"Eu," I said, looking over my shoulder at the silver-haired necromancer. "Go upstairs. Right now."
She looked at me, her blue eyes sharp. She didn't write anything on her pad. She could hear the shift in my tone. She stood up from her stool, gave me a firm nod, and quickly walked up the stairs to the second floor.
I turned back to face the front doors of Café Sunrise.
Three hostile targets, my [Danger Sense] hummed in the back of my mind. But they don't feel like Fallen Angels. They don't have that heavy, suffocating magical pressure. They just feel... angry.
BAM!
The front doors didn't just open; they were kicked inward with brutal force. The glass rattled violently in the frames.
Three men stomped into the cafe. They weren't wearing the sharp, clean suits of Chitoge's bodyguards. These guys were wearing cheap, flashy suits with unbuttoned silk shirts underneath. Tattoos peaked out from their collars. One guy had a bleached pompadour, another had a nasty scar across his nose, and the guy in the middle—the obvious leader—was chewing on a toothpick with a scowl that screamed 'bad news'.
Yakuza.
"Ard Voldigoad!" the leader barked, pointing a thick finger at me. "We know you're in here! The hide-and-seek game is over, kid!"
I just stood behind the counter, my arms crossed. "We're closed. Read the sign."
"Don't get smart with me, you little punk!" The guy with the scar pulled a metal baseball bat out from behind his back and smashed it against one of my clean tables. CRACK! "Your deadbeat parents owe our boss a massive mountain of cash! They skipped town, which means the debt falls on you! Pay up, right now, or we're going to break every bone in your body and sell this cafe for scrap!"
I looked at the dented table. I had just polished that table.
I looked back up at the three thugs.
And then, a thought hit me. A brilliant, shining, incredibly obvious realization that made me want to laugh out loud.
Wait a minute, I thought to myself. Why the hell am I scared of these guys?
Before the System, before I got isekaied into the sub-dimensional tutorial, I would have been terrified. I would have emptied the cash register and begged for my life.
But now? I was the guy who could summon a sword out of thin air. I was the guy who punched a magical girl through three solid walls. I was the guy who fought a Fallen Angel and lived to tell the tale.
These guys were just regular human beings with bad haircuts and metal sticks.
"You know," I said slowly, stepping out from behind the counter. "For a long time, I stressed out about that debt. I really did. My parents were terrible, they left me with nothing, and I thought I was going to be paying you guys off for the rest of my life."
"That's right!" the leader sneered, cracking his knuckles. "So open the register!"
"But here's the thing," I continued, ignoring him completely. I cracked my neck, letting out a loud pop. "I just realized something. I'm stronger than you. I'm faster than you. So... why should I pay you a single dime?"
The three Yakuza froze. They looked at me, then looked at each other, and then burst out laughing.
"Oh, the kid thinks he's a tough guy!" the pompadour guy cackled, pulling out a butterfly knife and flipping it open. "Let's teach him a lesson, boys!"
They rushed me all at once.
It was almost pathetic. To my eyes, they were moving in slow motion.
The scar-faced guy swung his baseball bat at my ribs. I didn't even use my enhancement skills. I just took half a step back, letting the bat whistle harmlessly through the air inches from my chest. I reached out, grabbed the wooden handle of the bat, and yanked it completely out of his hands.
"Hey, give that back!" he yelled.
"No," I replied smoothly.
I tossed the bat aside. Before he could react, I activated [Hard Fist]. Just a fraction of its power, barely enough to make my knuckles glow. I drove a quick jab right into his stomach.
WHAM!
The guy folded like a cheap lawn chair. His eyes bulged out of his head, all the air rushing out of his lungs in a massive wheeze, and he collapsed onto the floor, drooling.
"What the—?!" the leader gasped.
The guy with the knife lunged at me, thrusting the blade toward my shoulder. I leaned slightly to the left. The knife missed. I reached up, grabbed his wrist, and squeezed.
