As soon as Haru stepped out of the car, the lively atmosphere of the district hit him like a wave.
"Sir, this place is a famous red-light district. There are gangsters and thugs everywhere. How about we go sowhere else instead?"
The driver assud Haru was just here for a casual stroll and got out of the car to offer his advice.
"No need. I'm just looking around. You can wait in the car."
"But—"
"That's enough. Just stay put."
Ignoring the driver's concerns, Haru walked straight into the bustling streets.
Under the neon glow, the road shimred like a galaxy, weaving through the crowd. Streetlights illuminated the night as if it were daylight, blending with the vibrant signs of various shops, painting a dazzling picture of the city's nightlife.
His outfit drew a few curious glances, but people quickly lost interest.
After all, seeing soone cosplaying at night wasn't exactly rare here.
Besides, his mismatched outfit was nowhere near as eye-catching as the scantily dressed young won flaunting their curves.
Originally, Haru ca with no concrete plans—if there was an opportunity to farm experience, great. If not, he'd just consider this a scouting mission for the future.
But after wandering for twenty minutes, he stumbled upon a real spectacle.
"Stop hitting him! Please, just stop!"
A group of young thugs was beating up a man on the ground, while a woman in a shoulder-baring top—her exposed skin adorned with floral tattoos—shouted desperately but couldn't do anything to stop them.
They were probably a couple.
Several bystanders stood at a distance, watching but unwilling to intervene—perhaps intimidated by the woman's rather distinctive appearance.
Haru also walked closer to spectate.
Now that he was nearby, he could see that the man being beaten had full-sleeve tattoos on both arms.
For people like him, Haru would usually just mutter a silent "Respect your fate" in his mind, then ntally play the sound of an electronic wooden fish, knocking on it twice when he had the ti.
The gang clearly knew their limits—once the man on the ground stopped resisting and just curled up in defense, they ceased their assault, resorting to verbal abuse instead.
One of them, a red-haired punk, suddenly noticed Haru watching and put on a nacing expression.
"The hell are you staring at? Get lost!"
Haru ignored him.
With his Auto-Aim ability, he could imdiately pinpoint the punk's weak spots and even tell that his sleep schedule was a ss—his sluggish movents and unstable footing made that clear.
"You deaf or sothing? I told you to get lost!"
The red-haired punk was clearly pissed off at being ignored. Feeling confident in his group's numbers, he stord toward Haru .
His buddies just laughed and stayed back, treating it like a joke.
Once he got close, the punk raised his hand for a slap.
Haru took a small step back, easily dodging the incoming palm. Then, he casually lifted his right leg and sent a light kick to the punk's stomach.
The next second, the unfortunate thug was sent flying backward, collapsing to the ground while clutching his abdon, wheezing in pain. He opened his mouth to curse but was in too much agony to get the words out.
His buddies froze, completely unprepared for this outco.
[You are training. (Steel Body) EXP 27.]
[You are in combat. (Martial Arts) EXP 23.]
The EXP gain was small, but there were plenty of EXP dispensers standing in front of him.
So, Haru politely suggested, "I'm in a hurry. How about you all co at together?"
"...Huh?"
The group collectively processed his words with visible confusion.
They had no idea what he ant, but their friend had just been sent flying—there was no way they could just let that slide.
Fuming with anger, they charged at him.
Six in total. Most were unard, though two had their phones raised, apparently intending to use them as makeshift weapons.
So of them actually had knives on them, but they didn't draw them.
After all, these were just low-level thugs. They weren't stupid enough to use weapons recklessly. If things escalated, they'd have the cops on their backs, and worse, they'd have to pay compensation.
And honestly, if they had the money to compensate soone, they wouldn't be small-ti gangsters in the first place.
They ca at him with impressive aggression, but when it ca down to actual fighting?
Not even close.
Haru made quick work of them, effortlessly achieving the legendary "One Punch, One Knockout" feat.
Dodging their attacks was even easier. The [Steel Body] skill had enhanced his reflexes to absurd levels—he could practically see their movents in slow motion.
As he landed blow after blow, experience notifications flooded his vision. Phones, shoes, and keys went flying through the air as the thugs collapsed one by one.
