Chapter 55
"Ugh, this is really bad luck—"
When Chuuya Nakahara entered the room with a long, drawn-out complaint, he startled Pushkin, who was resting on the sofa.
"What's going on with you??"
“This isn’t my blood,” Chuuya Nakahara said, picking up a wet strand of hair with his fingertips. “It’s the enemy’s. It splashed over by accident. Damn it, [Gravity Manipulation] is hard to deflect liquids. It’s made the parts that got on me sticky and uncomfortable. Not only that, but my favorite outfit is ruined!”
He looked truly horribly ravaged; his clothes had several bullet holes, and there was blood splattered on his clothes and hair, including some unwiped marks on his face.
"Could it be that someone is deliberately picking on you?"
Pushkin's eye twitched. He was curious to know which enemy was so blind as to pick the most capable fighter among them.
What's the difference between this and courting death...? Why didn't they go find Ivan first? What a pity.
He will definitely pretend he didn't see it and will not help until that guy begs him for help in a humble manner.
"Hmph, rather than deliberately picking on me, it's more accurate to say they were attacking me indiscriminately, and I was simply suffering an undeserved disaster."
As he spoke, Chuuya Nakahara was still trying to wipe the dried bloodstains on his face with his sleeve, which made him uncomfortable—his brows were also furrowed, showing that he was very resentful. "I'm going to take a shower first, and we'll talk later."
In the middle of the afternoon, Pushkin was finally able to get a short rest. Ivan was in the kitchen humming a cello concerto, the melody long and light, while carefully preparing delicious afternoon tea snacks for his master.
Oda Sakunosuke had to go out on a mission, leaving only Ye Yihe, who had just woken up from his afternoon nap, to come to the restaurant. "I heard that Zhong was also attacked?"
Wow, who has the guts to attack this humanoid self-propelled nuclear bomb device, the self-destructing truck?
"It's the port mafia."
After taking a shower and changing his clothes, finally free from the stickiness and bloody smell, Chuuya Nakahara lay on the back of the sofa and looked this way.
His entire upper body was almost sunk into the soft backrest, leaving only his ochre-orange head tilted to the side with his outstretched arms; his freshly washed hair had been haphazardly dried with a towel, and the ends were sticking out in all directions, making him look strangely cute.
“I just wanted to go play some video games,” the ochre-orange head sighed softly. “On the way, I was suddenly surrounded by a group of men in black suits carrying submachine guns, saying that they were going to kill all the red-haired teenagers.”
Chuuya Nakahara, who was strolling leisurely towards the arcade with his hands in his pockets, was suddenly surrounded by this group of people. When the kill announcement was made, he was completely bewildered.
Who's the redhead?? Open your eyes and look closely, his hair is an ochre-orange! Or, to be more precise, a reddish-orange brown. Where did this redhead come from?? Are you all not only idiots, but also colorblind?!
But the group in black suits wouldn't let it go, saying that someone had witnessed a red-haired boy drawing graffiti mocking the leader on his car. So the leader ordered that any red-haired boy should be executed to maintain the dignity of the port mafia.
[So...you guys are just asking for it, right?]
Realizing he couldn't reason with them, Zhongyuan Zhong couldn't help but sigh deeply. When he looked up again, his hair and the hem of his clothes floated slowly and undeniably in the opposite direction, and even his voice became cold, hard, and indifferent.
[Then you can't blame me.]
—At this point in the recollection, Chuuya Nakahara was still slumped in the back of the sofa, only lazily stretching his arms.
"That's how it is. I wasn't paying much attention while taking them down, and a bullet that bounced back due to gravity hit someone's carotid artery. It was so close to me that I got sprayed with blood... Ugh, what bad luck. In the end, I didn't even get to play the game and was forced to come back early to take a shower!"
Chuuya Nakahara was dejected because his plans had been disrupted.
Ye Yihe and Pushkin were also somewhat silent, never expecting that the port mafia had actually come to them on their own initiative.
Only Ivan continued to smile as he handed Ye Yihe a strawberry mousse cake, its edges smooth and its appearance exquisite and beautiful. "Please enjoy. Would you like some coffee?"
He acted as if he hadn't heard Chuuya's complaints at all, or rather, he nonchalantly ignored them, like a gamer who simply presses the skip button to skip through the story.
"Oh, thank you. No need for coffee, I don't want any today."