I heard a distinct crack. He screamed, dropping the knife instantly. I followed up with a sweeping kick that took his legs completely out from under him, sending him crashing onto his back so hard the floorboards shook.
Two down in less than five seconds.
I turned to the leader. He spit out his toothpick, looking absolutely terrified. But to my surprise, he didn't run. He actually gritted his teeth, pulled out brass knuckles, and slipped them onto his hands.
"I'm not leaving without that money!" he roared, charging at me with a wild, desperate haymaker. "We can't fail the Boss! We need the cash!"
I easily ducked under his wild swing. "You have a terrible business model!"
I grabbed him by the collar of his cheap suit, spun around, and used his own momentum to throw him right over my hip. He slammed into the floor face-first, right next to his buddies.
I brushed off my hands, feeling incredibly satisfied. "Well. That was much easier than fighting monsters."
But the crazy part? They weren't done.
The leader groaned, spitting blood onto my clean floor. He actually tried to push himself up on shaking arms. "No... please... the Boss... he needs it... we have to get the money..."
"Stay down, man," I sighed. "You're embarrassing yourself."
"You don't understand!" the pompadour guy wheezed, clutching his broken wrist. "We can't go back empty-handed! We just can't!"
They were ridiculously tenacious. It wasn't just typical gangster pride. They looked genuinely desperate. Like they were fighting for their lives over a few thousand yen.
But I didn't have time to play therapist. I had a cafe to clean and an impending transmigration to prepare for.
I stepped forward and delivered three swift, precise chops to the backs of their necks. One, two, three. They all went completely limp, knocked out cold on my floor.
"Idiots," I muttered, shaking my head.
I dragged them outside, tossing them into the alleyway next to the cafe like sacks of garbage. I locked the front door, flipped the sign to 'Closed' for the rest of the day, and started cleaning up the mess.
But as I swept up the dirt they tracked in, my mind kept turning.
We can't go back empty-handed. We need the cash. Yakuza are greedy, sure. But these guys fought like they were desperate. And worse, they knew where I lived. If I went into the sub-dimensional world in two days, who was going to stop them from coming back while I was gone? Eucliwood could easily kill them, but I didn't want her dealing with human trash.
I needed to cut the head off the snake.
I looked up at the clock. It was getting late.
"Alright," I decided. "Tonight, I'm making a house call."
By midnight, the town was dead silent.
I made sure Eucliwood was fast asleep in her room. I slipped on my black tactical leather jacket, laced up my boots, and stepped out into the cool night air.
"System," I whispered. "Activate [Mapping]."
A semi-transparent blue grid appeared in my vision, overlaying the streets of Kuoh Town. When I first got this skill, it was just for the tutorial forest, but it adapted to the real world perfectly. I mentally searched for the local Yakuza syndicate. A red waypoint pinged on the map, located in a wealthy, secluded district on the edge of town.
"Next. Activate [Low Prescence]."
There was a funny thing about skills like mapping and low prescence, they didn't require MP to be used. And their functions change a little in this word.
A strange, shadowy film seemed to wash over my body. To anyone looking, I would just blend into the background like a stray shadow. It was the perfect infiltration tool.
I took off running. I didn't hold back. I let my superhuman speed carry me across the rooftops, leaping from building to building under the pale moonlight. It felt incredible. The wind whipped through my hair, and the city lights blurred beneath me.
In less than ten minutes, I reached the waypoint.
It was a massive, traditional Japanese estate hidden behind high stone walls. It looked like a samurai fortress slapped right in the middle of a modern city. Security cameras swept the perimeter, and tough-looking guys in suits patrolled the front gates with flashlights.
They definitely have money, I thought, crouching on a telephone pole overlooking the estate. So why are they hounding me for my parents' cheap debt?
I dropped down from the pole, landing silently on the top of the stone wall. The [Low Prescence] skill was working perfectly. A guard walked right past me below, shining his flashlight against the stone, completely unaware that I was standing two feet above his head.
