Chapter 11: Most trusty Weapon

Two days later, the school newspaper club caused an uproar by publishing an article accompanied by a shocking photo. The image featured Hajime Sudo, a first-year student from Class 1-A, hanging out with a group of rough-looking college delinquents. Even more scandalous, Hajime was caught in the act of smoking and bullying—an unmistakable cigarette in hand, and a beaten up guy lying in front of his leg. A first-year, still a minor, smoking? And indulging in violance and bullying?

Apparently, the president of the newspaper club had discovered the incriminating photo in their shoe locker. As a journalist, they couldn't pass up the opportunity to report on such a sensational topic. Though the article was swiftly taken down by the school, it had already reached a significant portion of the student body. Almost everyone in the school knew Hajime Sudo, and the news spread like wildfire.

Those who once admired him were now bitterly disappointed. Students who looked up to him as a model of perfection began to frown in disapproval, whispering behind his back. The saying, "The higher you climb, the harder you fall," seemed all too fitting. In Hajime's case, his popularity was on the brink of being replaced with scorn and resentment.

"Ahh! Who the hell dared to mess with me?!" Sudo roared, swinging a baseball bat with reckless fury, shattering anything within reach. After enduring an entire day of scorn and ridicule at school, he had retreated to an abandoned house owned by his family—a place he used as his secret base. This was the very location where the photo from the article had been taken, but it was supposed to be a well-guarded secret. Only his most trusted underlings knew about it.

"There's a traitor among us," he hissed, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "My hard work, everything I've built… Who is it? Who betrayed me?"

He buried his face in his hands, his voice lowering to an ominous murmur. Yet, through the gaps between his fingers, his sharp, maddened eyes scanned the room, studying each of his underlings. One by one, his gaze fell upon them, piercing and accusing. The tension in the room was palpable as his underlings flinched under his intense scrutiny, their loyalty now under a shadow of doubt.

Among Sudo's underlings were not just students from his class but also second and third years, college students, and even dropouts. Each one of them was supposed to be his loyal dogs. The room was thick with tension when one of his classmates hesitantly raised a trembling hand.

"B-Boss, I think the culprit is that Amane Hayato guy. I saw him… silently grinning when the news spread."

Sudo froze, his eyes narrowing as the name rang in his mind. 'Amane Hayato.' Yes, it made sense. From the beginning, Sudo had disliked that guy's attitude. Hayato had humiliated him in front of the entire class, tarnishing his pride. Sudo had tried to put him in his place, but nothing worked. And now, here he was—his reputation crumbling, his hard-earned image shattered.

Gritting his teeth, Sudo felt the rage boil over. His grip on the baseball bat tightened as his vision blurred with fury. Without a word, he swung the bat at the boy who had dared to speak, channeling all his anger toward the thought of Hayato.

The crack of the impact echoed through the room as the bat connected—not with the boy's head, but his arm. A pained scream followed, and the sound of bone breaking was unmistakable. The boy clutched his now-useless arm, whimpering on the floor.

"You will pay for it," Sudo muttered darkly, his voice laced with lunacy.

In the original anime, Hajime Sudo was the epitome of arrogance—proud, pretentious, and always hungry for attention. At first, there was no clash between him and the protagonist because the protagonist was just an average guy and preferred staying out of the limelight, content in the background. But as the story progressed, the protagonist's actions began to shine—he saved multiple female leads and got caught up in a series of events that slowly brought him into the spotlight.

This shift ignited Sudo's jealousy. The more the protagonist gained attention and admiration, the more Sudo felt his own shine dimming. Determined to put the protagonist in his place, Sudo started bullying him from the shadows, trying to undermine him at every turn. The protagonist, lacking the qualities to stand up for himself at that time, struggled to defend himself.

However, with the unwavering support of the female leads, the protagonist eventually managed to expose Sudo's true nature. Sudo's reign of manipulation came to an end, and in the face of the scandal, he transferred schools in shame. Remarkably, there was no physical violence involved—only the truth and the protagonist's strength of character.

In the current version of events, however, this arc has moved much earlier in the story. Instead of building up over time, the clash with Sudo is happening now, it's just, the protagonist's place has been replaced with Hayato.

