Ryuji's Recruitment

The next day, after classes

The rain had long since ceased, leaving the school grounds drenched and slippery under the twilight sky. The remaining students hurried home, their footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. But Ryuji wasn't in a rush. He moved with a quiet purpose, his face set in an expression that could only be described as cold, calculating.

The third-year wing was mostly deserted now, save for a few stragglers who were packing up to leave. Ryuji's gaze locked onto his targets—two senior students who were infamous for their strength and their reputation for pushing around underclassmen.

It was the first time Ryuji had laid eyes on them, but their reputation had preceded them. He knew enough to understand that these were the kind of guys who got what they wanted by any means necessary. The kind of guys who wouldn't take kindly to being told what to do.

But Ryuji didn't care. He wasn't here to ask politely. He was here to make sure they understood one thing: nobody said no to him.

The two third years were heading toward the back of the school, where the older storage rooms were located. The area was isolated, out of sight from the main building—perfect for what Ryuji had in mind. He followed them silently, a wolf stalking its prey, and slipped into the storage room just as the heavy door swung shut behind them with a resonating thud.

It was a dimly lit, cramped space, the air thick with the smell of dust and old wood. The third years didn't notice Ryuji until it was too late. They turned around, their faces twisting from confusion to irritation as they saw the unfamiliar first-year standing before them.

"What the hell do you want, kid?" the taller of the two demanded, his voice rough and filled with disdain. His friend, a wiry guy with a sharp jawline, cracked his knuckles menacingly, clearly unimpressed by the sight of a lone underclassman daring to confront them.

Ryuji didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, as if this were a normal conversation. His eyes, however, were cold, calculating. "I need you both to join the flag football team."

There was a beat of silence before both third years burst into mocking laughter. "You gotta be kidding me," the taller one sneered, stepping forward. He towered over Ryuji, his height and build clearly meant to intimidate. "You think we'd waste our time on some kiddie game?"

Ryuji's expression didn't change. If anything, his gaze grew sharper, more intense. "I wasn't asking."

The shorter one, sensing the shift in Ryuji's tone, moved to intercept. "You don't know who you're messing with, first-year. Get lost before we teach you a lesson."

The taller guy reached out, intending to shove Ryuji out of the room. But the moment his hand touched Ryuji's shoulder, everything changed.

With a speed that caught both third years off guard, Ryuji grabbed the taller one's wrist and twisted it violently. The crack of bones was loud, reverberating through the room, followed by a howl of pain as the third year's knees buckled. Ryuji didn't stop there. He drove his knee into the guy's stomach, then followed up with an elbow to the side of his head. Blood spurted from the taller guy's nose as he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

The shorter third year barely had time to react before Ryuji was on him. A fist collided with his face, sending him staggering back. But Ryuji was relentless. He grabbed the guy by the collar and slammed him into the wall, delivering a brutal series of punches to his torso. The dull thud of fists meeting flesh echoed through the small room, and with each hit, the third year's resistance weakened.

Blood was splattered across the wall and the floor, the metallic scent filling the air. The shorter third year's lip was split, and he was coughing up blood, barely able to keep his feet under him as Ryuji continued his assault. The taller one was still on the ground, clutching his broken wrist, his face twisted in agony.

Ryuji's expression remained icy, detached, as if he were simply going through the motions. But there was a darkness in his eyes—a deep-seated fury that had nothing to do with flag football. This wasn't just about recruiting players. This was about sending a message, about proving a point.

The shorter third year tried to fight back, swinging wildly at Ryuji, but his punches were weak, desperate. Ryuji caught one of the punches and twisted the guy's arm behind his back, forcing him to his knees. He leaned in close, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You think you're tough? You think you can push people around because you're bigger, older?"

He twisted the arm further, drawing another pained cry from the third year. "I've seen guys like you before. You think you're untouchable, that no one can stand up to you. But here's the thing—you're nothing."

Ryuji shoved him forward, sending him crashing to the ground next to his friend. Both third years were now lying on the floor, battered and bleeding, their cocky arrogance shattered. They looked up at Ryuji with a mix of fear and disbelief, realizing for the first time that they were at the mercy of someone far more dangerous than they'd anticipated.

Ryuji crouched down, grabbing the taller one by the hair and forcing him to look up. "You're going to join the team," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "And you're going to do exactly what I tell you to do. Or next time, it won't just be a broken wrist."

The taller third year, his face smeared with blood, could only nod weakly. The shorter one, clutching his side in pain, followed suit, knowing they had no choice but to submit.

Ryuji released them, standing up and wiping the blood off his knuckles with a grimace of disgust. "Good," he said, his tone almost pleasant now. "I'll be expecting your applications by tomorrow."

He turned on his heel and walked to the door, pausing just before he left to glance back at the two broken figures on the ground. "And don't even think about backing out. I'll be watching."

The door creaked shut behind him, leaving the third years in stunned silence. Ryuji's footsteps echoed down the empty corridor as he made his way back to the club room, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. This wasn't just about getting two more players. It was about control, about establishing his dominance. The team needed to win, and Ryuji would make sure they had everything they needed—even if it meant breaking a few bones along the way.

Recruiting wasn't so hard after all.