I jumped down into the main courtyard. It was a beautiful zen garden with a koi pond and manicured bonsai trees.
"Hey! Who's there?!" a voice shouted from the porch.
So much for sneaking the whole way. A group of four guards drew batons and rushed off the wooden porch, charging toward me.
"Activate [Enhanced Leg Strength]," I muttered.
I didn't wait for them. I blasted forward, crossing the courtyard in a fraction of a second. I bypassed the first guy completely, sweeping the legs out from the second guy, grabbing the third guy by the shirt and throwing him directly into the koi pond with a massive splash.
The last guard swung his baton. I caught it with my bare hand, the metal bending slightly under my grip. I looked him dead in the eye, gave him my scariest delinquent glare, and flicked him in the forehead.
He fell over backward, out cold.
"I really need to start getting paid for this," I sighed, stepping onto the wooden porch and sliding the screen door open.
[Inside the Main Estate - Boss Kuroda's POV]
Kuroda rubbed his temples, staring down at the low wooden table. His tea had gone completely cold.
He was a large man, broad-shouldered with a chest full of traditional irezumi tattoos hidden beneath his dark kimono. He had built this syndicate from the ground up, demanding respect and instilling fear across the city.
But right now, he didn't feel like a boss. He felt like a helpless, desperate man.
"Boss," his right-hand man, Kenji, said softly, kneeling on the tatami mat across from him. "The debt collection team hasn't reported in. We haven't received the cash from the Voldigoad boy."
Kuroda slammed his fist on the table. The teacups rattled.
"We need that money, Kenji!" Kuroda growled, his voice thick with stress. "The underground broker called an hour ago! He raised the price of the medicine again. If we don't pay him by tomorrow morning, he cuts off our supply!"
Kenji lowered his head. "I know, Boss. But the broker is squeezing us dry. We've emptied our vaults. We're calling in every minor debt we have just to make the payments."
Kuroda closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. "I don't care about the money. I don't care about the pride of the family right now. My daughter... she needs that medicine. The doctors at the hospital said there's nothing they can do for her disease. The underground channel is the only thing keeping her alive!"
"We will get the money, Boss," Kenji promised furiously. "I'll send a larger team to the boy's cafe. We'll tear the place apart if we have to—"
BOOOOOOOM!
The heavy wooden sliding doors of the meeting room didn't just open. They completely exploded off their tracks, splintering into dozens of pieces and crashing violently onto the tatami mats.
Kuroda jumped to his feet, ripping a sharp katana from the stand next to his table. Kenji drew a pistol, aiming it at the cloud of dust filling the doorway.
The dust slowly settled, revealing a teenager.
He was wearing a black leather jacket, hands casually stuffed into his pockets. He stepped over the broken doors, looking completely unimpressed by the luxurious room.
"You guys have a really terrible collection agency," the kid said, his voice echoing in the silent room.
"You!" Kenji shouted, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Ard Voldigoad! You dare walk into our headquarters?!"
"Yeah, I do," Ard replied smoothly. "And put the toy gun away before you hurt yourself."
"Kill him!" Kuroda roared, letting his stress and anger take over.
Kenji fired. BANG!
The kid didn't even flinch. He didn't dive for cover. He just tilted his head a fraction of an inch. The bullet whizzed past his ear, embedding itself harmlessly into the wall behind him.
Before Kenji could blink, Ard crossed the room. He didn't look like he was running; it looked like he just teleported. He slapped the gun out of Kenji's hand with enough force to shatter the slide, grabbed the right-hand man by the lapels, and threw him effortlessly across the room. Kenji slammed into a wooden pillar and slumped to the floor, groaning.
Kuroda roared, gripping his katana with both hands. He lunged forward, putting all of his weight and years of training into a massive, downward strike aimed right at the boy's shoulder.
Ard simply raised his hand.
CLANG!
Kuroda's eyes widened in absolute, soul-crushing horror.