However, everything had been meticulously orchestrated by Hayato from the very beginning. The moment Sudo first approached him, Hayato knew this clash was inevitable. And he welcomed it with open arms. To Hayato, it was better to uproot the weed before it had the chance to spread, even if it meant playing a dangerous game.

That's why he deliberately provoked Sudo at every opportunity, using subtle means to humiliate him. While Hayato never confronted Sudo directly, targeting his underlings and ridiculing his schemes was enough to stir the arrogant boy into action. Each insult, each calculated jab, pushed Sudo closer to the edge.

The incriminating photo of Sudo smoking was also Hayato's doing. Having knowledge of Sudo's secret base from the anime, Hayato had followed him there multiple times, waiting for the perfect opportunity. When the moment came, he captured the evidence he needed. But he knew the photo alone wasn't enough to take Sudo down. With his family's influence, Sudo could easily suppress the rumors, brushing the incident off with nothing more than a few days' suspension.

No, Hayato's true aim was far greater. He wasn't interested in a fleeting scandal; he wanted to completely dismantle Sudo's reputation and power. The photo was merely the first move in a much larger game. What Hayato truly sought was to manipulate Sudo into making a huge mistake—something so irredeemable it would serve as the final nail in his coffin.

"Alright, we're alone now. You can come out, Sudo," Hayato said calmly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the empty street. He didn't bother to look back, his steady footsteps came to a halt.

Returning from school, Hayato had already noticed Sudo's presence, along with a few of his underlings trailing him from a distance. They were amateurs at best, their attempts at stealth laughably obvious. It wasn't hard to figure out their plan—they were waiting for the perfect moment when Hayato would be alone. And now, that moment had arrived.

"Hahaha!" A maniacal laugh echoed through the alley as Sudo emerged from behind a corner, his messy hair and crazed grin making him look unhinged. "You really are something, I'll give you that," he praised, his voice dripping with mockery.

Hayato, unbothered by the theatrics, remained calm. Ignoring the comment, he asked, "Why are you following me?"

Sudo laughed again, louder this time, his amusement tinged with rage. "After everything you've put me through, you seriously have the audacity to ask me that? Of course, I came to get my revenge on you."

Unfazed, Hayato tilted his head slightly. "What exactly did I do to you?"

This time, Sudo's laughter stopped. His face twisted in anger, teeth grinding as his annoyance boiled over. "Don't play dumb with me!" he shouted. "You made me a laughingstock! You destroyed everything I built! I was supposed to be the main character! Everyone was supposed to follow me, admire me! The girls… all of them should've flaunted themselves at me!" His voice cracked with frustration, his composure long gone.

Pointing a trembling finger at Hayato, he growled, "But you…a mere background character dared to go against me, you ruined it all! And I will never forgive you for that!"

Suddenly, Sudo's expression hardened, and he barked out a command. "All of you, come out!"

At Sudo's command, figures began stepping out of the shadows one after another. As the sheer number of people became clear, Hayato couldn't help but chuckle dryly to himself. 'Haha, this is bad. There are more than I expected.'

Scanning the crowd, Hayato counted roughly more than thirty delinquents. They weren't amateurs either—most of them moved with a practiced silence that even he hadn't detected. 'These guys aren't your run-of-the-mill thugs… they're probably hired muscle who beat people up for money,' Hayato realized, a cold sweat forming on his brow.

He gulped, his voice coming out with a nervous stutter. "H-Hey, you brought this many people just to beat up a high school student?"

Sudo's grin widened arrogantly at the sight of Hayato's apparent fear. "Of course," he sneered. "I know it was you who took that picture of mine. You've been a thorn in my side for far too long, so I made sure to come fully prepared. These guys? Most of them are somewhat professionals. Do you know how much I had to pay to get them here? I even had to beg my father for the money."

Sudo's eyes burned with malice as he stepped closer. "You might think you've ruined my reputation, but you're wrong. Whatever damage you caused, I can rebuild it over time. Worst case? A few days of suspension—nothing I can't handle."

Then, his grin twisted into something far more sinister. "But you… I'll make sure you regret everything. I'll break your hands, your feet—maybe even that annoying face of yours. When I'm done, you won't be able to get out of bed, much less show your face to anyone ever again."