Ye Yihe shook his head. He didn't know how Fyodor felt, but he was prone to stomach upset if he drank too much coffee, and he felt bad for Ivan's kindness if he didn't finish the whole cup... so he decided to just have cake with tea.
After delivering the strawberry mousse cake to Ye Yihe, Ivan straightened up and looked at Nakahara Chuuya, "Would you like a strawberry mousse cake?"
Soothed by the delicious food, Chuuya Nakahara immediately straightened his back and decisively agreed with a "yes".
"Hey, am I included this time?" Pushkin pointed to himself, incredulous. "I'm the only one who didn't get any??"
And now we just have to watch them eat!
"Sugar is the enemy of weight loss; it is the food that fat loves."
Ivan's eyelids were half-closed, his lips were smiling, and he spoke merciless words with the most devout expression: "The day of indulgence has not yet come. If you really want to eat, come and smell the aroma."
"How could you bear to let me only smell it and not eat it...!" Pushkin wailed, clutching his head. "You devil! The strawberry mousse cake was cut into four pieces, what's wrong with giving me one!"
That's a portion size; he could eat it all in one bite and it would make him glow! He wouldn't gain weight at all!
“Those were reserved for Mr. Oda,” those silver-gray eyes shifted slightly, coldly fixing on him, “Are you trying to steal the snacks from Mr. Oda?”
Pushkin: "………………"
No, he wouldn't dare.
Ye Yihe, having eaten a few bites of cake, blinked his wine-red eyes while biting his spoon, but still didn't tell Pushkin that desserts could actually be made with xylitol, which would be both sweet and low in calories.
Let's surprise him next time, as a reward for his hard work in training.
In addition, Ye Yihe is seriously considering matters concerning the port mafia.
The leader who killed all the red-haired teenagers on the streets of Yokohama because of the graffiti on the car was obviously violent, cruel, and tyrannical; there were basically no good words to describe him.
Killing such a heinous criminal would surely be a great achievement.
Should we try to assassinate him...? But the Port Mafia can run rampant in Yokohama so arrogantly, so they must have a lot of powerful weapons, and, well, there must be quite a few superhumans among them.
Given his impulsiveness in making enemies everywhere and incurring countless hatreds and infamy, he must be very careful about his own safety, and not just anyone has the opportunity to get close to him.
"You really need to be careful when you go out these days,"
Ye Yihe finally spoke, "Who knows what crazy things that indiscriminate killer leader might do next."
Let's talk to Oda Sakunosuke about it when he gets back.
What are you thinking about?
When Ye Yihe returned to his room after finishing the cake, Fyodor in the Palace of Consciousness suddenly spoke.
[About the leader of that port mafia?]
Although Ye Yihe only hesitated for a moment, Fyodor still accurately guessed his thoughts.
"yes,"
Ye Yihe made no attempt to hide this, saying, "I have absolutely no goodwill towards the leader of that organization."
Chuuya was so strong today that he was able to turn the tables on everyone, which is why he was able to return so easily and safely, and he told them about it as a normal complaint.
What if he doesn't have any special abilities? If he's just an ordinary person, will he really be easily killed like the other red-haired teenagers, leaving them with a corpse riddled with bullet holes, without even a chance to hear his last words?
Leaving aside ordinary people, even someone like Pushkin, whose supernatural abilities are insufficient to protect his body from a large-scale attack by firearms, would have virtually no chance of survival.
Even if Ye Yihe wanted to ignore the organization, he couldn't stop them from getting close to him and unleashing their full power.
How can I help you?
Fyodor's smile was very light and low, only revealing a hint in the flow of his youthful voice, carrying an almost imperceptible sweet allure.
I will grant your wish; all you need to do is tell me.
"…………"
This clever but mischievous little mouse offered to help, which immediately made Ye Yihe a little wary.
No matter how nice Fyodor's words were, he hadn't forgotten that last time he mistakenly thought he was fighting alongside the other side, he only got zero resurrection points in return!
"Why are you suddenly saying this... I don't remember saying I wanted to do anything?"
[I just wanted to help you.]
Fyodor said casually, "[Since you dislike that leader, let me help you kill him.]"
Ye Yihe had no doubt that he could do it.
After all, if Fyodor could fool the "Hero of the Far East," Fukuchi Sakura, so what couldn't his top-notch intelligence do?
