Vol 1 Chapter 2: The Kickboxer Abandoned by Pro Baseball (Prologue: Encounters Arrive with a Sense of Déjà Vu)

“Found you, Rei Uruha’s damn bitch! You ain’t getting away now!”

A man with twist-up bangs and tea-colored hair—adorned with a sinister silver skull accessory around his neck—stood tall at around the mid-180s, slender and imposing, leading two other men.

The team Rei Uruha, dedicated to crushing delinquent gangs, was formed by Miyayuri—my lifesaver, my bad friend, and the woman I fell for.

After many twists and turns, I became an official member of Rei, and together with Miyayuri, we’ve taken down countless delinquent gangs.

So, although team Rei has earned the grudges of delinquent gangs, if anyone were to be targeted it should be me. But perhaps because we look alike, this guy seems to be mistaking Rurei for Miyayuri.

Still, this guy seems familiar, as if I’ve seen him somewhere before…

“I mean… the cops are still patrolling, you know? If you start brawling here and get caught, what are you gonna do? Hurry up and get out of here!”

Does she not realize she’s being mistaken for someone else?

Rurei dismissively waved her hand as if shooing away a dog.

“Hah! As if I’d be scared of the cops! Don’t give me excuses just because you wanna run!”

“Really… do you not understand that it’s thanks to the cops that you guys got saved?”

When Rurei’s eyes suddenly sharpened, her very aura—even her vibe—started to resemble Miyayuri’s.

However, I couldn’t let her, who clearly didn’t understand the situation, get dragged into this.

I stepped in front of Rurei to protect her.

“What? Kid! Are you seriously trying to protect me?”

Rurei’s voice rose in shock.

“Rurei-san… was it? I guess these guys are after me, so I won’t drag you into this. You get out of here.”

“Gyahahaha! You little shorty! What, did you think you turned into a knight or something?”

The guy with twist-up bangs and his men started laughing, pointing at me.

“Ahahaha! You… maybe you’re just showing off because you wanted to touch my boobs?”

Not only the men but even Rurei began laughing at me.

…What a lame situation.

“Alright, that’s enough. I’ll handle this, so you get out of here.”

“No way! I absolutely refuse to submit to delinquents♪”

Does she not realize how dangerous this is?

I tried to persuade her to run, but she wouldn’t listen.

There’s no helping it. I guess I have no choice but to take them on.

I fitted the inner gloves—known as simple bandages, which I kept in my chest pocket—onto both hands.

Rurei and the men all fixed their intrigued gazes on me.

“Hey! I know that! That’s the open-finger glove, right? Are you planning to use it?”

“You idiot. They might look similar, but they’re different. Those are inner gloves meant to be worn inside boxing gloves. I use them in practice, too.”

The guy with twist-up bangs already knew what I was putting on.

“Heh… So, are you going to use them too?”

I asked him, “By using them, do you mean you’ll be engaging in martial arts?”

“Yeah. I’m set to make my pro debut this month. I’m Aida Makoto.”

I recognized that name.

I see—no wonder it sounded familiar.

“Heh… So you’re the ex-baseball player who was drafted into the pros but got dropped because of a scandal?”

Aida Makoto.

He was drafted 4th by the Saitama Eastern Jaguars, and his entry into the team was nearly confirmed, but just before signing, his unlicensed driving was discovered, and his pro debut was lost.

His notoriety wasn’t limited to being given the infamous nickname “Bousou no Narubissho”; he frequently caused trouble with unlicensed driving, smoking, and fighting, and his behavior was widely reported in weekly magazines, forcing the Jaguars to forgo signing him.

Later, without any remorse in his SNS posts—and with statements that basically burned bridges with his benefactors and fans—he sparked a controversy. As if capitalizing on his villainous persona, he caught the attention of a kickboxing organization called ROSE, and without ever competing in an amateur match, he was set to make his pro debut after only a few months of experience.

“Hahaha! You little shorty are probably scraping by as an amateur, huh? I have talent, so unlike you ordinary folks, I don’t need any amateur experience.”

Well, if this guy really is that Aida, then I’ve got a lot to say to him—he’s just the right opponent.

“Fine then. Amateur me is ready to lend you my chest.”

I checked the grip on my simple bandages and then assumed a stance toward Aida.