Chapter 22: What Do You Intend to Do to My Sister?

The indifference and cold stares of those around them subtly emboldened Mori Ni and the others, their arrogance growing, their words becoming reckless.

“Little sister, come with us for dessert.”

“Haha, I’ll treat you to chocolate bars.”

The three of Kamikawa Chie were frightened, especially Muroya Mie who trembled in fear—when suddenly Mori Ni spoke.

“Little sisters, since you’re silent, that means you agree. Then let’s go.”

He pulled his hand from his pocket and reached toward Kamikawa Chie and the others.

The others stepped closer as well.

Their actions terrified Kamikawa Chie and the others.

“W-we don’t want to go for dessert,” said Mizushima Iori, her voice trembling as she saw Mori’s hand drawing near.

Mori Ni paused slightly, then laughed: “No dessert? Then something else is fine too.”

He had no intention of backing down; Mizushima Iori’s words only stoked his cruelty, making him even more unreasonable.

“Little sisters, look how sincere we are—don’t ruin our kindness. It’ll hurt us if you refuse.”

As he spoke, he grabbed Mizushima Iori’s wrist.

He was preparing to drag her away by force.

“Ah!” Mizushima Iori screamed as her wrist was seized.

The scream drew frowns from the onlookers, their pity deepening, murmurs spreading.

Yet no one stepped forward.

Those who had been about to intervene hesitated when they learned these youths were members of Japan’s yakuza.

Their impulse died instantly.

They sighed and chose to walk away.

After all, these girls were strangers. To provoke Japan’s yakuza over strangers, to invite trouble upon themselves—it wasn’t worth it. They could only choose to look away.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Mori Ni seized Mizushima Iori’s hand; the other youths, fired up like adrenaline addicts, cheered and egged him on.

“Come on, come on, let’s get something else—what do you like? We’ll treat you to anything.”

“Hahaha, that’s right.”

“Exactly! Look at all these people watching us invite you—you’re refusing? How embarrassing for us. How can you bear it?”

Someone imitated Mori Ni, reaching for Kamikawa Chie and Muroya Mie’s hands.

Slap!

Unexpectedly, Kamikawa Chie slapped away the hand reaching for her—and struck Mori Ni’s hand holding Mizushima Iori with even greater force.

Kamikawa Chie, with courage she didn't know she had, stepped in front of Mizushima Iori and Murota Mie.

“We’re not going…”

Kamikawa Chie was brave, summoning courage—but her voice trembled, her legs shook; inwardly, she was far from as brave as she appeared.

She was still afraid.

But she knew she had to step forward now.

She had to step forward.

Otherwise, Iori and the others would be hurt, and I’d bring trouble to Nisan.

Recalling the video from “File-NH137,” where Wang Zun displayed courage and unshakable composure, Kamikawa Chie bolstered her own spirit.

I am Nisan’s sister!

I cannot be cowardly!

Her actions surprised the gangsters; Mori Ni stared at his own hand, now slapped away, his expression stunned.

The next second.

The smile vanished; Mori Ni’s face darkened.

Kamikawa Chie’s defiance and loud refusal—seen not just by his own men but by everyone around—was a serious loss of face.

He stomped through a puddle, splashing water.

The old homeless man charged out.

Clutching his folded umbrella like a staff, he raised it defensively before Kamikawa Chie and the others.

The appearance of these street thugs had first stunned the old homeless man.

After all, who most loved to bully the homeless? Street thugs.

He feared them deeply—he had been bullied and mocked countless times before, always avoiding them when he saw them.

Even now, he was still afraid.

But this time, the old homeless man did not flee, because the ones being bullied were the little girl who had given him the umbrella.

The little girl had helped him.

He could not stand by and watch a good child suffer.

On this rain-lashed street, a strange scene unfolded.

A crowd watched three girls being harassed—yet only one homeless man stepped forward.

This scene was deeply ironic.

The onlookers included all kinds of people… students with good education, successful office workers, even a teacher who taught children.

Yet.

The only one who actually stepped forward to help.

Was a homeless man, starving and exposed to the elements.

The scene stirred a mix of emotions in all who saw it.

