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Anti-NTR Man: I Save The Main Character From Getting CUCKED!

High-schooler Yuuto Sakurai is not your typical teen. He prides himself on his peculiar mission - to protect the love lives of those threatened by encroaching third parties. When charisma and physical prowess attempt to steal away your beloved, Sakurai leaps into action. For just 10,000 yen, he'll ensure your love story remains untainted. Armed with conviction and a no-discrimination policy, he is the Anti-Netorare Man - a one-man crusade against romantic usurpation. Will he succeed? Or will he be swept away by the emotional undertow of his own quixotic journey? Tune in to find out.

Hazy_0832 · Action
Not enough ratings
79 Chs

Tower Rush, Part 3

Yuuto exclaimed, "Oh my god."

The two boxers' attention snapped to Yuuto, whose voice cut through the air with unexpected vehemence.

Yuuto's eyes blazed with a mix of anger and amusement. "You people... You seriously suck."

A moment of shared confusion passed between the two boxers.

Yuuto continued, his voice dripping with disdain, "Every time you speak, it's like you've sucked so much ass that only shit comes out. Your existence is meaningless. You serve absolutely no purpose. Why not just end it now?" He shouted, his gaze darting between the two.

The first boxer sneered, "Who does this punk think he is?"

The other, impatient, replied, "No idea, but let's shut him up. Can't keep Kyoya waiting."

In a split second, Yuuto was in action. He shrugged off his hoodie, letting it cascade in the air, creating a brief shield between him and the first boxer. Before the boxer could realize it, a hard fist, backed with Yuuto's full force, collided with his face. The sharp crack of a breaking nose echoed, and the man crumpled to the ground.

Knowing a single punch wouldn't incapacitate a seasoned boxer, Yuuto capitalized on the momentum. He leaped, driving the back of the boxer's head into the ground, landing successive punches before the second adversary lunged at him.

Yuuto was sent rolling, pinned beneath the second man, who rained down blows on his face. Blood splattered, painting the scene in shades of crimson.

However, the boxer paused when he noticed something unnerving. Beneath the rain of punches, through the mask of blood and bruises, Yuuto was... grinning. An almost euphoric look painted his battered face, his cheeks flushing with color.

The second boxer recoiled, his face contorted in confusion, "The... fuck...?"

In a moment of fleeting hesitation, the boxer's pause became his undoing. Yuuto seized the chance, fastening his hand onto the man's ballsack with a vice-like grip. The boxer's body crumpled, his attempts to free himself becoming more desperate as Yuuto's grasp tightened.

Through gritted teeth, the boxer groaned, "AaaghHHH!!!!" His eyes darted downward in a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Yuuto's laughter, eerie in its glee, cut through the tension. "Isn't it something? A tiny, insignificant part, not essential for life, yet... it brings you, or really will bring any one of us to our knees." He laughed harder, his face reddening from the sheer force of his amusement. The boxer, in contrast, twitched in agony, each chuckle from Yuuto feeling like a fresh blow.

The manic laughter subsided, replaced by a cold, calculating look. "Funny, how one little part can be your undoing," Yuuto mused. His smile faded further, his grip intensifying. "It's a troublesome thing, isn't it? Even one as small as yours."

Yuuto's voice was low, filled with threat. "Listen well. You're going to spill everything—every word exchanged earlier, everything about 5th Avenue." As Yuuto's fingers threatened further harm, the boxer's pallor deepened.

The boxer's attempts to free himself grew more frantic, his nails clawing desperately at Yuuto's arm. But for every mark, every drop of blood drawn, Yuuto's grip remained unwavering. Each scratch even seemed to amuse him, eliciting giggles.

The boxer's voice cracked in panic, "AAAAH, AHHHH!!!! Alright, alright!!! Just stop... Please... I'll tell you everything."

__________A BIT EARLIER AGO, SENDO________________________

Sendo's chest tightened as he felt the breath of his pursuers hot on his heels. 'Of all da times... fresh out of da hospital, and I have ta sprint like it's da Olympics!'

The narrow streets leading to fifth avenue were a blur. The very second he had stepped out of his elevator, the two menacing boxers emerged from another, triggering a frenzied chase. Turning back to retrieve his bicycle wasn't an option. All he could do was run, using the streets and the unsuspecting crowd as barriers.

Five city blocks, three precious minutes.

