I Really Don’t Want a Girlfriend Anymore

The waiting area outside the restroom felt somewhat quiet.

Yuu sat on a long bench, examining his swollen and scraped right hand. He clenched it slowly, no longer feeling the tearing pain from before, only a sensation like a machine freshly lubricated, making him feel oddly uneasy.

As for his wrist, it still ached slightly when moved, but not enough to require a hospital visit.

"Thank goodness all the damage was concentrated in my fist…" He lowered his hand, letting out a sigh of relief.

If someone checked the inside of the tattered boxing glove, they'd likely see plenty of bloodstains left behind.

After all, in that moment of extreme anger, Yuu could clearly feel his fist turning to mush, the bones of his fingers and palm indistinguishable—

If he hadn't used Instant Recovery in time, even if he didn't faint from the pain, he might've cried involuntarily from the intense stimulation.

His fist wasn't the only thing injured, of course; it's just that his arm and shoulder showed no obvious external wounds, and Instant Recovery had healed them before the pain could register.

This was only at 200%.

If he got another chance and tried 500%, the action-reaction force would likely destroy half his body—clearly, unless he became a human Gundam or a maxed-out vampire, there shouldn't be another opportunity.

"Well, you could say I've got a good grasp of the system's skill combinations, plus the satisfying relief of letting it all out with force…"

Stretching widely, Yuu gave a satisfied smile toward the restroom.

"This time, it wasn't a loss!"

"Yo, what wasn't a loss?"

Kouichirou approached from the vending machine, holding three cans of drinks.

Tossing a can of coffee to Yuu, he said with a touch of emotion, "When I saw you talking to that guy, I had a hunch, and sure enough, you're not the cold, lone-wolf type."

"My acting's not good enough?" Yuu opened the coffee can, his acting already dropped, and asked casually while sipping.

"It's good. It's just…"

Kouichirou sat in the empty spot beside him, then suddenly turned to his side profile, giving a strange smile.

"There's a scent of deception on you."

Yuu's body shivered involuntarily, and he reflexively covered his face with the coffee can, his expression one of disgust. "You're not gonna try to lick me, are you?"

"Hahaha! You figured it out! After that punch, I saw that face of yours dying to grumble, so I knew you must understand the meaning behind 'Ora' and 'Muda'!"

Like a tourist meeting a fellow hometown friend abroad, Kouichirou excitedly patted his knee, then tilted his head back, chugging a few gulps of Pepsi Cola before saying with a refreshed expression:

"Hah—feeling lonely with no one around who gets JOJO, I never thought I'd get to vent with a high schooler I just met."

"College student, watch your words," Yuu shifted his butt, keeping his distance from the adult radiating philosophical vibes beside him.

"I never would've guessed an elite noble guy like you is a hardcore otaku."

"What's wrong with being a hardcore otaku? It's exactly because I'm rich that I can be one!"

"Apologize to the otakus who skip meals to afford anime subscriptions!"

"Just kidding." His smile softened, and Kouichirou looked down at the rim of his Pepsi can, letting out a light sigh. "Honestly, if it weren't for the overwhelming family pressure, I wouldn't have drowned myself in the 2D world."

"My little sister's got it worse. She doesn't even have time to find entertainment to relieve her stress—she's practically suffocating under schoolwork and parental expectations. I'm really worried she'll hit her limit one day…"

After his words, the atmosphere grew quiet and heavy.

"…Well, every family has its own problems."

Yuu silently sipped his coffee, not commenting much.

He didn't know what this guy was thinking, suddenly talking to him about heavy family matters, leaving him unsure how to respond.

But after a few more gulps of Pepsi, like a massage machine freshly recharged, Kouichirou quickly regained his energy.

His earlier soft, refined demeanor might as well have been flung to Madagascar. His eyes gleamed like a husky's, and he leaned closer to Yuu:

"By the way, are you a Stand user? Or do you practice Hamon? Can you teach me? I'll be your disciple, Tenkuji-sensei!"

A shiver ran down his spine, and Yuu tactically fled with his coffee.

"Don't get all excited on your own. I'm not a Stand user, and I don't know Hamon. Stop calling me sensei."

Kouichirou still seemed skeptical. "If you can't do either, how'd you wreck that punching machine?"

The events from half an hour ago were still vivid in his mind.

That first devastating punch could be explained by natural strength or exceptional talent—there are plenty of amazing people like that online.

But the second punch…

Even if recorded as a video, it'd only be seen as a comedy skit.

After all, what normal person could, while playing a punching machine, throw a punch with a gust of wind, smashing the entire bag and its support pole into the machine, sending debris flying and game coins raining down like a shower, clinking across the floor?

As for the score?

Forget 985 or 1,000 points—the screen itself exploded. What was there to see?

They didn't understand his struggle, holding back a force the machine couldn't handle!

And after removing the glove, Yuu's hand, aside from scrapes and swelling, showed no clear damage to bones, ligaments, or joints, acting as if nothing happened!

Everyone there, including Haruno, stared at him like he was a monster.

Even a car crashing wouldn't come out unscathed—could his physical quality rival a car's front end?

Truly over the top.

Unless Yuu was from Baki Hanma's world, Kouichirou couldn't believe he achieved such a "great feat" with an ordinary human body.

"It's my secret. Don't ask too much," Yuu sighed in resignation, using the same tactic he used with Haruno.

Life isn't easy, Yuu sighed.

"I won't explain too much to you either. That punch can't be taught, and don't go blabbing about it… Though even if you did, no one would probably believe it."

"But everything you did was caught on the game center's CCTV," Kouichirou pointed upward, his brows slightly furrowed, seemingly thinking of himself. "I can help settle the machine issue. My family's in the electronics business, so we have some connections… This sports center can't complain, but if the person in charge doesn't want to give face, that CCTV footage might…"

"Oh, that? I'll handle it, don't worry."

Haruno emerged from the women's restroom, drying her hands, speaking politely: "Thanks for your help, Yuuki-kun. No need to trouble yourself further—Ribbon-chan and the others are still waiting for you. Hurry over."

"Hey, why're you like that? At least I—"

"The drink too, thanks," Haruno took the third can beside him, ignoring him completely, and looked at Yuu.

"Your hand, it's really okay?"

As she spoke, she pressed the cold can against the back of Yuu's hand, as if to help compress it.

"Hm, a few days' rest, and it'll be fine."

Yuu raised his hand, sipped his coffee, and quickly pulled his drink back.

"Good. I was really worried about you," Haruno's loose ponytail swayed as she squinted with a smile, saying meaningfully, "If you got hurt while out with me, it'd be hard to explain to your 'boss' and 'subordinate.'"

"Cough…" Yuu choked on a few sips of coffee.

He understood "boss" as referring to the rent-a-boyfriend agency, but "subordinate"…

(Don't tell me you still want to explain things to my sister?)

(No way in hell I'd let a scheming woman like you, who's basically Makima, meet my sister!)

Yuu didn't respond, only glancing at Kouichirou, signaling that Haruno shouldn't say too much here.

After all, a curious person would immediately ask: "What's your actual relationship?"