The madness in Sudo's eyes grew more intense as his laughter echoed through the empty street. "And those two bitches who are always hanging around you... I'll make them my toys. I'll play with them to my heart's content."

Hayato instinctively took a step back, his voice trembling. "N-No... D-Do you really think you can get away with doing something like that?"

Sudo's grin stretched even wider, feeding off Hayato's fear. He let out a sinister chuckle, savoring the moment. "Get away with it? Don't worry about that," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You see, my dad loves me very much. He's already promised to cover everything up for me. I can do whatever I want."

Hayato fell to his knees, his legs giving out beneath him. Tears streamed down his face as he bowed his head, pressing his forehead against the ground. His voice cracked as he begged, "N-No, please... I'm sorry! Please, spare my friends! They have nothing to do with this!"

Sudo and his men burst into raucous laughter, the sound echoing cruelly in the narrow street. Sudo wiped a tear from his eye, overwhelmed with glee. "Ah, I can't take it anymore!" he said, gasping for breath between laughs. "You're still worried about them even now? How pathetic."

He crouched down, grabbing Hayato by the hair and forcing him to look up. "Alright, since you care about them so much, here's the deal. Next time I beat you half to death again, I'll bring videos of me 'playing' with them. Maybe you can watch them for fun."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "This little game between us, It's not ending anytime soon. I'll keep coming for you... until the day you die."

The laughter of Sudo's men echoed through the air, their jeering voices blending with the suffocating tension. Hayato's trembling form stayed bowed low to the ground, seemingly helpless. Yet, as the noise reached its peak, something unexpected happened—a grin spread across Hayato's face, sharp and unyielding like a predator baring its fangs.

Before Sudo could process the shift in Hayato's demeanor, a fist shot up like a coiled spring.

Crack!

Hayato's uppercut connected with Sudo's jaw with a bone-rattling force, sending him stumbling backward into the group of delinquents behind him. His men stared in stunned silence, their boss momentarily dazed from the unexpected blow.

Straightening up, Hayato brushed the dirt off his knees, his trembling replaced by an unsettling calm. His sharp eyes locked onto Sudo as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "You talk too much, idiot," Hayato said, his voice cold and mocking.

He tapped the screen, and a familiar voice began to play.

"...And those two bitches close to you... I'll make them my toys...my dad loves me very much and promised to cover everything up for me. I can do whatever I want....."

Sudo froze, his eyes widening in sheer panic. It was his voice, every vile word he'd just spoken captured perfectly. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized the implications. The photo might've been something he could recover from with time and his father's influence, but this recording? If it leaked, he was finished. No school would take him, the police would undoubtedly get involved, and even his father's connections wouldn't be able to save him.

"Y-You!" Sudo growled, his voice breaking as desperation overtook him. "Catch that bastard right now! Don't let him get away!"

His men snapped out of their stunned state and charged forward, their footsteps thundering against the pavement. But Hayato had already ran away before they could even begin the chase.

Hayato was no slouch when it came to fighting—his skills were sharp, and his reflexes unmatched by most. However, the sheer number of people Sudo had brought along posed a serious problem. These weren't just some run-of-the-mill delinquent kids; they were experienced bruisers, men who knew their craft. Stronger, bulkier, and clearly more accustomed to street brawls, they were a force that Hayato couldn't hope to overpower in a straight-up fight, especially in the confines of the narrow streets.

If they managed to surround him, it would be the end of the line. However, if it's an open space, with enough room to maneuver and use his agility to his advantage? That was an entirely different story.

Though Hayato hadn't anticipated this many people, it wasn't entirely outside the realm of his knowledge. He had foreseen that today would be the day Sudo would made his final, desperate move. After all, Hayato had been provoking him into this corner, and he was prepared to face the consequences—though the situation had become significantly more dangerous than he'd hoped.

He sprinted through the streets, his breaths growing heavier with each step. Despite the exhaustion setting in, he pressed on, glancing back to find Sudo's men just as winded but still relentless in their pursuit. The determination in their eyes told him they wouldn't stop until they caught him.

Leading them further away from the heart of the city, Hayato eventually reached the outskirts, where the urban landscape gave way to the rural countryside. Ahead lay a small hill, its base shrouded in a sparse, thin forest.