Reaching the rooftop of that distant building was Sendo's sole salvation. Yet, his chosen attire, courtesy of his questionable ally, was a beacon for all eyes.

"That guy's a robber!" One of the boxers bellowed behind him. "He attacked my mother with that Kendo sword and tried to rob her! Stop him!"

Draped in a Kendo outfit, paired oddly with a ski mask—Sendo could almost hear the sarcastic applause from Yuuto.

"I ain't a thief, ya fucker! Dis mask protects me from shits like ya'!" Sendo yelled defiantly, his voice strained from the exertion. But the masses, spurred on by the desire to apprehend the so-called 'criminal', seemed to multiply.

With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Sendo hurdled over vehicles, the shattering of windshields echoing his frantic pace. It was as though an entire city had transformed into an army of would-be heroes, all intent on capturing him.

Sendo's laughter, laced with pain and desperation, echoed in his ears as he vaulted obstacles and deftly maneuvered the crowded streets. Each burst of speed further bruised his recovering body. The gleaming blade of his Kendo sword occasionally flashed in the dim light, discouraging those brave enough to come too close. Falling wasn't an option. The weight of his responsibility bore down on him—every step a testament to his determination.

'Can't give up now... Gotta reach dat rooftop. Senpai's depending on me!'

The incessant throbbing in his rib intensified, but the looming building in sight was his beacon. Pushing through the pain, Sendo dashed into the building, hurdling up the stairs. He tossed whatever obstacles he could find behind him—a chair, a potted plant, a mop—to hinder the relentless pursuit. Bursting through the rooftop door, the combined cacophony of the mob below and his own heavy breathing filled the space.

Before him a sight he knows all too well: A group of muscular men that are clearly up to no good, focusing intently on Sendo's sudden intrusion. And there, in the midst of it all, was an unmistakably terrified figure curled protectively into himself. The relentless roar of the ascending mob sparked inspiration in Sendo's mind.

"MUGGERS! DEY'RE HERE!" he bellowed. His voice resonated with such intensity that it seemed to shake the very foundation of the building. As he darted towards the building's edge, the confused gang was caught off guard.

The mob, fueled by righteous indignation, charged into the scene. To them, the tableau was clear: menacing thugs cornering an innocent, all under the watchful eyes of the 'Kendo thief'.

"ARE YOU WITH THAT KENDO GUY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM? ANOTHER ROBBERY?!" an enraged voice from the crowd shouted, capturing the collective sentiment.

The mob swelled, its anger palpable, as they surrounded the bewildered gang, leaving them cornered and overwhelmed, rendering them as vulnerable as their intended victim.

"Wait, wait, everyone! Listen! We were just showing him some boxing techniques. He couldn't afford a gym membership, so we were helping him out right here—"

"LIARS! LOOK AT HIS BRUISES! THEY'RE BEATING HIM UP! LET'S SHOW THESE GOONS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY MESS WITH THE WRONG PEOPLE!" An enraged voice from the mob cut them off, inflaming the passions of the crowd even further. The two boxers, who had been doggedly pursuing Sendo, tried to navigate through the incensed mob, pleading for sanity, but it was too late. Fists began flying.

Seizing the distraction, Sendo quickly shed his conspicuous gear, leaving behind his Kendo sword, ski mask, and the majority of his outfit, now only clad in his pants and a plain white tank top. With the mob's attention fixed on the altercation, he stealthily maneuvered through the chaos to reach the battered man in the center. Grabbing his hand, he pulled him out of the fray.

"Come with me! I'll get ya' tsom'ere safe!" Sendo urged, every breath a sharp stab of pain, amplifying the discomfort from his already injured ribs. The painkillers, sadly, were out of reach at the gym.

Haruto, bewildered and disoriented, glanced over at his rescuer. "Who... Who are you?" He gasped, still trembling from the ordeal.

"It ain't important. I saw ya' was in trouble, and I came ta' help," Sendo responded as they made their way into the stairwell, rapidly descending.

Haruto's eyes widened with a mix of recognition and confusion. "Wait... You saw my message? Are you from that strange online forum?"

Sendo shook his head, pain evident on his face. "No clue about any website. I ain't who ya' messaged, but I'm taking ya' ta' him," he said, clutching his injured side as they continued their escape.

Noticing Sendo's obvious discomfort, Haruto's expression shifted from confusion to concern.

Haruto glanced at Sendo's wounded form, concern evident in his voice. "You're injured...!"

