Sea Zone

The atmosphere in Sea Zone took a sharp turn as Tomoko began coaxing Junta into a series of daring and outrageous acts beneath their table. The playful mischief, though hidden from most, was not lost on Ichitaka, who had been stealing glances at Tomoko throughout the evening. His fascination peaked, he abandoned all pretenses of disinterest, subtly shifting his chair for a better view of the unfolding scene.

Ichitaka's eyes were fixed on Tomoko; his expression was a mix of excitement and awe. The high school girl's boldness and charm had fully captured his attention, igniting a spark of creative inspiration within him. He imagined the potential of such a character in his screenwriting, her charisma translating perfectly to the small screen.

Iori, already irked by Ichitaka's divided attention, watched in disbelief as he openly ogled Tomoko. Her frustration boiled over into intense envy. "Ichitaka, are you seriously this captivated by a high school girl's antics?" she snapped, her voice laced with indignation. "You're acting like some love-struck teenager, not the professional writer I know."

Ichitaka, still entranced, barely registered Iori's growing agitation. "There's just something about her," he mumbled, almost to himself. "She's got this natural flair, a real star quality."

Iori felt a sting of jealousy sharper than any she had experienced before. Being a celebrated TV idol herself, she couldn't fathom losing the spotlight to a high school girl. "Star quality? She's nothing but a kid playing silly games. I don't see what's so special about her," Iori retorted, her words tinged with envy.

****

Just as Junta was about to confirm the answer to Tomoko's teasing challenge, he suddenly felt a brutal kick to his stomach. The force was so strong it propelled him six feet away from his chair.

The DNA operator, observing from her hidden vantage point, was equally stunned. Her carefully laid plan had just taken an unexpected turn. "Who are these people? Where's Ryuuji?" she wondered in dismay. She had anticipated Ryuuji's arrival to confront Junta, not this abrupt and violent interruption.

Looming over Junta and Tomoko were three towering figures, each easily over six feet tall and weighing around 200 lbs. These were the notorious Tanaka brothers, feared thugs known for their ruthlessness, and they had been hired by Ryuuji.

"Nothing personal, kid. Just business. Sorry, but this is the end for you," declared the one with a striking mohawk, aptly nicknamed Mohawk.

Another thug, identifiable by his blond hair and the distinct cross-shaped scar on his forehead, approached Tomoko with a menacing air. Known as Cross, he snatched away her headband as he sneered, "Got a lot of nerve, asking a guy to look up your skirt in public…"

In a display of raw strength, Cross lifted Tomoko effortlessly with one arm, bellowing, "Let's see it then!"

Before anyone could react, Cross's raw strength was on display as he lifted Tomoko effortlessly. The restaurant gasped as he bellowed, showcasing her recent purchase from Grand Gorgeous 21 - a pair of denim hot pants. His anger at feeling tricked and teased was palpable. In a fit of rage, he hurled Tomoko onto a nearby table, causing it to flip and crash, sending her tumbling to the floor.

From his hidden vantage point on the second-floor balcony, Ryuuji watched, his expression a mix of fury and helplessness. He hadn't anticipated his hired muscle taking things this far.

As Mohawk grabbed Tomoko, threatening to force her into a humiliating display, the atmosphere in Sea Zone turned from one of awe to one of terror. Tomoko's screams for help echoed through the restaurant, reaching a frozen Junta who was quickly overpowered by Skull, the smallest but fastest of the brothers.

"There's a pretty big audience. Service! Service!"

With a steely glint in his eye, Mohawk reached into his gear with a dramatic flourish. "SHINK!" went the sound as he snapped open his army knife, the blade catching the light with a menacing sparkle.

Then, in one lightning-fast motion, "ZZZIIPPP!" the knife sliced through the fabric, the sound cutting through the air. Tomoko's clothing split perfectly down the middle, the precision of his cut undeniable.

Not missing a beat, Mohawk grabbed the shredded fabric. "RRIIIPP!" The sound echoed as he tore the remaining pieces off Tomoko with a powerful yank, leaving her with her tank top and denim shorts in an instant.

Ryuuji, witnessing the scene unfold, clenched his fists in a mix of anger and frustration. "Hey! Those guys... my Tomoko!"

"I can't go up against them now!" he thought to himself, the realization dawning on him that revealing his involvement as the boss behind the scenes would be too risky at this juncture.

