I Started a Lover-for-Hire Service, And For Some Reason, Only Beautiful Girls Are Requesting Me - Chapter 78: Resolving the Dispute

“…Thanks.”

Ryoma expressed his gratitude to Aira’s classmate, the girl with the regional accent who had guided him here. He didn’t look at her directly, speaking as he walked ahead.

The members of the “Hot Guy Sightings” LINE group had proven to be highly efficient. The first person to witness the scene had immediately spread the information. Another member had gone straight to inform a teacher. And one had quickly located Ryoma, relaying the location to him without delay.

It was their large numbers that enabled such coordination.

Ryoma laid eyes on Aira and Makoto. He hesitated not even for a moment, showing not the slightest sign of fear.

Aira’s decorative devil wings lay scattered on the ground. Her twin-tail ribbons had been undone. Her hair was disheveled—she must have struggled desperately. Makoto’s face twisted with perverse delight as he clamped a hand over her mouth. At the sight, Ryoma felt his blood boil.

Someone reveling in the torment of the weak—there was no way he could ignore such a thing. And there was no time to wait for the teacher to arrive.

Ryoma had only one thought: I will save Aira. Nothing else matters.

Even so, he remained calm enough to assess the situation. But holding back was not in his vocabulary.

“Hey, don’t mess with me.”

“Hah?”

Makoto had been so focused on dominating Aira that he failed to notice how close Ryoma had gotten.

By the time he turned to look, Ryoma was already in striking range.

He clenched his dominant hand, his muscles tensing.

Ryoma was no amateur—he knew exactly how far his reach extended.

Though two ranks below Kanon, he was a trained karateka, having studied for three years in middle school and earning a rank. He had taken a break since then, but muscle memory was not so easily forgotten.

As a trained fighter, excessive force could be deemed unjustifiable, and Ryoma could end up shouldering the blame.

He needed to make sure he stayed within a safe limit—not just for himself, but for Aira and Kaya as well.

“—Hmph!”

“Gwah!?”

Ryoma’s first strike was a no-motion attack, all his strength focused on neutralizing Makoto.

His knuckles, bones protruding slightly from the force, snapped forward in a fluid motion, landing a fierce blow to Makoto’s cheek. A heavy thud rang out.

It was a Bara-te strike—a karate technique.

Fingers spread, striking with the back of the hand, it temporarily blinded the opponent—a self-defense maneuver designed to create an opening.

Martial arts were not for revenge.

Nor for showing off.

They existed to strengthen oneself and to protect.

“Gah… ugh…”

Pain shot through Makoto’s skull, his vision swimming.

Ordinarily, this would be the moment to flee.

But Ryoma had no such intentions.

He was going to make Makoto regret everything he had done to Aira.

He was going to completely subdue him.

“Hah!”

Ryoma forcefully shoved Makoto in the chest, knowing his vision was still hazy from the Bara-te strike. As Makoto’s balance shifted backward, Ryoma used his dominant foot to execute a sweeping kick.

With the precision of cutting grass, he swept Makoto’s legs out from under him with full force.

“Ugh…”

For a brief moment, Makoto must have felt an unnatural sensation—his lower body floating weightlessly. But it lasted only an instant.

“—Oww, damn it!”

There was no room for sympathy in his pained cry.

As Makoto crashed violently onto the asphalt, Ryoma moved to restrain him without hesitation.

He pressed his knee into Makoto’s chest, applying his full weight.

Now mounted atop him, Ryoma had complete control over his pinned opponent.

Aira and her classmate watched intently, witnessing his smooth, practiced movements.

Ryoma had subdued an opponent of equal stature with astonishing ease.

“Aira, go call a teacher.”

“…”

“Aira! Hurry!”

“Y-yeah!”

Aira, momentarily captivated by Ryoma’s effortless movements, only responded after his second call.

Though someone had already gone to get a teacher, Ryoma decided it was best for Aira to explain the situation herself—and more importantly, to get her away from the scene.

If Makoto’s mind spiraled into a destructive “to hell with it all” mindset, he would become truly unpredictable.

By removing Aira, Ryoma reduced the chances of Makoto breaking free and prevented further harm.

Now, only three people remained: Ryoma, the girl with the accent, and Makoto.

