CHAPTER 43: LIFE WON'T LET US GO
The Warehouse Ring.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Yuzuha Li poured the last of her stamina into her fists. Her final punch connected squarely with Ran Tojo's jaw, snapping the boxer's head back. Tojo's eyes rolled into her skull as she went limp.
"Hah... huff..."
Yuzuha was drenched in sweat, her chest heaving violently. She waited until the amateur referee pointed at her, declaring her the winner, before she finally found the strength to climb off her opponent.
"HOOO—RAAAAGH!"
Driven by the professional pride of an underground fighter, she let out a signature victory roar for the crowd, though her voice cracked from dehydration.
The routine followed: a quick patch-up for her cuts, then collecting her "Show Fee" and the winner's purse.
"That was too close... if I'd lost because of a sandwich deficiency, my reputation would have been in the gutter," Yuzuha muttered, clutching her growling stomach. She scanned the crowd, trying to find the man who had coached her through the final round, but he was gone.
"That guy... he sounded like a pro. I've got to thank him if I see him again."
"But first... food!"
Yuzuha hurried to the locker room, changed into her street clothes, and stumbled out into the night like a zombie searching for brains—or rather, ramen.
Two blocks away. Oden Stand.
Ren Shiroki and the woman named Nozomi Tenma sat side-by-side on low stools at a roadside stall. Steam rose from the pot of simmering broth as they picked at a late-night snack.
"Kid, you definitely didn't mean to end up at that match, did you? You into female underground circuits?"
Nozomi chewed on a fishcake, her voice weary. "That place? The promoters call it 'Stray Dog Brawl.' They're the bottom of the barrel. Most nights, the fights are garbage."
"I have no idea how that cheapskate boss managed to book Yuzuha Li and Ran Tojo. Maybe it's because of all the Yakuza drama lately? I'm not 'in the life,' so I don't know the specifics..."
"Anyway, what do you do for a living, Ren-kun?"
As they talked, the conversation flowed naturally. After Ren gave a brief summary of his situation, Nozomi let out a long sigh, giving him a look of deep, sisterly understanding.
"Eh—? So you're a freelance underground fighter with no stable organization? Man, that's rough. You'll never make real money that way."
"Me? Haha... my life isn't exactly a highlight reel either."
Getting into the spirit of the night, Nozomi ordered two large mugs of draft beer.
"I used to be a decent fighter. I was aiming for the pro leagues, but then I got diagnosed with a detached retina. Instant disqualification. I had no choice but to go underground."
"I drifted through a few circuits before landing at Stray Dog. I actually had a good record—three wins, zero losses."
"...I thought the fans would like me."
"But my cheapskate boss said my style was 'too technical.' Not bloody enough. Not enough fanservice. He said the crowd wasn't 'buying the product' and told me to pack my bags!"
Nozomi slammed her mug onto the counter. "What a joke! A win is a win! If people want a show, they should go watch Pro-Wrestling!"
She tilted her head back, chugging half the mug in one go. She let out a loud burp, her cheeks flushing a light pink from the alcohol.
"So—Nozomi Tenma, twenty-six years old, officially a 'Beautiful Unemployed Loser'! Let's drink to freedom!"
"Hahaha..."
Ren found it easy to talk to her. She was a "pro" who understood the world, and she needed to vent. He treated her like a drinking buddy he'd known for years.
"Ren-kun, you're a few years younger than me, right? Just call me Nozomi-chan or something. Let me feel young for a night!"
She slung a drunk arm over Ren's shoulder, grinning. "By the way... why were you wandering the streets alone? It's late. You looking for a 'Soapland'? I know a few places with great service..."
Ren just laughed it off.
As the beer flowed, they traded stories and technical insights from the ring. During the chat, Ren's mind kept circling back to that "Key" he had found during the match.
Disrupting the Rhythm.
"Technical" moves weren't meant to be fight-enders on their own. Their true purpose was to break the opponent's "Song"—to force them out of their comfort zone until your own melody dominated the air.
It was similar to the "Performance" aspect of female combat. If you can make your reality more dominant than your opponent's, you win.
Suddenly, Nozomi's phone buzzed. She answered, laughed into the mic for a minute, and hung up.
"Boss, check please!"
Nozomi paid for the oden and then grabbed Ren's arm, refusing to let him leave.
"Ren-kun, we're hitting it off too well to end the night here! Let's head to the next spot!"
It turned out Nozomi had two friends who had heard she was "newly unemployed" and had just received a severance check. They were demanding she treat them to dinner.
Ren tried to decline, but he was still a bit hungry, and Nozomi was surprisingly persistent. He ended up following her down the street.
Commercial District. Chinese Restaurant.
Ren sat at a circular table with Nozomi and her two friends. The atmosphere was loud and casual, the table already cluttered with beer bottles and plates of gyoza.
Ren liked the vibe. There was something comforting about a group of people sitting around, complaining about their lives and comforting each other. It was... real.
"So, yeah," Nozomi was retelling her tragic unemployment story for the third time, her drunkenness reaching its peak. "I'm a stray dog now! Drink up, girls!"
Nozomi gestured to the two newcomers.
"The one with the ahoge and the shark teeth is Ichika Iori. We've been 'bad influences' on each other since we were kids. She's a Keisatsu—a cop—and she has a terrifying temper."
"She used to be a hotshot detective in the Organized Crime division, but she beat the hell out of a useless superior officer. Now she's been demoted to the Juvenile Division. Basically, she's being frozen out by the department. Now she spends her days doing side-gigs for pocket change."
Ren looked at Ichika. She had a single wild hair sticking up from her head and a literal snaggletooth that made her look like a delinquent. She waved a beer at him with a scowl.
Nozomi pointed to the other woman.
She was wearing an elegant, high-quality kimono and had long, lustrous black hair.
"I'm Hana Mitani," she introduced herself with a polite nod. "Patriarch of the Jinguji-gumi."
Nozomi added, "That's a Yakuza syndicate, by the way."
Hana waved her hand dismissively, blushing slightly. "The Jinguji-gumi is tiny. We're just a satellite branch for a larger family. These days, the Yakuza can't make a cent. Between the anti-gang laws and the economy, we're barely keeping the lights on. Life is hard!"
"..."
"So, there you have it," Nozomi summarized, leaning back. "A broke Yakuza boss, a disgraced cop, and a jobless fighter. Tonight is the official 'Loser Squad' recovery session!"
Hana sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Nozomi-chan, don't be so blunt. You're going to make Shiroki-san uncomfortable..."
Ren shook his head and let out a long, heavy sigh. "Actually... to be honest, I've been having a lot of trouble lately, too."
"See?! See?!" Nozomi cheered, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "Everyone has problems! Life won't let any of us go! Come on, Ren-kun, let it out! What's eating at you?"
"Well," Ren said, leaning back and looking dead serious. "I have ten million yen in cash right now, and I have absolutely no idea how to spend it."
The three women froze.
Six eyes locked onto Ren, widening in slow-motion shock.
"Haha... yeah... life is really... wait, WHAT?!"