Mohawk, in a display of boldness, held Tomoko firmly against his side with one arm, while his other hand began to pull her tank top upwards.

Tomoko, reacting quickly, with both hands grasped the lower end of the tank top, her fingers clutching the fabric tightly. In a desperate bid to keep herself from being exposed in public, she tugged back against Mohawk's pull.

Ryuuji gripped the rail with both hands, his initial frustration giving way to a more calculating, if somewhat unsavory, expression. A sly grin crept across his face, "Wait... I guess, it's kinda lucky I get to see Tomoko's breasts."

Collapsed on the floor amidst the chaos, Junta's voice was a mere whisper, tinged with regret and self-reproach. "I'm sorry Saeki... I can do nothing to save you... I am too weak."

With a sudden surge of strength, Mohawk gave one powerful tug, decisively tipping the balance in his favor. Tomoko's grip, despite her desperate efforts, loosened under the force of his pull. The tank top, the center of their tug-of-war, finally gave way.

Mohawk triumphantly lifted the tank top, a victorious grin spreading across his face. The fabric slid off with ease, leaving Tomoko's breasts exposed!

Tomoko, caught off guard by the sudden shift, could only watch in dismay as her efforts to prevent this outcome fell short.

For a fleeting instant, the audience at Sea Zone became witnesses to a spectacle that felt otherworldly. As the tank top came off, it was as if time itself paused, capturing a moment that felt both surreal and mesmerizing.

The men in the crowd were particularly struck by the view. Their jaws dropped in unison, eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and admirations.

They were greeted by the enchanting sight of Tomoko's breasts, bouncing and bobbing with a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic rhythm. Each breast moved with a graceful fluidity, showcasing an alluring dance of softness and resilience.

Her ample bosom, glistening under the ambient lights, seemed to come alive, their shapes fluidly changing as they arched through the air.

The lively dance of her globes gradually slowed, transitioning from their rhythmic bouncing to a serene stillness. As they came to rest, each sphere transformed into an alluring teardrop shape, displaying perfect, smooth curves that captivated the onlookers. The graceful arcs of Tomoko's bosom were a testament to the beauty of natural forms, each one a delicate balance of fluidity and structure.

The tips of her teardrop-shaped breasts subtly pointed upwards, as if inviting men to suck on them. This slight upward tilt added an element of pride and elegance to their appearance, enhancing the visual spectacle.

The skin was as smooth as silk, the texture so flawless that it seemed almost unreal. Bathed in a soft glow, the globes shimmered with a luminosity reminiscent of moonlight, casting a gentle radiance around them.

Accentuating their ethereal charm, at the tips, her nipples, in the most adorable shade of cherry blossom pink. This delicate hue, a perfect contrast to the smooth white of the spheres, added a touch of whimsy and elegance to their appearance.

The beauty of Tomoko's bosom was so otherworldly, it was like something straight out of an anime fantasy. The men in the audience, utterly enchanted, had their eyes comically transform into giant, shimmering heart shapes. They stood there, gaping, as if they had just been hit with Cupid's most potent arrow.

Drool practically formed at the corners of their mouths, a hilarious testament to their awe-struck admiration. It was as if Tomoko had cast a spell, turning the crowd into a bunch of lovestruck characters in a slapstick comedy.

There, amidst the sea of bewitched onlookers, stood Kotomi. Her relatively flat-chested figure, sculpted from years of gymnastics, seemed almost to stiffen with jealousy. She watched the entrancing display of Tomoko's breasts, but unlike the rest of the heart-eyed, drooling guys, her reaction was a cocktail of envy and disbelief.

****

Ichitaka, now standing by the rail with Iori, was utterly captivated by Tomoko's show. His eyes followed every movement of her perfect body, marveling at her natural beauty to command the room's attention.

Iori, standing beside him, felt a surge of emotions. The sight of her boyfriend so blatantly fixated on another girl, especially a high school teenager, was more than she could bear. Tears began to well up in her eyes, her usual composed and confident demeanor crumbling under the weight of hurt and anger.

"Ichitaka, how can you do this to me?" Iori's voice cracked, her emotions spilling over. "I'm standing right here, and all you can do is stare at her like I don't even exist!"

But Ichitaka, absorbed in the scene below, seemed oblivious to Iori's distress. His thoughts were racing with all kinds of wild fantasies about Saeki Tomoko.

