Ryuuji's Grand Show

Under the star-studded sky of a moonless night, the DNA operator embarked on her final mission, resolute and aware that she couldn't control Junta's free will or nature. Acknowledging that Junta's issues were beyond resolution, she focused on eliminating Ryuuji as a means to prevent further complications. This daring move, Plan Z, was her last resort in a complex situation spiraling out of her control.

Her destination was the Sugashita's Mansion, a colossal structure hidden away in the outskirts of Tokyo. As she approached, the mansion loomed like a fortress from a bygone era. It was a French-style chateau, built in the last century, an architectural marvel that whispered tales of opulence and power.

The chateau, bathed in the soft glow of antique lamp posts, was a spectacle of grandeur and mystery. Its facade was adorned with intricate carvings and statues that watched over the expansive gardens. The moonlight cast eerie shadows across the sprawling lawns, where ancient trees stood like silent guardians.

With over 100 rooms, the mansion was a labyrinth of luxury and secrets. Its windows, tall and imposing, reflected the night sky, hiding the opulence within. The DNA operator moved through the shadows, her footsteps silent on the gravel path that led to the entrance.

She passed by the swimming pools, their waters still and reflecting the starry night like mirrors to another world. The pools were flanked by marble statues, their expressions serene yet haunting in the moonlight.

Further in, she glimpsed the galleries and museums through the windows, a testament to Ryuuji's wealth and taste for the arts. The walls were lined with priceless paintings and sculptures, each piece a frozen moment of history and creativity.

But it was the dungeon basement that held her attention. The rumors about it were many - some said it was a relic from the past, a reminder of darker times, while others whispered about more sinister uses in the present.

The mansion, with its blend of beauty and intimidation, felt like the final boss stage in a game, a place where the ultimate confrontation was destined to happen.

The night air within the mansion was thick with anticipation as Karin stepped cautiously into the grand hall. It was then that Ryuuji made his dramatic entrance, his appearance as startling as it was unexpected. He was dressed in an ensemble that seemed to be a tribute to the old-school superheroes of the 90s, a peculiar choice that was both theatrical and imposing.

His attire was a striking metallic black, form-fitting and accentuating his muscular physique. The fabric had a subtle sheen to it, catching the dim light of the hall and giving him an otherworldly glow.

A flowing cape, deep crimson in color, draped elegantly from his shoulders. It fluttered behind him with every movement, adding a dramatic flair to his presence.

His mask was perhaps the most striking feature. It was sleek, covering the upper half of his face, leaving his mouth and chin exposed. The mask was jet black with hints of silver outlining his eyes, making them appear more piercing and intense. It lent him an air of mystery, a facade that hid his true intentions.

The ensemble was completed with utility boots and gloves, both practical and stylish, each piece complementing the overall superhero theme. Ryuuji stood there, a self-styled vigilante, an image straight out of an American comic book, yet there was a seriousness in his posture that belied the costume's flamboyance.

Karin, momentarily taken aback by this unexpected sight, quickly regained her composure. She realized that Ryuuji had been anticipating her arrival. His newfound telepathic abilities, acquired from Yuzuru's DNA, had alerted him to her presence.

Karin, without uttering another word, drew her twin guns. The sound of gunfire echoed through the hall, a rapid staccato that shattered the opulent silence. The bullets were real, each one meant to kill, not the DCM bullets she had used before.

But Ryuuji, with his newly acquired telepathy and teleportation abilities, was one step ahead. In a blur of motion, he vanished just as the bullets reached him, reappearing behind Karin.

The AI simulations had prepared Karin for such a move; her armor, equipped with its own set of guns, reacted instantly. A series of shots rang out, targeting Ryuuji's new position.

Karin spun around, guns ready, but Ryuuji was already gone. His laughter echoed around the hall, a taunt that sent shivers down her spine. He was toying with her, using his telepathy to stay one step ahead. Karin realized that her usual tactics wouldn't work against this new, enhanced Ryuuji.

Suddenly, Ryuuji materialized in front of her, mere inches away. Karin's body froze, immobilized by his telepathic prowess. She struggled against the invisible force holding her in place, her mind racing for a solution.