Hayato's pace slowed as he arrived at his chosen destination. He finally stopped, the sounds of his pursuers growing louder as they closed in. This place—the forest at the bottom of the hill—was where he intended to make his stand. It was open enough to give him the space he needed to fight, yet dense enough to create confusion and keep them from surrounding him too easily.

The men chasing Hayato came to a stop a few meters away, their breaths ragged but their confidence unwavering. They assumed Hayato had finally reached his limit, cornered and out of options. Among them, Sudo pushed his way to the front, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Ha… You… Ha… Mother… Ha… Fucker," Sudo panted, pausing to steady himself before continuing, his voice laced with venom. "You ran straight to your grave. Out here, in this godforsaken place, there's no one to save you now." His words echoed in the quiet countryside, but Hayato remained unmoved, his expression calm and unbothered.

Without acknowledging Sudo's tirade, Hayato turned his back to them, letting his bag slip from his shoulder and fall to the ground. He crouched down, unzipping it with deliberate slowness, his actions drawing the curious gazes of Sudo and his men.

"What's this now?" one of them muttered.

From the bag, Hayato pulled out two objects. The instant the group realized what he was holding, laughter erupted among them.

"Is that—?"

"Pfft! Crowbars? Seriously?"

Everyone doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. "What the hell, man?!" Someone shouted.

Hayato remained unfazed, standing tall as the laughter echoed around him. He spun the crowbars in his hands, their metallic hum slicing through the air like a warning bell. Testing their weight and balance, he spoke, his voice calm and unaffected by the mockery.

"A long time ago," he began, "I watched an anime about a guy. He wanted to become the strongest but wanted to stay in the shadow. So, he roamed the streets at night wearing a mask, hunting down bad guys. Not to be a hero—no, he did it to train. To get stronger in real fights."

The group continued snickering, but Hayato ignored them, his tone steady as he carried on. "I didn't like that about him—he was selfish—but there's one thing he said that stuck with me. He said that knives and guns, while deadly, are illegal and a pain to carry. Crowbars, on the other hand..." Hayato twirled one of the crowbars in a smooth arc, its edge glinting in the soft sunlight.

"They're superior. They're sturdy. Easy to carry. Perfectly legal. And if you know what you're doing..." He adjusted his grip, holding them like tonfas, his movements fluid and practiced. "They're versatile. They've got good range, they can block attacks, can be thrown if needed, and..."

He paused, the faintest hint of a grin creeping across his face. "They don't leave fatal marks if used correctly."

The laughter from Sudo's men faltered, uncertainty creeping into their expressions. Hayato's smile widened into a cocky, almost predatory grin. He pointed one of the crowbars directly at them, the gesture casual yet menacing.

"After using them once, i fall in love with them. Really, these darlings are the perfect tools for dealing with Trashes like you."

With that declaration, the tension snapped like a taut wire. Both sides charged at each other, Sudo's men with their bare fists, and Hayato wielding his trusty crowbars. It was a chaotic scene, but Hayato wasn't reckless enough to dive headlong into a mass of opponents without a strategy.

Midway through the charge, he veered to the side, his sharp instincts targeting the flank. By attacking the outer edges of the group, he ensured they couldn't surround him—a classic maneuver in handling overwhelming numbers.

Gripping one crowbar by the end, he swung it in a wide arc, the metal whistling through the air before it struck its first target. The man raised his arms to block, absorbing the brunt of the blow with his forearm. A sharp *thud* echoed, and though the impact didn't break bone, the force left the man wincing in pain, clutching his arm with a grimace.

Hayato followed up with a sharp kick to the first guy's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Without pausing, he spun on his heel, the momentum carrying him into the next motion. The fluidity of his movements resembled a deadly dance as he transitioned seamlessly to his next target.

He swung his second crowbar in a precise arc, aiming for the ribs of another thug. The satisfying thwack of metal meeting flesh was followed by a groan of pain as the man crumpled to the ground, clutching his side.

Before anyone could react or attempt to grab him, Hayato darted into the cover of the trees, his footfalls light and calculated. His voice rang out, loud enough for them to hear but laced with mocking confidence, "Two down..."