Iori's patience snapped. "You're unbelievable!" she exclaimed, her voice rising above the din of the crowd. "Is this what our relationship means to you?" Tears streamed down her face as she confronted the painful reality that she had lost Ichitaka's attention to a stranger.

Ichitaka, still entranced, barely registered the severity of Iori's emotional state. His fascination with Tomoko overshadowed everything else, including the pain he was causing his lover.

Unable to bear the hurt and humiliation any longer, Iori turned away from Ichitaka, her sobs mingling with the crowd's noise. "I can't do this anymore, Ichitaka. I deserve better than this," she cried out, her voice laced with a mix of sorrow and determination.

With a final look of heartbreak and disappointment, Iori pushed through the crowd, making her way out of the restaurant. Her departure went unnoticed by Ichitaka, who remained transfixed by Tomoko's captivating presence…

****

"WHAM!" The sound echoed as the DNA operator, her plan unraveling, leaped into action with a vengeance. She swung a powerful, lightning-fast punch right at Mohawk, her fist connecting with his nose. "CRACK!" went his nose, breaking under the force of her blow.

But this fight was far from over. Cross and Skull, fueled by anger, turned their aggression towards her. The DNA operator, not missing a beat, shifted into high gear.

"SWISH! BAM! WHOOSH!" Her legs were a blur as she unleashed a barrage of kicks at Cross. Each strike was a deadly dance of precision and power. Cross, caught by surprise, reeled back, "THUD! THUD!" his feet struggling to keep him upright.

Skull, however, was in his element. "ZIP! ZAP!" He moved like a shadow, dodging her onslaught with an uncanny agility. They were in a fierce ballet, the rhythm of their combat echoing through the restaurant.

The DNA operator, her eyes narrowing, launched a high-flying kick, aiming to take Skull down. "WHOOSH!" Her foot cut through the air, aiming for his head. But Skull, ever the agile fighter, ducked in the nick of time, "Swoosh!" his hair just grazing her foot.

Their fight was intense, but the tide turned when Mohawk intervened, his voice booming and full of threat. "Hey, ugly woman! Don't even think about fighting back, or the girl gets it!"

The DNA operator hesitated. With her focus split between the fight and Tomoko's safety, the DNA operator found herself at a disadvantage. Cross, recovering from her initial onslaught, joined Skull in the attack. The two brothers, now working in tandem, unleashed a barrage of coordinated strikes at her.

As the restaurant erupted into a maelstrom of kicks, punches, and shouts, Junta, lying on the floor, heard a voice cut through the cacophony. It was distinct, familiar yet foreign – the voice of his inner self, the Mega-playboy, offering a moment of clarity amidst the chaos.

The voice explained, its tone matter-of-fact yet fascinating, "Not only charisma and appearance, but certain DNA mutations can also endow people with what might be called 'superpowers.' Take the ACTN3 gene mutation, for example. It allows the body to produce a special protein, alpha-actinin-3, enhancing fast-twitch muscle fibers. This is what gives some people exceptional sprinting and weight-lifting abilities."

Junta listened, captivated, as the voice continued, "Then there's the LRP5 gene mutation," the voice added, "responsible for ultra-dense, virtually unbreakable bones. These are just glimpses of the extraordinary potential hidden within our DNA."

As Junta absorbed this information, a surge of determination welled up within him. His desperate wish to save Tomoko and the DNA operator sparked a chain reaction in his body. It was as if his DNA, recognizing the urgency of the situation, began to unlock hidden potentials, responding to his intense desire to act, to protect, to be more than what he had been moments before.

Mohawk, caught up in the heat of the moment, acted with brash decisiveness. With a rough, sudden motion, he ripped the skirt off from Tomoko. The fabric tore away with a loud "RRRIP!" revealing the denim hot pants underneath.

"Now let's see what's under this…" Mohawk, shifted his focus to the denim hot pants. His actions were deliberate, almost theatrical in their boldness. With the tip of his knife "CLICK" he skillfully unbuttoned Tomoko's hot pants.

Tomoko, witnessing this audacious act, felt a surge of panic and dismay. "Sto… Stop! I'm not wearing anything under…" she screamed, her voice laced with desperation and shock. Her plea echoed through the chaos, a stark contrast to the escalating ruckus around them.