Ryuuji, with a malicious grin, his hand gently tipping her chin upwards. His eyes, filled with scorn, locked onto hers as he spoke, his voice dripping with disdain.

"You're from the future, right? You have good facial features, but I guess because the future elites don't want any more population, women are brainwashed to become masculine, destroying the true femininity and motherhood along the way. Genderless people like you, always want so badly to act like a man, like a warrior, like a protector, like a hero..."

Karin's eyes blazed with anger, her voice sharp and defiant despite her immobilized state. "Get your hand off me!"

Ryuuji's smirk widened, his tone mocking and dismissive. "Tsk tsk tsk... come on you're so full of yourself. You have ZERO attraction to real men like me."

In a show of utter disrespect, he spat on her face a few times, his spit landing coldly on her nose, her lips and her eyes. Then, with a cruel sneer, he began to slap her face, each hit a stinging affirmation of his contempt. He kept going, relentless and unyielding, until his own hand grew tired from the assault.

"Teleportation is fun, but it's not my preferred style in combat," Ryuuji declared, beginning to move his hands in a circular motion. As he did, the surrounding air shimmered with a pulsating energy. Karin, watching in horror, realized Ryuuji was manipulating the very atoms in the air, accelerating their movement in a way she had only known in theory - nuclear fusion.

"You see," Ryuuji explained, his voice a blend of menace and pride, "the Sun, that colossal star at the center of our solar system, derives its power from nuclear fusion. It's a process where atomic nuclei combine under extreme heat and pressure to form a heavier nucleus, releasing vast amounts of energy in the process."

As Ryuuji spoke, a blinding light began to emerge between his hands, intensifying rapidly. "Just like the Sun, I've learned to accelerate atoms, bringing them close enough to overcome their natural repulsion and fuse together. This fusion generates an immense energy, similar to a mini-sun," he continued.

The hall was now bathed in the intense glow from Ryuuji's hands, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. His face, contorted into a triumphant grimace, was lit up by the light of the artificial sun he had created. With a triumphant yell, he unleashed this formidable energy in a devastating blast aimed directly at Karin, demonstrating the fearsome power of nuclear fusion harnessed in human hands.

Karin, still paralyzed by Ryuuji's telepathy, could do nothing but brace for the impact. The energy blast hit her full force, the sound of the explosion reverberating through the mansion.

Her armor and battle suit, designed for combat and defense, melted away under the sheer intensity of the blast.

He had strategically restrained his strength, aiming not to annihilate, but to disarm. Karin, now weaponless, staggered, her defenses stripped away.

Ryuji sneered, "So, you like to fight, huh? Let's make it fair." He released his telepathic grip, freeing Karin.

Regaining control, Karin wasted no time and she lunged at Ryuuji with a flurry of kicks, "SWISH! SWISH!" But Ryuuji was prepared. With a swift turning kick, "WHOOSH!" he intercepted her, striking her shin. "CRACK!" Her leg buckled under the force, snapping painfully, eliciting a sharp cry of agony from Karin.

Grimacing from the pain of the previous attack, she threw a desperate punch at Ryuuji. With a precise karate hand chop, "CHOP!" Ryuuji also intercepted her arm, breaking her elbow. "CRACK!" Her arm went limp, and a scream of pain escaped her lips.

Before she could recover, Ryuuji followed up with a brutal side kick to her chest. "THUD!" The impact was so intense it fractured her ribs. "CRUNCH!" Karin gasped, the breath knocked out of her, her face contorted in excruciating pain.

Ryuuji, concluding the swift and brutal encounter, delivered a final, devastating hook punch. "BAM!" A bloody tooth flew through the air as Karin was knocked out cold, collapsing in a heap. "THUMP!" The force of the blow echoed in the now silent hall, Karin lay motionless, her expression frozen in a grimace of pain and defeat.

Ryuuji, with an evil grin stretching across his face, leaped onto Karin, who lay defeated on the floor. "You want to be a real combatant, my heroine? I'll show you the respect!" he sneered. With a menacing look in his eyes, he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back.

Then, with ruthless efficiency, he began to deliver a series of merciless punches to her face. "BAM! BAM! BAM!" Each blow was calculated and brutal. The first punch landed squarely on her nose with a sickening "CRUNCH!", unmistakably breaking it. Blood spurted out, painting a grim picture.