When the last one hit the pavent, Haru turned to check on the red-haired punk.
That guy had already scrambled to his feet and was limping away as fast as he could.
He didn't even try to help his fallen comrades—just bolted like his life depended on it.
A true dical miracle, considering how he was just writhing on the ground a mont ago.
Haru wasn't in a hurry to chase him down. Instead, he turned to the stunned onlookers and said,
"You guys can call the cops. I wouldn't touch the stuff on the ground, though—unless you wanna deal with a two-star wanted level."
With that, he took off after the fleeing redhead.
Once he was gone, the crowd finally snapped out of their daze.
"What the hell did he just say?"
"Have you guys never played GTA? He's talking about getting a wanted level after committing a cri."
"Wait… who is that guy? Do they have beef or sothing? Or is he so kind of comic book hero, cleaning up the streets?"
"I an… look at his outfit. He's dressed exactly like the protagonist from Prototype."
"Oh my god, is he a full-on chuuni? And what's up with that mask?"
"Sit down, everyone. It's ti for a tale of sorrow and justice."
anwhile, after sprinting for a full ten seconds, the red-haired punk was panting hard when a voice suddenly whispered right beside him,
"You should stop running. Save your energy."
Terror surged through him. He turned his head—
And saw Haru running right next to him, keeping pace like it was nothing.
It was like a horror movie. Or worse—like that ti in PUBG when so guy chased him down asking, "Hey man, you wanna buy so cheats?"
Realizing there was no escape, the punk stopped running and, gasping for breath, yanked out a retractable baton from his pocket.
"You bastard, you really wanna pick a fight?"
Haru nodded approvingly.
"Good spirit."
That was about all he could complint.
The punk froze.
Then, thinking about everything that had just happened—the ridiculous power gap, the fact that this guy chose to chase him down—
He gulped.
Slowly, he dropped the baton.
And then—
He dropped to his knees and perford a full dogeza, bowing so low his forehead smacked the pavent.
"Big bro, I was wrong! I'll apologize!"
Haru shook his head. "Blindly surrendering won't do you any good. Pick up the baton."
"...Huh?"
"You heard . Pick it up."
"Co on, man, do we really have that much bad blood? How about I bow a few more tis instead?"
"..."
Faced with the inevitable, the red-haired punk charged forward in desperation—only to be sent flying by another effortless kick from Haru.
With that, he wrapped up his last batch of experience points and left, satisfied.
After that, nothing else eventful happened, so he returned to the car.
The driver, seeing him back, breathed a sigh of relief.
Haru checked his phone—Yukino had replied:
"I was in the shower just now. Everything's going well. Senpai is very determined. I must admit, I'm a little amused."
Haru: "You're finding enjoynt in this? That's a bad habit."
Yukino sent an angry panda sticker in response.
Then another ssage followed:
"My sister brought two boxes of cookies today. I'll bring you one when I visit your place tomorrow."
After exchanging a few more ssages, Haru put down his phone.
As the car passed by a shop in Yukishiro, he caught sight of a familiar figure.
He signaled the driver to stop.
His gaze landed on a young girl struggling with three large bags of trash.
She was clearly having a hard ti carrying them alone, yet she hadn't asked her coworkers for help.
Haru could easily guess why—her high salary probably made her feel the need to prove her worth by handling everything herself.
After a mont of thought, he decided to walk over.
Nanami imdiately noticed him.
Seeing his outfit, her eyes flashed with caution, but she kept her expression polite.
"Can I help you? If you're here to buy sothing, I'm sorry, but we're already closed."
Haru didn't answer. Instead, he simply extended his hand toward her.
Nanami blinked in confusion. It took her a few seconds to realize—he was reaching for the heavy trash bags in her hands.
Just as she was about to say sothing, Haru, unwilling to waste ti, grabbed the bags from her grip with ease.
She was stunned.
"Nanami, what's wrong?"
A female coworker stepped outside, puzzled to see her standing there in a daze.
Nanami turned her head slowly, her face blank.
"Soone just... stole my trash bags."
"???"
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