With the crowd watching intently, Mohawk continued his bold escapade. His face flushed with excitement, he wielded the knife with the finesse of an artist. The tip of the blade, sharp and precise, hooked onto the zipper of the base layer. With a deliberate motion, he began to unzip it, the sound of the zipper "ZZZRRRPP" slicing through the tense silence.

The crowd, along with Mohawk, was filled with a mix of anticipation and exhilaration. The atmosphere was charged, a collective breath being held as they all waited to see what lay beneath the denim hot pants.

In their collective mind, they had built up an image of Saeki Tomoko as the Goddess of beauty and perfection. The idea that even the most private part of this show girl would match this divine standard drove them wild.

Mohawk's face, now a deep shade of red, reflected his heightened emotions - a blend of eagerness and awe at the prospect of revealing what he imagined to be a masterpiece among "Meiki" hidden underneath.

"Hya! Hya! Hya! No underwear, huh? This is great! Look! You can see everything!"

Then Ami, who had stealthily joined the fray, attempted to aid with a chair…

With a swift motion, she brought the chair down on Mohawk's broad back with all her might. The impact echoed through the restaurant, the sound of wood meeting muscle resonating loudly. However, the chair, no match for Mohawk's hulking frame, shattered upon impact, splinters flying in all directions.

The moment he realized what had happened, a dangerous glint appeared in Mohawk's eyes. He turned slowly, a menacing scowl on his face, and fixed his gaze on Ami. In one swift, fluid movement, he launched a powerful punch, his fist connected squarely with her, sending her flying across the restaurant like a ragdoll.

Kotomi's hands flew to her mouth, her expression one of horror, the intensity of the situation rendering her momentarily frozen.

And that was it! Junta's eyes widened in shock, his body tensing as he saw his friend hurtled through the air.

In the midst of the tumultuous scene at Sea Zone, an extraordinary transformation began to unfold. Junta, who had been engulfed in a whirlwind of fear and helplessness, suddenly became the epicenter of an incredible change. The air around him crackled with an unseen energy, a palpable shift that drew the attention of everyone in the room.

The dormant force within him, awakened with a surge of power that seemed to resonate from his very core. Junta's body tensed, his muscles visibly tightening as the transformation took hold. His spiky hair, previously a dark brown, began to defy gravity, rising even higher. Strands of his hair shimmered and shifted, their color morphing into a vivid pink, reminiscent of the iconic Super Saiyan transformation from the Dragonball Anime series. It was a stunning display, his hair becoming a fiery crown of energy.

As the transformation reached its peak, Junta let out a powerful scream, a primal sound that echoed through the restaurant, reverberating off the walls. The intensity of his cry, fueled by the newfound power within him, was so immense that it sent shockwaves throughout the restaurant.

In an instant, the shockwaves reached the vast fish tanks encircling the restaurant's base floor. The glass, unable to withstand the force, shattered spectacularly, sending a cascade of water and marine life pouring into the dining area. The sound of breaking glass was deafening, adding to the chaos that had enveloped the restaurant.

Water rushed in torrents, swirling around the feet of the patrons and the combatants alike. Fish, once gracefully swimming in their tanks, were now caught in the maelstrom, adding a surreal element to the already unbelievable scene. The once elegant and serene atmosphere of Sea Zone was transformed into a frenetic, waterlogged battleground.

As the restaurant plunged into disarray, with water flooding the area and diners scrambling to higher ground, Junta stood amidst the chaos.

Electricity-like energy crackled around him, enveloping his form in a ferocious aura that was markedly different from his earlier appearances as the glittering Mr. Charisma. His figure was now that of a formidable warrior, radiating not just womanizing charm but also superhuman strength and power.

The DNA operator, observing from a distance, watched with keen interest as Junta underwent this latest transformation. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the changes, her mind racing to analyze and understand the implications of what she was witnessing.

In the midst of the pandemonium, as water swirled around her and chaos reigned, Tomoko's eyes were fixed on Junta. Amidst her fear and the uncertainty of the situation, a different kind of emotion began to take root in her heart. She watched, mesmerized, as Junta stood amidst the wreckage, a figure transformed and radiant with newfound power.

As Junta stood in the midst of the chaos, an air of confidence and power radiating from him, he faced the imposing figures of the Tanaka brothers. Extending three fingers, he issued a stern ultimatum to Mohawk. "Three seconds, let her go and I'll spare your lives." His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of undeniable authority.