He didn't stop there. Continuing his relentless assault, Ryuuji pummeled her face, each punch causing more damage. "SMACK! CRACK! THUD!" Karin's mouth took the brunt of the attack, and her teeth began to fall out, one after another, clattering onto the floor with each devastating hit.

Ryuuji's barrage of punches only ceased when Karin was completely motionless, her face a bloody, unrecognizable mess. He stood up, towering over her broken form, his evil grin still in place, satisfied with his ruthless demonstration of "respect."

****

As dawn broke over the city, Ryuuji's meticulously orchestrated event kicked off. The early morning streets, usually quiet and serene, were suddenly abuzz with activity. An impressive fleet of single-deck buses, each emblazoned with "Ryuuji's Grand Show" banners, began their journey, weaving through every corner of the city.

The air was filled with their announcements, not just from the buses themselves but also from the myriad of TV ads that seemed to take over every screen in the city, big and small. The spectacle was impossible to ignore, a city-wide invitation to the grand extravaganza.

The buses were like magnets, drawing in Ryuuji's admirers from all walks of life. Among them were young idols, their faces known from billboards and screen appearances, celebrities with their unmistakable aura of fame, models with their statuesque figures and impeccable style, beauty queens with their regal charm, and singers whose voices had captivated many. These women, known for their beauty and talent, were a dazzling sight, each adding to the glamour of the event. Amongst them were also stunning foreigners, adding an international allure to the gathering, their diverse beauty a testament to Ryuuji's far-reaching appeal.

As the buses rolled in through the gates of the Sugashita mansion, they were greeted by a formidable sight. Lining the entrance were scores of men dressed in sleek black suits, exuding an air of silent authority. These were Ryuuji's bodyguards, a private army of sorts, their stern faces and vigilant eyes scanning the crowd. Their presence was a clear message of the seriousness with which Ryuuji was taking this event. They were the silent sentinels, guarding the festivities and ensuring that the day's events would proceed as planned.

****

As the afternoon sun began to wane, casting a warm, golden hue through the corridor, Tomoko walked with a lightness in her step, her leather briefcase swinging gently in her hand. Humming a soft melody, she seemed absorbed in a world of her own, a faint smile playing on her lips. Despite the recent setback of being suspended from the gymnastics team, her spirits were surprisingly high.

For Tomoko, deep down, gymnastics was never the end-all. Love, especially her budding relationship with Junta, was what truly mattered to her. It was this burgeoning hope in her love life that imbued her with a sense of joy.

Suddenly, a large man in a black suit swiftly approached her from behind. He quickly covered her mouth, silencing her humming with a startled muffle.

Another man, with quick, practiced hands, produced a strip of cloth, tying it around her mouth as an impromptu gag. Simultaneously, he secured her hands with a rope, ensuring she couldn't resist. Her beloved briefcase slipped from her grasp, landing with a soft thud on the corridor floor, its fall unnoticed in the chaos.

In a swift motion, the larger of the two men in black suits stepped forward, his movements betraying an unsettling purpose. With surprising ease, he scooped up Tomoko into his arms, her physically fit and lightweight frame making it almost effortless for him.

With a quick stride, the second man led the way towards the elevator, the larger man carrying Tomoko close behind him.

****

At a serene local park, Ami and Kotomi sat on swings, gently swaying as they chatted about the recent events that had gripped their school and social circles. The park, usually a place of tranquility, now served as the backdrop for a conversation filled with tension and conflict.

Kotomi, her voice tinged with bitterness, vented her frustrations about Tomoko. "She's like a witch," she complained, her words sharp and accusatory. "All the guys just seem to become her mindless puppets. It's like they lose their brains around her." She had given Tomoko this nickname, encapsulating her perception of Tomoko's influence over the boys at school.

She turned to Ami, her expression earnest. "You've been his friend since childhood, Ami. You have to do something to stop Junta from falling under the spell of that evil witch Saeki." Her plea was a mix of desperation and a desire for intervention.

