Prospect of A Brawl

"I redirected the flow of power in your body. Here's a tip: if you're completely focused on nothing but smashing your opponent's skull in, you'll walk right into their traps," he said, keeping the man locked in place with his redirection technique, "...Now, what was that about this ticket not being for you?"

"Grrh!...I won't tell you a damn thing!" Kinro spat out.

"That's unfortunate," he said.

With a simple squeeze of the man's wrist, he reeled in an agonized scream from the uncomfortable hold.

"You're a boxer, right? Well, if I pull with enough force, both of the tendons in your wrist will snap," he told the man, "and if they snap, you'll be unable to bend your wrist. I don't have to tell you what that'll mean for being able to control your first, or throw a good punch for that matter."

He didn't actually plan on crippling the wrist of the boxer, but he did want to gather what information he could. While the man did certainly hold malicious intentions towards him, they were so woefully inefficient in carrying said intentions out that he hardly felt the need to punish them.

Come on, spill it out, he thought.

"--"

"What'll it be?" He said.

As he twisted just a bit more, spurring further sweat from the man and a reddened complexion of strain, Kinro gave in:

"...It was Takehiro! He put us up to this!" Kinro admitted.

"'Takehiro'?" He repeated.

Kinro nodded adamantly, "H-he was going to let us into his gang if we got the ticket for him!"

"Gang? Who is this 'Takehiro'?" He asked.

"...He's the leader of the most notorious biker gang in Osaka, man! "Elysium"...They're dangerous!" Kinro spilled more information.

Finally, he let go of the man's wrist, who caressed his strained skin, blowing on it and huffing out while covered in sweat.

He picked up his milk jugs, stepping over the snoring, burly man that was knocked out previously.

"Hey! You might've stopped us, but Elysium is still after you! I'll admit you're strong, but Takehiro is a monster!" Kinro shouted from behind.

Stopping, he smiled a bit before glancing back at the man, "Is that so? Then tell him to meet me, then. I'll make it easy for him."

"Huh…? Are you suicidal or somethin', kid?" Kinro said.

"The abandoned warehouse by the train station. Tonight," he said, "If this guy of yours doesn't show, he's going to miss his one shot at my ticket here."

As he left, dumbfounding the thug with his proposition, it felt to him as if Christmas night was on the horizon.

The prospect of this monstrous gang leader and his group of thugs, for the one who lived for combat, was as great a gift as any.

–

Stumbling over, Kinro lightly shook his snoring companion after the golden-eyed young man had left.

"Roji…Hey, Roji," Kinro called his name softly.

The snoring stopped as the red-haired, beefy man blinked a few times, "...Kinro? Did we lose?"

As the broad-chinned Roji sat up, he cracked his own neck with audible sounds of his bones being relieved.

Kinro laughed softly, still holding his wrist as he sat beside the large man, who had two, large tears in his shirt with a duo of painful bruises.

"We got trampled," Kinro told him with a smile.

"...Damn," Roji sighed.

Kinro looked forward, "I'm glad you're at least okay. That kid could've done much worse to us."

"I haven't been beaten this bad since we met 'him'," Roji sat up.

"It's not a fun experience," Kinro said, "but we've had our fair share of losses…but, yeah. 'He' certainly trampled us the worst."

Reaching into his pocket, the blonde-haired man began dialing a number while Roji looked at him, yawning from his impromptu slumber.

"Are ya' calling 'him'?" Roji asked.

Kinro nodded with a smile, "...We might've failed, but let's leave this in the hands of the "Devil of Osaka"...Takehiro."

–

Returning to the cafe, though a bit later than he had hoped, he gave the milk that Mr. Genji requested.

"Ah, wonderful. Thank you again, Touma," Mr. Genji said with a sigh of relief.

With the amount of customers in-and-out of the humble, furnished cafe, it was clear that the kind owner was under stress of not being able to serve the patrons of the establishment.

"How much did it cost?" Mr. Genji asked.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

"It's only fair that I–" Mr. Genji tried to persuade him.

He shook his head, "Just consider it thanks for letting me off my shifts earlier than usual lately."

Mr. Genji seemed reluctant not to pay him, but the wizened old man nodded with a gentle smile, "Of course, Touma."

As he began heading up the stairs to the second floor, Mr. Genji called out from the first floor:

"Oh, would you mind feeding Taro?"

He shouted back down from the stairs, "Sure thing!"

As he reached the second story, he went into the dusty pantry to retrieve a bright-orange package of cat food, hoisting it over and pouring it into the paw-decorated dish that sat in the hallway.

With the sound of the nutritional pebbles pouring it from the bag, the fluffy, gray-furred feline showed himself as his little bell jingled.

"Yo, Taro," he knelt down, petting the cat.

"Mrow."

Taro was a scottish fold, and quite the affable feline, at that. The gray-furred cat usually slept in his bed while he was gone, keeping it warm for him by the time he would check in.

Mr. Genji has always been good to me. He gave me a place when I had no other. Without him, I'd be on the streets…I'd probably be a much worse person. Frankly, I owe my life to him, he thought.

Going into his room, he sat on his bed while looking up the names given to him by the thugs from earlier: the "Elysium biker gang" and their leader, Takehiro.

"...It doesn't seem like they're that dangerous. Seems more like they fight with other gangs more than harass people," he mumbled.

Scrolling through, he could hardly find any information on the leader of the gang himself, but he did come across something else:

"Huh?"

It was an article written by a blog called the "Anarchy Times", which seemed to focus around the ongoings of gangs around Japan.

[Elysium, 100 members strong, defeats Hell's Angels of 500 members.]

That headliner got his blood pumping, realizing it wasn't just smoke being blown with the existence of "Takehiro."

This might be interesting, he thought.