The brothers, initially scoffing at Junta's challenge, couldn't mask the sense of apprehension that crept into their laughter. They could sense something had changed, a palpable danger emanating from this new version of Junta.

Cross and Skull, driven by a mixture of disbelief and bravado, launched themselves at Junta. But he moved with such astonishing speed that it seemed as though he vanished into thin air, only to reappear moments later. All the while, Junta calmly counted down, "3…2…1…!"

In a swift, almost imperceptible moment, Mohawk felt a sharp pain in his arm. Startled, he realized Tomoko was no longer in his grasp. Turning around, he saw Junta, holding Tomoko with the ease of a seasoned hero, reminiscent of a scene straight out of an old-fashioned hero movie.

With Tomoko safely in his arms, Junta's concern was palpable as he tenderly inquired if she was hurt. Tomoko, her heart swelling with emotions, shook her head. Her eyes, wide with admiration and burgeoning love, were fixed on Junta. The transformation, his heroic rescue, had kindled something deep within her, a feeling of love and adoration that was overwhelming in its intensity.

Tomoko, clad in just a tank top and hot pants, her emotions laid bare, was an alluring sight. Yet, Junta, despite the temptation she presented and the charm that now defined him, prioritized her safety. Gently setting her down, he urged her and Ami to retreat to the safety of the second floor.

As Junta turned to confront the brothers again, Tomoko, unable to contain her emotions, called out to him, "Momonari-kun!" He responded with a charming look and a reassuring thumbs up, a gesture that sent Tomoko tumbling into the water in a comical, anime-like fashion, her emotions getting the better of her.

Ami, witnessing this exchange, was far less impressed. She had always known Junta as the shy, awkward childhood friend, and this transformation into the Mega-playboy, though heroic, seemed distasteful to her.

As Junta prepared to face the Tanaka brothers, an amusing shift occurred within Sea Zone. The women in the restaurant, previously engulfed in fear and panic, now found themselves irresistibly drawn to Junta's newfound charm. Whispers and giggles filled the air, a stark contrast to the earlier tension, as they watched him with starry eyes.

Up on the balcony, Ryuuji, accustomed to being the one and only Superstar, seethed with jealousy. Seeing Tomoko, the girl he considered his, falling for Junta was the last straw. In a fit of rage, he bellowed at the Tanaka brothers, "I'll pay you double... triple! Kill that guy already!!" His voice, dripping with envy and fury, echoed through the restaurant.

Tomoko, witnessing this exchange, looked up towards Ryuuji. A light of realization flickered in her eyes, piecing together the puzzle of the night's events.

Junta, now ready for a bit of playful heroics, dived into action against the Tanaka brothers. "Swoosh! Swish!" His movements were cat-like in agility, dancer-like in grace, as he navigated the knee-deep water.

Skull, with a grunt, lunged towards Junta. "Whoosh!" But Junta, quick as a flash, sidestepped. "Slip!" Skull's foot hit a sneaky eel, sending him "WOOAAHH!" tumbling into a pile of seaweed with a splash. "SPLOOSH!"

Cross, with a roar of brotherly rage, charged at Junta. "RRROARR!" But Junta, light on his feet, spun around. "Twirl!" With a flick of his leg, he sent Cross spinning "Zing!" right into Mohawk. "BAM!" The two collided in a tangle of limbs and confused fish, "Flap! Flap!"

Mohawk, trying to regain his composure, charged with a scowl. "Grr!" But Junta, with a cheeky grin, kicked up a splash of water. "SPLASH!" Mohawk, blinded by the wave, stumbled back. "Ahh!"

In a lightning-fast move, Junta delivered a sharp kick. "WHACK!" Right to Mohawk's most vulnerable spot, his balls. The sound was unmistakable. "OOF!"

Mohawk's scream pierced the air, "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" high-pitched and echoing.

Seizing the moment, Junta leaped, soaring up. "Whoosh!" He reached an impressive height, defying gravity. Suspended mid-air, he looked every bit the superhero.

Then, descending with precision, Junta's fist was a missile aimed at Mohawk. "SWOOSH! BAM!" His fist connected with Mohawk's face, a thunderous echo marking the end of the encounter. The Mega-playboy's victory was as dramatic as it was decisive.

This finishing move was met with an uproar of cheers and laughter from the audience, especially the women, who were now utterly captivated by Junta's heroic and charismatic persona.