Ami, swinging slowly, her feet dragging on the ground, felt a growing sense of unease. She looked at Kotomi, her expression troubled. "Kotomi, you've changed. This hatred for Saeki Tomoko... it's consuming you," Ami replied, her voice laced with concern.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of a sleek luxury limousine that pulled up near the park. A man dressed in black stepped out, his demeanor professional and urgent. He approached them and handed Ami an invitation card.

"You are cordially invited to Ryuuji's show," he announced. "Junta will be dueling with Ryuuji, and the show is about to start. Your presence is requested immediately."

Ami's heart sank as she processed the information. The thought of Junta, her childhood friend, in a duel with Ryuuji filled her with worry. Kotomi, however, seemed unfazed by the news. "Okay," she said with a determined nod. "I'll call my brother, and we'll go together. This is something we can't miss."

****

In the sprawling grounds of the Sugashita Mansion, a helipad lay bathed in the glow of the setting sun. Ryuuji stood there, a figure of anticipation and calculated calm, as he awaited the arrival of a helicopter. The air was filled with the distant rumble of its approaching blades, a sound that grew steadily louder until the aircraft finally touched down on the helipad.

As the helicopter's rotors slowed, two men in black suits emerged. One of them carried a figure – Tomoko, her hands bound and a gag muffling her protests. They moved with a sense of purpose, escorting her across the helipad towards Ryuuji.

As they reached Ryuuji, the men removed Tomoko's gag, allowing her to speak. Ryuuji opened his arms in a gesture of feigned affection. "I miss you so much, Tomoko," he said, his voice a mixture of longing and possession.

Tomoko, her spirit undimmed despite her predicament, glared at him defiantly. "You're crazy! I've told you many times… just leave me alone!" Her voice was a mix of anger and exasperation, her patience with Ryuuji's obsession clearly at its end.

Unperturbed by her rejection, Ryuuji leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. His tone was soothing yet deluded. "Shhh… you just don't understand, yet. My love for you…is real. Tonight you'll see. I promise."

****

In a room deliberately chilled to near-freezing temperatures within Karin's base, Junta sat in a Zen-like meditation pose, acclimatizing to the biting cold. As he breathed in the icy air, his breath visible in misty puffs, Junta focused inwardly.

In his mind, he visualized the contours of his new super skill, a power interwoven with the essence of the chill around him. The cold, far from being a discomfort, was becoming a part of him, a testament to his growing mastery.

This introspective moment, however, was interrupted as Ryuuji's telepathic voice, piercing and clear, invaded his thoughts, announcing the capture of Karin and Tomoko. The final showdown at Ryuuji's Mansion loomed ahead, promising a test of Junta's newfound, yet unannounced, prowess.

Without hesitation, Junta activated his teleportation ability, materializing at the grand entrance of the Sugashita Mansion. The sight that greeted him was formidable – rows of men in black, their expressions unreadable, their stances unyielding. They led him not through the opulent halls, but downwards, into the bowels of the mansion, to the underground dungeon.

Descending into the depths, Junta found himself in a setting that seemed ripped from the pages of gothic lore or the eerie frames of a game like Castlevania. The dungeon was a labyrinth of cold stone, adorned with grotesque statues that seemed to watch his every move. The air was thick with an ancient chill, and the faint echo of distant, forgotten cries seemed to linger in the shadows.

Finally, Junta emerged into a grand hall, a vast space that exuded both majesty and menace. There, Ryuuji awaited, enthroned like a king in his superhero attire, his posture exuding confidence and a hint of dark triumph. The scene was set for an epic confrontation, a blend of modern-day bravado and medieval grandeur.

Suspended in the air, bound by ropes, was Karin. Her fragile form hung like a marionette, a display of Ryuuji's newfound powers. Without a moment's delay, Junta sprang into action, his movements swift and precise. He rescued Karin, cradling her gently as he carried her to safety. Placing her in a secluded corner, he assessed her condition. Though fragile and immobile, she was conscious, her spirit unbroken despite her physical state.

Karin's eyes met Junta's, filled with both relief and a grave seriousness. "Ryuuji... he's incredibly powerful now," she warned, her voice barely above a whisper. Junta nodded, his expression set in a grim resolve. "I understand," he replied, his voice steady.

