Shiro Sakamaki looked at the thugs blocking his path and couldn't help but laugh. He didn't even know the na of the guy leading them.
He glanced around casually. "No one else hiding back there, right?"
"Huh?" The thug blinked, confused, then grinned. "You think soone's coming to save you? This place is deserted. No one cos by here."
"Don't worry," he continued with a smug tone, "I'll just break one of your legs today. That should be enough to teach you so humility."
Shiro exhaled calmly. "Good. That ans I won't have to waste ti dealing with this again."
"What did you just say?" The leader frowned, a sense of unease creeping in.
Shiro carefully tied up his manuscript pages and set them aside so they wouldn't get scattered in the coming chaos.
"I said," he replied with a cold smile, "you trash really think you can intimidate ?"
The thug didn't even have ti to react before Shiro launched a powerful kick. The massive Yakuza mber—easily over 200 pounds—was lifted clean off the ground and slamd into the warehouse wall like a ragdoll.
"Bastard! He struck first! Take him down!"
The thug leader began backing away instinctively, sweat beading on his forehead. The power of that kick was terrifying. If it had hit him, he'd probably never walk again.
Another mber—this one decked out in flashy chains and dyed hair—charged at Shiro, fist swinging.
Shiro didn't dodge. He sneered and countered with his own punch.
Crack!
A sharp, sickening snap rang out as the thug's arm bent the wrong way. Bone pierced through flesh at the elbow, blood splattering across the floor.
The man collapsed, screaming and writhing in agony.
The rest froze. Two down in seconds—without Shiro breaking a sweat.
As Shiro stepped forward, the remaining attackers stumbled back, fear written all over their faces.
"You still want to fight?"
They shook their heads frantically like frightened animals.
"Then scram."
"Y-Yes! We're leaving now!"
"T-Thank you for your rcy!"
Shiro didn't even spare them another glance. With his strength, bullying ordinary people was aningless. Aside from the two who actually acted, he had no interest in punishing the rest.
He turned to the classmate cowering in the corner—the sa one who stord out of class earlier. The boy's face was pale, his legs trembling.
Shiro walked up slowly, his expression cold.
"I'm not interested in you," he said quietly. "I just want to get through high school peacefully. So don't ever let this happen again. Got it?"
The boy nodded furiously. "Y-Yes, Sakamaki-kun! I was wrong! I swear I won't cause any more trouble!"
Shiro narrowed his eyes. "And Yukinoshita-san. If I find out you're harassing her again, you'll wish it was just your leg."
The boy's expression turned even paler. "Understood! I won't go near her! I promise!"
"Good. We're classmates. No need to escalate things. Just stay out of my way."
As the boy staggered to his feet, relieved to be spared, Shiro suddenly turned back.
"Wait."
He pointed at the two injured n. "Clean up your ss. Don't drag into it."
"Y-Yes! I'll take care of everything! It's like this never happened!"
Satisfied, Shiro began walking out of the warehouse.
But sothing didn't sit right.
He paused at the door, reconsidering.
This guy wanted to break my leg, he thought. Letting him go like this... might just invite more trouble.
He turned sharply and walked back to the boy.
"You know what? On second thought, I should help you rember this lesson better."
Before the boy could react, Shiro delivered a crushing kick to his ankle.
Snap.
His foot bent unnaturally at a ninety-degree angle. The pain was so intense, the boy blacked out for a second, nerves numb with shock.
"That should do it," Shiro muttered. "Next ti, it won't just be your ankle."
He stepped over the trembling figure. "Handle the rest yourself."
The boy didn't respond. He just kept nodding in a daze, trying not to pass out.
Shiro picked up his commuting bag, left the warehouse, and made his way to the parking lot. He hopped on his motorcycle and headed for his next destination.
---
Fushikawa Fantastic Bunko.
As one of the largest libraries and publishing groups in Japan, Fushikawa Fantastic Bunko stood tall in the heart of the city's business district, its sleek office tower gleaming under the sun.
They didn't just handle novels. From manga to magazines, light novels to audio adaptations, Fushikawa Fantastic Bunko was a creative powerhouse.
Shiro parked his bike out front and gazed up at the building.
A place like this in the heart of the business district... No wonder light novel authors call it sacred ground.
Today, he wasn't just another high schooler. He was here to knock on the door of his dreams.
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