But precisely because of this, Ye Yihe couldn't agree to him hastily—who knew what kind of trap this little mouse might secretly dig for him to fall into?
“I don’t think killing a leader will end all of this,” Ye Yihe shook his head.
[So, do you want to end the Port Mafia organization, or do you want to end all the gangsters in this city?]
Fyodor's slow, deliberate words carried a subtle, enigmatic smile. That absolute control, that composure beneath the surface of calm detachment, was tentatively revealed to the other party as the dark side was deliberately exposed.
If Fyodor were face to face with Ye Yihe at this moment, he would certainly receive a speechless glance from Ye Yihe.
He was just upset because his own people were being bullied; he wasn't being cynical.
“That kind of thing can’t be solved by an individual alone,” Ye Yihe said quietly.
"Even if you really do everything you can to wipe out the criminal organizations in one city, another criminal organization in another city will quickly fill the void."
This kind of thing is basically unsolvable, and it has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not superhumans exist in the world.
In the world he once lived in, there were no superhumans, but did that mean there were no gangs? There were plenty, they were everywhere, deeply rooted in the other side of modern cities.
As long as violence can bring benefits, there will be people who will follow in the footsteps of villains.
Even if there were only ten people left in the world, those ten people might not be able to live together peacefully. He had seen news reports of people being stranded on a desert island and killing each other.
We can't exactly make him shout out his ideal—to exterminate all of humanity.
[Yes, that's true.]
Fyodor smiled and agreed with Yeikh's statement, even providing him with some more detailed information.
Yokohama is a port city where not only is it easy to gain economic benefits through smuggling, but its internal mismanagement has also bred many corrupt officials.
[Besides the ruthless Port Mafia, there's the Strain, which specializes in hiring and delivering dangerous goods; the Shadow Blade, which sells weapons on the black market; the Holy Staff, which makes money by using cults and supernatural abilities to create miracles; the KK Trading Company, which operates smuggling operations... Well, currently the most powerful is probably the Takase-kai, which is also the oldest yakuza organization in the area.]
[If we're talking about within the government, there are also corrupt police officers skilled at erasing evidence of crimes [48], and another, more mysterious, black-glove organization affiliated with the government.]
“…………” Ye Yihe said, “That’s a lot.”
See, what did he say again?
The destruction of that [V] organization back then had absolutely no impact on the inner and outer aspects of this city; it was like scooping up a ladle of water from the ocean.
Instead of setting lofty goals and emulating Fyodor, it's more practical to focus on accumulating resurrection points and quickly creating a new body.
"Even if you eliminate all the superhumans according to your ideal, you still won't achieve the perfect result of completely ending evil, right?" Ye Yihe asked him.
But when faced with this question, Fyodor only let out two soft laughs, the emotions of which were hard to discern, and offered no further answer.
…………
Oda Sakunosuke, upon returning from work, learns of Nakahara Chuuya's ordeal from Ye Yihe.
“Ah,” he said, a faint look of realization crossing his face, “no wonder there were more than three times as many patrolling men in black suits on my way back.”
They're probably looking for that red-haired boy who dared to rebel.
"They didn't cause you any trouble?" Chuuya Nakahara exclaimed with a rising tone, "Huh?" "Your hair color is definitely closer to red!"
“I bypassed their patrol routes,”
Oda Sakunosuke spoke in his usual calm tone, as if to say that easily escaping from a hail of bullets surrounded by enemies was no big deal.
"Moreover, from their conversation, it can be heard that the man in the black suit was mainly looking for a short man."
He's already 1.8 meters tall, which doesn't meet the other party's requirements at all.
The description of him as a "shorty" was irrelevant to Oda Sakunosuke, but it was a devastating blow to Nakahara Chuuya.
With a snap, the can in Chuuya Nakahara's hand was flattened by the sudden pressure of the released weight, and the veins on his forehead bulged. "Where? Where?"
He gritted his teeth as he squeezed out the question, clearly wanting to settle scores with the other party. "I'm not even fourteen yet, I still have a long way to go, you bastards!"
Pushkin strongly supported Chuuya, saying, "That's right, that's right. Look at me, I also started growing taller when I was seventeen or eighteen. Don't worry, you'll definitely grow taller in the future!"
"...If Ivan pokes your butt with rock spikes again next time, I'll shield you from two."
"I knew I wasn't wrong about you, my good brother Chuuya!"