And then, the ambiance shifted dramatically with Ryuuji's theatrical clap. The sound echoed through the cavernous space. Slowly, the balcony above began to fill with a sea of faces – over a thousand of Ryuuji's girlfriends, guided in by his stoic bodyguards.

The eerie dungeon, a stark contrast to their glammed-up appearances, initially drew looks of apprehension. However, upon seeing Ryuuji, their expressions transformed into ones of excitement and thrill. The atmosphere turned electric, a bizarre mix of a medieval setting and modern-day fandom.

Ryuuji, basking in the adulation, rose from his throne, his superhero costume catching the dim light, casting him as a character straight out of an American comic book. With a dramatic flair, he turned to the huge painting behind him. With a flourish, a secret door slid open, revealing a hidden chamber. The crowd gasped in unison as Tomoko, bound to a chair, was revealed. Her voice, filled with a mix of relief and concern, cut through the stunned silence, "Momonari-kun!"

Tomoko's eyes locked with Junta's, her usual confidence replaced with a palpable sense of urgency. The sight of her, vulnerable and captive, ignited a fierce determination within Junta.

The audience, a mix of Ryuuji's admirers, watched with bated breath, unaware of the depth of the drama unfolding before them. They were spectators to what they believed was another extravagant spectacle by Ryuuji, not realizing the gravity of the situation.

Ryuuji, standing confidently in front of his captive audience in the grand hall, cleared his throat and began his speech. His voice echoed through the dungeon, a mix of showmanship and sinister intent. "Welcome, my esteemed guests, to the grandest show you've ever witnessed," he began, his arms sweeping across the room.

"Tonight, you are all part of a spectacle that will go down in history."

He paused for effect, his gaze then shifting to Junta. "But first, let's address the rumors swirling around about Junta here," Ryuuji's voice turned cold, his eyes narrowing. "Rumors of him doing outrageous things to our dear Tomoko. Tonight, I shall punish him for his transgressions, right here in front of all of you." The audience murmured, a mix of confusion and excitement brewing among the crowd.

Then, turning to his girlfriends, Ryuuji's tone softened, but his words carried an unexpected weight. "Ladies, I have an announcement. This show, crafted from the depths of my heart, is my farewell to you. Tonight, right here, I am breaking up with all of you. Please, accept this as my parting gift." He bowed deeply, a theatrical gesture that left the audience stunned.

The reaction was immediate and chaotic. Cries of disbelief and pleas echoed across the hall as the women, caught off guard, began to scream and cry, begging Ryuuji not to end their relationships. The scene was a whirlwind of emotion, a cacophony of heartbreak.

Ryuuji then turned to Tomoko, his expression one of twisted sincerity. "See, my love, you said I should be serious about you, that I should leave them all. I've done it now, for you. Everything, all of this, was for you." His voice was a blend of desperation and a twisted sense of triumph.

Tomoko, momentarily speechless, suddenly found her voice. Her response was fierce and unequivocal. "Go F yourself! I'll never go back to you!" Her words cut through the noise, silencing the room for a heartbeat.

In a surge of defiant spirit, she turned her gaze to Junta. "Momonari-kun, defeat him!" she shouted, her voice echoing with a mix of anger and hope.

Ryuuji's face twisted in rage at her rejection and Junta's laughter. Junta, emboldened by Tomoko's support and Ryuuji's evident frustration, taunted him. "You're pathetic, Ryuuji," he said with a chuckle, his confidence evident.

The charged atmosphere in the dungeon thickened as Junta, witnessing Ryuuji's emotionally charged display towards Tomoko, seized the moment.

ZAP! In a flash of speed that left the audience gasping, Junta teleported directly in front of Ryuuji.

Before Ryuuji could react, Junta unleashed a furious barrage: a gut punch that doubled Ryuuji over, a knee to the head that snapped Ryuuji's head back, and a hook punch that rocked him sideways. Finally, a powerful roundhouse kick WHOOSH!

Sending Ryuuji hurtling through the air, crashing into the stone wall of the dungeon with a force that echoed throughout the grand hall.

The audience, initially stunned into silence by Junta's rapid assault, erupted into murmurs and gasps, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and excitement. The spectacle before them was unlike anything they had anticipated.