Sendo waved it off, his voice carrying a hint of forced nonchalance. "Oh, dis? It's an old wound, not from today. Just keep movin'."

But Haruto wasn't about to ignore Sendo's clear distress. He halted and firmly grasped Sendo's shoulder, causing the injured boy to instinctively try to continue, his eyes darting ahead.

"We need ta move!" Sendo argued, the urgency clear in his voice.

Ignoring Sendo's protest, Haruto positioned himself beside the injured youth, letting Sendo lean on him for support. "If you're set on helping me, then allow me to do the same," he declared, determination shining in his eyes.

Sendo met his gaze, fatigue evident in his eyes. "...Tokyo Tower is where we need ta be—"

Haruto cut him off. "No. First, a hospital. You need medical attention."

"But dere's someone waitin' for me at da tower," Sendo tried to argue, but his voice lacked the strength of his conviction.

Haruto's tone was firm, almost parental. "You're in no state to go anywhere but a hospital. Trust me." And with that, he flagged down a taxi, easing Sendo into the back seat.

"Nearest hospital, please," Haruto instructed the driver once they were settled.

The driver glanced at the two through the rearview mirror, nodding. "Got it." A brief pause, then he inquired, "Been in a scrape, have you?"

The boys remained silent, both lost in their own thoughts. The driver, catching the cue, merely responded, "Understood," as he steered them to the closest medical facility.

---LATER----

Sendo lay on the hospital bed, the rhythmic hum of fluorescent lights overhead creating a contrast to the deep-blue privacy curtains that surrounded him. He was in pain, and the sedatives coursing through his veins dulled his senses, but not enough to stifle his anxiety.

The curtain rustled, and Haruto appeared, an air of nervous energy about him. "They told me I could visit," he began, casting a glance over Sendo's battered form. "Also mentioned it's your second trip here this week?" His voice wavered into an awkward smile as he took a seat next to the bed.

Sendo's voice was tinged with impatience. "Yeah... Got a phone on ya?"

Instead of answering, Haruto laughed softly. "Aren't we supposed to introduce ourselves formally first? For courtesy's sake?"

"They've already given ya' my name," Sendo replied tersely.

Haruto chuckled, "Right, but isn't skipping formalities considered... bad manners?"

"I'll worry about manners later," Sendo interjected, urgency creeping into his tone. "Need ta contact dat guy. He won't know where ta find me after everything dat happened on da roof—"

His words were cut off as Yuuto, dressed differently and wearing his disguise of a wig and glasses, stepped through the curtains. "Why assume he wouldn't know?" he interrupted.

Sendo's eyes widened in surprise. "Senpai? How did ye—?" His voice trailed off into a grin.

Yuuto pointed to Haruto. "Thanks to him."

Haruto looked up at Yuuto, studying him. "So, you're the one Sendo mentioned?"

Yuuto nodded, a small smirk on his face. "Kind of. I'm Sendo's senior from school. The guy you're talking about contacted me since he was tied up. You can call me Sakurai."

Haruto nodded, "I'm Haruto. If he contacted you, then you must be in the loop."

Yuuto's face became more serious, his grip on Haruto's shoulder reassuring. "I have a rough idea, yes."

Sendo, still in disbelief, interjected, "But Senpai, how'd ya' know where ta find us? Even he wouldn't have known exactly—"

Yuuto continued, "His thought process is not about deducing an exact location, but rather understanding human nature. The heart behind that message wasn't trying to be cryptic for the sake of it. It was the voice of someone desperate, but not wanting to drag anyone down with them."

Haruto's voice was barely above a whisper, filled with both surprise and respect. "Such intuition... Just from reading those lines?"

Yuuto nodded, "Some people have that skill – reading between the lines, catching the undercurrents of emotions and thoughts." Yuuto shamelessly flattered himself.

Sendo chuckled, "Readin' all dat from a few lines and making da right call... Haaah..."

Yuuto smiled, "It wasn't me, remember? It was him. I just relayed his deductions. You both should meet once things calm down."

Haruto blinked, realizing something. "Wait, who exactly is this guy? I've only seen vague details in his website."

Yuuto leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "That's a story for another time. Right now, we focus on getting you both back on your feet."

Haruto let out a light laugh, the weight in the atmosphere dissipating. The three shared a moment of camaraderie, understanding that their paths were intertwined by a string of events that neither could have predicted.

An updated version!

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