Thug King

The news of Isao Ryuji's defeat spread faster than the video. A video could be dismissed as a fluke, a lucky shot. But a public execution of the Boxing Club's number two, witnessed by over fifty students, was undeniable proof.

The name "Tanaka Kenji" was no longer a whisper. It was a roar. He was a shark that had just devoured another shark, and the smell of blood was now thick in the water.

In a dimly lit, smoke-filled room tucked away behind the old gymnasium—a place no teacher dared to enter—the apex predator of Seiryu High held court.

Yamata Kazuya, "The Executioner," sat on a worn-out leather sofa as if it were a throne. He was not a giant like Takeda or a chiseled athlete like Isao. He was deceptively lean, with sharp, intelligent eyes and slicked-back black hair. A thin, cruel smile was permanently etched on his face. His power wasn't just in his fists; it was in the palpable aura of dread that he projected, a promise of calculated, merciless violence.

Two of his lieutenants stood before him, reporting on the day's events.

"...and then he just walked away, as if he'd just taken out the trash," one of them finished, his voice laced with awe and fear. "Honda is losing his mind. He wants to lead the entire Boxing Club to hunt Tanaka down tomorrow."

Yamata took a long, slow drag from a cigarette, letting the smoke curl from his lips before he spoke. His voice was smooth, almost gentle, which made his words all the more terrifying.

"Honda is a dog with a loud bark. Let him bark. Let him tire himself out chasing this new rabbit."

"But King," the other lieutenant protested, "this Tanaka kid... he's not normal. The way they describe him, he's a monster. He took out Isao without even throwing a punch. He's making a mockery of our school's entire power structure."

Yamata smiled, a chilling expression devoid of warmth. "A mockery? No. He's creating an opportunity. For too long, this school has been stagnant. The same faces, the same predictable fights. It's been... boring."

He stood up and walked to a wall covered in a large map of the city, sectioned into territories. Seiryu's territory was marked in blue. Three other territories were marked in red, white, and black.

"This Tanaka," Yamata continued, tapping a finger on the map, "is a stone thrown into a still pond. The ripples he creates will expose weaknesses. They will show me who is loyal, who is a coward, and who is ambitious. I want to see what he does. I want to see how high he can climb."

He turned back to his men, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "Let Honda and the Judo Captain wear him down. Let's see what this ghost is made of. When he has defeated all the other 'strongest' in this school and thinks he has reached the top... that is when I will step out of the shadows. And I will execute him in front of everyone, reminding them all who the true and only King of Seiryu is."

His lieutenants shivered, a new understanding dawning on them. To Yamata, this wasn't a threat. It was entertainment.

Miles away, in a different part of the city, the ripples from Seiryu High had already crossed borders.

Suzaku High School was a stark contrast to Seiryu. Its walls were covered in graffiti, its gates were bent, and its students carried themselves with the swagger of a conquering army. Suzaku was ruled by pure, unadulterated strength, and at the top of that brutal pyramid sat a queen.

In a rooftop dojo, the rhythmic thud of shinai striking protective armor echoed.

WHACK!

A male student in full kendo gear flew backward, his bamboo sword clattering to the ground as he crashed into the wall, groaning in pain.

In the center of the dojo stood a girl. She was tall and athletic, her fiery red hair tied up in a high, messy ponytail. She wore a modified, sleeveless school uniform that showed off toned, scarred arms. A real katana was slung across her back, a clear violation of every law and school rule, but no one at Suzaku dared to question it. Her eyes, a sharp and piercing amber, burned with an unquenchable fire.

This was Rina Sato, the "Crimson Oni" of Suzaku High.

"Pathetic!" she snarled, lowering her shinai. "You call that a strike? My grandmother hits harder, and she's dead! Get up! Again!"

Her gang members, a collection of the toughest delinquents in the district, watched from the sidelines with a mixture of fear and absolute adoration. Rina had taken control of Suzaku High through sheer combat prowess, defeating every challenger, male or female, who dared to stand against her. She was their pride, their leader, their Oni.

A girl with short, spiky blue hair, Rina's second-in-command, hurried forward, holding out a phone. "Rina-sama! News from Seiryu."

Rina snatched the phone, her amber eyes scanning the screen. She read the forum posts, her expression shifting from boredom to annoyance, and finally, to intrigued disbelief as she watched the video of Kenji dismantling Takeda's crew.

"Hoh?" A dangerous, amused sound escaped her lips. "This is the 'demon' they're all crying about? He looks like a bean sprout."

"He just took down Isao Ryuji from the Boxing Club less than an hour ago," her subordinate added. "The report says he didn't even use his fists."

Rina watched the second video, a grainy phone recording of the fight at the school entrance. She watched Kenji's impossible, millimeter-perfect dodge. She watched the precise nerve strike that disabled Isao's arm. She watched the brutal, efficient headbutt that ended it.

Her dismissive smirk vanished. It was replaced by a slow, spreading grin, one filled with savage excitement. The fire in her eyes intensified.

"He's not a brawler," she said, her voice a low purr. "He's not a sportsman. He's a killer who has been taught to hold back. Look at his eyes. There's nothing there. No emotion. Just… process."

She handed the phone back, her gaze distant, looking across the city in the direction of Seiryu High. The other schools in their district were predictable. The leaders were all muscle-bound idiots or arrogant martial artists. For the first time in a long time, Rina felt a spark. A challenge.

"A ghost who looks like a bean sprout but fights like a demon," she mused. "Interesting. How very interesting."

She turned to her gang, her grin widening into a battle-hungry smirk that made them all straighten up.

"Seiryu has been boring for too long," she declared, her voice ringing with authority. "It's time we paid them a visit. I want to see this 'Tanaka Kenji' for myself."

"All of us, Rina-sama?" her lieutenant asked, her eyes gleaming.

"No," Rina said, grabbing her real katana from its resting place and slinging it comfortably over her shoulder. "This time… I'll go myself. I want to be the first to test the sharpness of this new blade."

A thrill shot through her. A worthy opponent. A new, powerful male appearing on the scene. The thought of it, the possibility of a real fight, of a man who might actually be able to match her, was the most intoxicating thing she had felt in years.

The Crimson Oni of Suzaku was going hunting.