“You son of a…! That freaking hurt!”

“Think, even with that tiny brain of yours—who’s really the piece of trash here? Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

With Aira no longer present, Ryoma allowed himself to show his raw, unfiltered anger.

He wasn’t kind to everyone.

And now, he had no need to hide that.

Even as Makoto thrashed, Ryoma kept his knee pressed down, forcing a conversation neither of them wanted.

By applying pressure to his chest, Ryoma limited Makoto’s ability to fight back. Still, he remained hyper-aware of Makoto’s fists, ensuring he had no chance to retaliate.

One moment of carelessness could mean an opening for Makoto.

Until the teacher arrived, Ryoma could not afford to let his guard down.

His nerves were stretched thin, but he refused to surrender his dominant position.

“Who the hell are you?! You know what you’re getting yourself into, right?!”

“Big words for someone in your position. Can’t even grasp the difference in power here, can you? Ma-ko-to… huh?”

“Hah?”

Makoto let out a bewildered sound when Ryoma accurately called his name.

“You should be able to see my face clearly by now.”

The Bara-te strike’s effect only lasted a short while. As Makoto’s vision focused, he finally recognized Ryoma, his eyes widening in shock.

“Y-you… Ryoma!?”

“Good memory. …But I’ll never forget you for as long as I live.”

The two locked eyes, taking in each other’s changed appearances after three years.

“Hah! So you’re just using this as an excuse to get back at me, huh? Pretending to save that gyaru? That’s pathetic. You’re the one who screwed up with Kanon in the first place!”

“And you think you have the right to talk after what you did to her? Your attempts at taunting me are embarrassing.”

“…”

No matter what was said, Ryoma remained unfazed. Losing his composure, even for a moment, would be the greatest mistake.

“This isn’t about settling old scores. Aira is my partner. There are limits to the kind of crap I’ll let slide. What were you planning to do after you covered her mouth?”

“I—I wasn’t gonna do anything!”

“Like hell I’d believe anything that comes out of your rotten mouth… This is something that can’t be forgiven… And I won’t forgive it.”

“Then go ahead, hit me! Come on, do it!”

Makoto puckered his lips, squinting mockingly, contorting his face into an exaggerated sneer to provoke Ryoma.

The moment Ryoma struck a defenseless opponent, he could be held legally accountable. Even with his dull mind, Makoto knew that if he got hit first, he’d “win” in a twisted way.

“…Your provocations are as pathetic as the rest of you. Martial arts aren’t for picking fights or taking revenge. You picked the wrong guy, I’m no amateur.”

“Damn it—get off me!”

Makoto threw a punch at Ryoma’s face—except he was low on oxygen. His movements were sluggish, telegraphed. Even if Ryoma hadn’t been trained, he could have dodged it with ease.

Ryoma grabbed the right side of Makoto’s neck and twisted it sharply.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!!”

“Consider this karma. You do something bad, it comes right back to you. I bet your parents are going to be real proud. Good luck finding someone to defend you.”

“…Damn it, damn it…!”

“And which one of us is the real scumbag? Aira had been looking forward to today. And you just had to ruin it.”

Ryoma’s icy glare bore into him as he applied more pressure.

“Aaaaghh!! It hurts! It hurts!!”

“The teachers will be here soon. You’re going to be restrained. So until then, suck it up and deal with the pain.”

“Quit screwing around!!”

Makoto flailed his legs, trying to land kicks on Ryoma, but they were weak. None had the force to make Ryoma loosen his hold.

“Wonder how people will react when they hear an alumnus did something like this. Well, get ready to have a nice little chat with the police. This will follow you for the rest of your life. You hurt my Aira—this is only fair.”

“Kuh—let go of me, bastard!”

“The more you struggle, the worse it gets. Even if you die, I’m not letting you go.”

“Gh…!”

Ryoma bent his leg even further, driving his now even sharper knee into Makoto’s lungs. He pressed down with more of his weight, eliciting a strained, painful sound from Makoto’s lips.

Overwhelmed by the need to protect himself, Makoto’s resistance faded. And in that moment—

“Sensei, over here!”

“Hurry up, Sensei!”

Aira and another male student called out.

Next came three male teachers.

And then—dozens of students, forming a crowd of onlookers.