The boy had caught the razor-sharp blade of the katana between his thumb and index finger. The steel was stopped dead in its tracks. Kuroda pushed with all his might, his boots digging into the tatami mats, but the blade wouldn't budge a single millimeter.
"A sword is a weapon of respect," Ard said coldly, his eyes piercing right through Kuroda. "You don't deserve to hold it."
Ard twisted his wrist.
SNAP.
The steel blade shattered like cheap glass. Kuroda stumbled backward, holding a broken hilt, completely paralyzed by fear. He was a veteran Yakuza boss, but standing in front of this teenager, he felt like a tiny, helpless mouse staring down a dragon.
"Now," Ard said, taking a step forward. "We're going to talk about my parents' debt, and why your men are never going to step foot in my cafe ever again—"
"Daddy...?"
The small, weak voice stopped everything.
Ard froze. Kuroda whipped his head around.
The sliding door leading to the inner hallway had been pulled open. Standing there, clutching a small stuffed bear, was a little girl. She couldn't have been older than five. She was wearing pink pajamas adorned with little bunnies.
But she looked terrible. Her face was frighteningly pale, her cheeks flushed with an unnatural, sickly red fever. She was sweating profusely, and every breath she took sounded like a painful, rattling wheeze.
"Aiko!" Kuroda yelled, instantly dropping the broken sword. He rushed over to her, falling to his knees. His terrifying Yakuza boss persona vanished in a heartbeat, replaced entirely by a panicked, desperate father. "Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? Daddy's just... Daddy's just having a meeting."
Aiko looked at the broken doors. She looked at Kenji groaning on the floor. And then she looked at Ard, her small eyes widening with fear.
"Daddy... is that a bad man?" she coughed violently, her small frame shaking with the effort. "Are you... are you okay?"
Kuroda pulled her into his arms, shielding her from Ard. He turned his head, tears instantly welling up in his fierce eyes.
"Please!" Kuroda begged, his voice cracking. He wasn't giving an order; he was pleading for his life. "Please, whatever you want, I'll give it to you! I'll wipe the debt! I'll give you the estate! Just... please don't hurt my daughter! She's sick! She's so sick!"
Ard just stood there, staring at the little girl. The cold, dangerous aura surrounding him vanished completely.
Suddenly, Aiko gasped. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her stuffed bear dropped to the floor as her small body went completely limp in her father's arms.
"Aiko?! Aiko! No, no, no! Sweetheart, wake up!" Kuroda screamed in absolute terror, shaking her gently. Her skin was burning up.
Kenji, who had just regained consciousness, dragged himself across the floor in a panic. "The medicine! Boss, we don't have the medicine!"
They were completely losing their minds. A father watching his entire world slip away.
"Move," a calm, firm voice commanded.
Kuroda looked up. Ard was standing right next to him.
"Don't touch her!" Kuroda cried, trying to pull her away.
"I said move, idiot. I'm not going to hurt her," Ard growled, dropping to his knees. "I'm going to save her."
Ard placed his right hand directly on Aiko's burning forehead.
"System," Ard muttered under his breath. "Activate [Healing Magic]."
A soft, warm green light glowed from Ard's palm, washing over the little girl's face. Kuroda and Kenji gasped, falling back in shock as the magical aura filled the room.
Ard frowned. "My healing magic is too low-level to cure the disease completely. It's only cooling the fever." He pulled his hand back, and immediately, Aiko's breathing started to slow down, her chest struggling to rise.
"It's not enough!" Kuroda panicked.
"Shut up, I'm working on it!" Ard snapped. He stared at the empty space in front of him. "System. Open [Online Grocery]."
A blue screen materialized, showing a digital storefront filled with thousands of items. Ard's fingers moved like lightning, scrolling through the sub-dimensional categories.
"Potions... Elixirs... Panaceas... There! 'High-Grade Elixir of Purification.' Cures all human ailments and viral infections. Cost: 5,000 System Gold. Worth every penny."