Pushkin was deeply grateful and immediately removed Chuuya from the devil's list.
"Cough, it's nothing, don't call me that, it feels awkward."
Feeling uncomfortable after being overwhelmed by the cheesy sentimentality, Nakahara Chuuya tilted his head slightly, as if his anger had subsided considerably.
"In short, the port mafia has completely set its sights on Chuuya." Ye Yihe raised his hand and slammed it on the table. "This is outrageous! I was planning to cause them trouble, but I didn't expect this leader to be the first to make trouble."
Zhongke is also their beloved group's darling, the good boy that Oda Sakunosuke raised with great difficulty, and Verlaine's half-brother!
"Oh, wanna have a good fight?"
Chuuya Nakahara's eyes lit up—he wasn't averse to fighting at all; just like his love for motorcycle racing, fighting also made him feel excited.
He used to feel a real sense of existence only when he used his powers to fight back for the [sheep]. He was lost in his own confusion.
He doesn't reject enjoying the battle itself now, but the reasons for fighting are no longer the same as before.
“We don’t know the enemy’s internal intelligence yet, so it’s too risky to just rush in.” Ye Yihe shook his head slightly.
Just as he was able to devise a countermeasure to Verlaine's gravity ability, the opponent might also possess a powerful ability user or weapon capable of defeating Chuuya and his group. He meant that since the leader acted so arrogantly and no one cared, he must have some skills.
"Let's think of a way to get inside information about the port's Mafia first."
Ye Yihe rested his chin on his interlaced fingers in deep thought, when suddenly he remembered someone.
“Oda Sakunosuke, do you remember that kimono-clad samurai we met in the detention center?” He turned to Oda Sakunosuke and asked, “The one who managed to get us out of the detention center and give me legal status.”
“I remember.” Oda Sakunosuke nodded.
"Is there any way to find him?" Ye Yihe asked.
“…” After a moment of silence, Oda Sakunosuke shook his head. “If we knew his name, there would be a way. But I don’t know his name.”
He had only met the other party once before, and during the fight he realized that the other party was a very powerful martial arts master. They never exchanged names during the fight.
“I don’t know his name either, but I remember the boy who was with him at the time. His name was Edogawa Ranpo.” Ye Yihe had a particularly strong impression of him. “So, is there any way to find him? Perhaps we can find out the whereabouts of that kimono-clad samurai through him.”
“Ah, then I have a solution,” Oda Sakunosuke said. “Although I don’t know many people, there are one or two who run information brokerage businesses.”
After all, before assassinating high-difficulty targets, he sometimes needs to find ways to obtain a lot of detailed information about the target, and finding information dealers on the black market is a very cost-effective business, saving him a lot of energy.
"Then I'll leave it to Odasaku."
Ye Yihe clasped her hands together and winked at him.
Pushkin, watching from the sidelines, was dumbfounded, his pupils trembling slightly—this was still his boss!?
It's a hallucination, it must be a hallucination.
He looked at Ivan—"Why do you still have that smiling expression? Aren't you surprised at all?" Pushkin couldn't help but lower his voice and ask the fanatic who was still staring at the BOSS with that utterly fascinated look in Russian.
"When you saw our boss's... expression, didn't you feel even the slightest bit surprised?!"
Are you questioning my loyalty to my supreme master?
Ivan glanced at him indifferently. "You should be glad that your master is in a good mood right now, and so am I—otherwise, I would have hung you off the cliff for half an hour."
Pushkin: "...I was just a little surprised, I didn't say you were disloyal...Of course, I remain loyal..."
His colleague is hopeless.
However... well... he also admitted that his boss's action was quite cute, after all, he had a handsome young face.
Because the port mafia is searching for Nakahara Chuuya, and they don't want to alert him, he hasn't been able to go out lately and can only stay on the sofa playing games and reading comics and novels.
Pushkin would also play games with him during his breaks from training.
Fortunately, the building was in a remote location, and he never liked to take the proper route when he went out. He always used [gravity manipulation] to take shortcuts in the air, which is why even witnesses who saw him in the city couldn't say where he lived.
A few days later, Oda Sakunosuke successfully rescued someone, but...
After scrutinizing him for a long time while pinching his chin, Ye Yihe raised a question.
"Hmm... aside from the black hair, this guy doesn't look like Edogawa Ranpo at all..."
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