how to be afraid now, do you?" Yuko kicked her mockingly. The sharp toe of her shoe buried itself in the girl's soft abdomen, causing Mayuzuki to curl into a pained ball. "Too bad. You're a little late for regrets."
"Yuko..." A flicker of greed danced in the man's eyes. He approached Mayuzuki and crouched down, lifting her chin with a pair of calloused fingers. His gaze wandered lecherously over her frame. "If you want me to make that introduction to the Syndicate, don't I deserve a little... commission first?"
"If you lot break her, will she still fetch a good price?" Yuko frowned, but she took a step back anyway, crossing her arms to watch with cold indifference.
"The Syndicate wants them for films, not for the nunnery," the man retorted. Seeing no further objection from Yuko, he turned back to his two lackeys with a lewd grin. "Don't get impatient. Once I'm done, I'll let you boys have your fill."
The two cronies erupted into cheers.
"Tch, men. Led by their crotches," Yuko muttered. Despite her disdain, she didn't stop them. She stood her ground, waiting to enjoy the spectacle of the blonde girl's impending misery.
Mayuzuki tried to shrink back, but her spine was already pressed against the cold, hard wall. There was nowhere left to run.
"Don't be scared, baby," the man cooed, a sickening smile stretching across his face. "In a minute, I'm gonna take you to heaven..."
He reached out, his hand clawing toward the girl's clothes.
Mayuzuki squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
Just as his fingers brushed her, a sharp knock echoed through the apartment door.
"Who is it?" the man barked, his smile vanishing instantly, replaced by a mask of fury.
"Delivery. Your ramen is here," a voice replied from outside.
"Which one of you ordered ramen?" Yuko turned to the three women.
"Not me," they replied in unison, exchanging confused glances.
The voice from the hallway called out again: "Please come sign for this quickly. The noodles are going to get soggy."
"Go on, get rid of them!" the leader waved dismissively.
One of the lackeys headed for the door, cursing under his breath. The sound of the lock clicking open was followed immediately by a heavy thud—the sound of a body hitting the floor.
Before anyone could react, Hayashi Shuichi burst into the apartment, with Orizaka Midori right on his heels.
"Mayuzuki!" Seeing her friend bound on the floor, Midori's eyes turned crimson with rage. "You bastards!"
With a furious scream, Midori raised her wooden sword and lunged straight for the man with the cigarette.
"Where did this crazy bitch come from?!" The second lackey stepped forward to intercept her. But a split second later, a wooden staff swung by Hayashi Shuichi connected with his skull with a sickening crack. The man went limp and crumpled to the floor instantly.
The leader, being a street thug, had some experience in a scrap, but he was no match for a kendo expert like Midori—especially one fueled by absolute boiling rage.
Midori's wooden sword fell like a torrential rain. Within seconds, the "boss" was reduced to a scurrying mess, his cigarette long gone as he scrambled to protect his head.
"Stop! Stop hitting me!" he wailed, his face twisted in terror.
"W-who are you people?!"
Yuko, seeing how ruthlessly Hayashi Shuichi and his companion were dismantling her crew, began to panic.
"You kidnapped our friend and you're asking who we are?" Hayashi Shuichi let out a cold chuckle. He slowly rolled his wrists, lightly tapping the wooden staff against his palm.
"We—we're women! You're a grown man, have you no shame hitting a woman?" Yuko tried to project confidence, but her trembling legs and the way she backed away betrayed her fear.
"Shame? Why should I feel ashamed?"
Hayashi Shuichi closed the distance step by step, the staff held firm.
"I'm no feudal-minded chauvinist. I'm a firm believer in gender equality! Rest assured, I'll beat you exactly like I'd beat any man. I wouldn't dream of discriminating against you."
Without another word, he swung the staff with a violent whistle, aiming straight for the women.
Outside the apartment, hovering in mid-air on her flying broom, Koizumi Akane watched through the window. As she saw Hayashi Shuichi mercilessly lay into the kidnappers—specifically when the wooden staff connected with a woman's face, sending a spray of blood flying—the witch couldn't help but shiver. She instinctively squeezed her legs together.
Suddenly, her own backside didn't seem to hurt quite so much anymore...
(End of Chapter)
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