It took me a while but another thing I found different when I leveled up was my options in the online grocery, what was once limited to regular earth stuff you could buy online, updated to reveal even fantasy world items. And the conversion of Yen into gold was 1 for 1 so there was no confusion when spending.
Ard pressed a button in the air. A small, glowing glass vial filled with golden liquid materialized directly into his hand.
"What... what is that?" Kenji whispered, his jaw hitting the floor.
"The cure," Ard said simply.
He gently tilted Aiko's head back, uncorked the vial, and poured the golden liquid into her mouth. He rubbed her throat gently, making sure she swallowed it all.
For three terrifying seconds, nothing happened. The room was dead silent except for the rattling of the broken doors in the wind outside.
And then... a miracle happened.
The bright, sickly red flush vanished from Aiko's cheeks. Her pale skin returned to a healthy, natural tone. The sweat stopped pouring from her forehead. The terrible, rattling wheeze vanished entirely.
She took a deep, clean, perfectly healthy breath.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes. She looked up at Kuroda and smiled.
"Daddy?" she whispered, her voice clear and sweet. "It... it doesn't hurt anymore. The pain in my chest is gone."
Kuroda let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. He pulled her into a massive, crushing hug, burying his face in her shoulder as tears streamed down his tattooed cheeks. "Aiko! Oh, thank god! Thank you, thank you!"
Kenji was openly weeping on the floor, pressing his forehead against the tatami mat.
Ard stood up slowly, dusting off his jeans. He looked at the empty vial in his hand and tossed it into his [Item Box].
"There. The disease is gone completely," Ard said, putting his hands back in his pockets. "She won't ever need that shady underground medicine again. You can keep your money. And my parents' debt is officially canceled. We're even."
He turned to leave. He had accomplished his goal. He could finally go home and sleep.
"Wait!"
Ard stopped, looking back over his shoulder.
Kuroda had gently set Aiko down on the mat. The massive, terrifying Yakuza boss turned toward Ard. He dropped to his knees. He placed his hands flat on the floor, and slammed his forehead against the tatami mat so hard the floorboards echoed.
Dogeza. The absolute highest form of Japanese submission and apology.
Kenji instantly dragged himself over and did the exact same thing, slamming his head into the floor right next to his boss.
"You saved my daughter's life!" Kuroda shouted to the floor, his voice booming with absolute conviction. "You have performed a miracle that all the money in the world could not buy! Our disrespect toward you was unforgivable!"
"Hey, guys, really, it's fine, you don't have to—" Ard started, waving his hands awkwardly.
"NO!" Kuroda interrupted, raising his head. His eyes were burning with a terrifyingly intense fire of loyalty. "From this day forward, my life belongs to you! The Kuroda Syndicate belongs to you! We will abandon our wicked ways! We will help the poor! We will clean the streets! We will right all the wrongs we have committed, all in your name!"
"Wait, what?!" Ard sputtered, taking a step back.
"WE PLEDGE OUR ETERNAL LOYALTY TO YOU, BOSS ARD!" Kuroda and Kenji roared in perfect unison, slamming their heads back onto the floor.
Outside in the courtyard, the guards who had just woken up from being knocked out rushed to the porch. They saw their terrifying Boss doing a dogeza to a teenager. Without skipping a beat, all twenty heavily armed Yakuza thugs dropped to their knees on the wooden porch and slammed their heads down.
"WE PLEDGE OUR LOYALTY, BOSS!" the entire compound shouted, the sound echoing into the night sky.
Ard stood in the middle of the room, completely frozen. He looked at the weeping right-hand man. He looked at the terrifying Yakuza boss swearing fealty. He looked at the twenty thugs bowing outside. He looked at the little girl who was now happily hugging her teddy bear.
He gripped his hair with both hands, his eyes wide with absolute, horrified disbelief.
"HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!" Ard screamed at the ceiling.
He just wanted to run a cafe. Now he was the Godfather.
Look what they did to my boy, they massacred my boy.