“Don’t bully these three little…” The old homeless man, soaked and shivering, began to speak.

Boom!!

Before he could finish, Mori Ni kicked him straight in the face.

With such force, the old man was thrown backward, clutching his stomach, collapsing to his knees.

His wrinkled face flushed red, veins bulging, too pained even to cry out—only dry heaves escaped him.

Those around him, merely watching, either covered their eyes or grimaced as if they felt the pain themselves.

That kick showed no regard for the man’s age at all.

“Old man!”

Kamikawa Chie hurriedly knelt down to help the old man, who was clutching his stomach and unable to rise no matter how he struggled.

But even though the old man was thin, he still weighed seventy or eighty pounds—a middle school girl lacked the strength to lift him.

Seeing the old man’s agony, Kamikawa Chie’s face turned pale with fear.

She desperately wished someone nearby would help—even if not her, at least lift the old man.

“Who…”

Kamikawa Chie’s body jolted; her words cut off abruptly. She looked up sharply at the crowd, her pupils wide with disbelief, lips tightly clenched.

She had heard the onlookers’ murmurs.

“What’s this homeless guy trying to prove? He’s insane.”

“See? This is what happens when you play hero. If I hadn’t held you back just now, you’d be lying there instead.”

“Wife, you’re right.”

“Tsk tsk—after that kick, that old man won’t die, will he?”

Not only did the crowd refuse to help—they blamed the old man, scolding him for being reckless, overestimating himself.

Yet the old man had only tried to help someone…

Mori Ni walked over, face dark, looking down at the old man:

“You’re just a deadbeat homeless guy. I’m chatting with little girls—what are you playing hero for?”

His mood had turned violent, disturbed by the interruption.

He raised his foot again, aiming to kick the old man.

In Japan, homeless people were lower than the poor—especially now, with severe aging, old homeless men were everywhere, dying daily.

If one of these old beggars was beaten to death, he’d rarely be prosecuted.

After all, old homeless men were already frail and sick; the attacker, if skilled enough, could hire a lawyer and fabricate medical evidence of preexisting conditions—plenty of excuses to escape guilt.

Boom!

A sharp crack, followed immediately by a sharp, hissing intake of breath.

Kamikawa Chie, without warning, had picked up the umbrella she had given the old man and swung it hard at Mori Ni’s kicking leg.

It struck his shin squarely!

Mori Ni gasped in pain, clutching his leg, hopping backward on one foot.

He lost his balance.

Stepped into a puddle, fell hard onto his back, soaked in rainwater from the ground.

“Mori Ni!”

“F***, you little bitch!”

The other youths froze, stunned.

When they recovered, they roared, rolling up their sleeves, lunging for Kamikawa Chie to avenge Mori Ni.

And Sen Ni was helped up.

Seeing that he had been struck by a girl and was now covered in dirt, he roared in fury.

“Ma De, you little bitch, how dare you hit me? I bought you dessert, and this is how you repay me? Beat the hell out of this brat.”

Sen Ni shook off those trying to help him, raised his hand, and swung it toward Kamikawa Chie.

“Chie!!”

Mizushima Iori and Komuro Meijiang turned pale with fear; Sen Ni’s slap came too fast for them to shield Kamikawa Chie.

Kamikawa Chie was equally terrified, knowing she couldn’t dodge, she covered her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

In that moment, her fear expanded infinitely, reaching absolute terror.

Others around her also closed their eyes.

Sen Ni’s blow was powerful; landing on a girl, it would surely leave her bruised and swollen.

Hm?

Mizushima Iori, Komuro Meijiang, and the others were puzzled.

Why was there no sound of the slap?

Even Kamikawa Chie was confused—why hadn’t she been hit yet? She had already braced herself for the pain.

She opened her eyes and saw, besides Sen Ni’s foot, another person standing before her.

Without thinking, she looked up; her pale face instantly lit up with excitement.

“Nii-san!!”

Kamikawa Mitsu had appeared out of nowhere, one hand holding an umbrella, the other gripping Sen Ni’s arm.

He lifted the umbrella, revealing the face it had concealed.

His expression was cold, his dark eyes coated in frost.

“You want to hit my sister?”

……

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