The silence stretched out for a long moment before everyone started finding urgent business elsewhere in the warehouse. Kazuma watched them scatter, then turned back to his chair with a sigh. The truth was, Koji hadn't been completely wrong. Kazuma was jealous, more jealous than he'd ever been in his life. But that didn't mean he was going to do anything about it. He had his pride, after all.
He was just settling back into his brooding when the warehouse door slammed open again, this time with enough force to make the whole building shake. Kazuma looked up, expecting to see one of his crew returning with their tail between their legs, but instead saw a figure that made him jump to his feet in shock.
"Kazuma! My old friend!" The newcomer was practically bouncing with energy, his arms spread wide like he was about to give the world's most enthusiastic hug. "How long has it been? Six months? Seven?"
Kazuma stared in disbelief. "Ryouta? What the hell are you doing here?"
Ryouta Ashikaga was not someone you expected to see in an abandoned warehouse full of delinquents. He was tall and lean, with perfectly styled hair and clothes that probably cost more than most people made in a month. Everything about him screamed money and privilege, from his expensive watch to his designer sneakers. He looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine spread about wealthy young heirs.
Which, come to think of it, he kind of had.
Ryouta was the only son of the Ashikaga family, one of the most powerful and wealthy clans in the region. His father owned half the businesses in town, and his mother came from old money that went back generations. By all rights, Ryouta should have been attending some elite private academy, learning how to manage the family fortune and marry into another powerful family.
Instead, he seemed to spend most of his time seeking out interesting people and interesting fights.
"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by," Ryouta said, still grinning widely. "You know how it is, I get bored sitting around the family estate all day. Thought maybe you'd want to—" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes focusing on Kazuma's bruised face and bandaged knuckles. "Holy shit, what happened to you?"
Kazuma instinctively touched his cheek, where a particularly nasty bruise was still healing. "It's nothing. Just a disagreement with someone."
But Ryouta was already moving closer, his eyes bright with curiosity and excitement. "Nothing? Kazuma, you look like you got hit by a truck. And these aren't just random street fight injuries either." He gestured at the careful way Kazuma was holding himself, the subtle favoring of his left side. "Whoever did this knew what they were doing. This is precision damage."
"It's really not that big a deal," Kazuma said, but he could see that Ryouta wasn't buying it for a second.
"Not a big deal?" Ryouta laughed, but there was something sharp in his eyes now. "Kazuma, I've known you for one year. I've seen you take on five guys at once and walk away without a scratch. I've watched you fight opponents twice your size and make it look easy. You're one of the strongest awakened fighters under eighteen that I know of."
Kazuma waved his hand dismissively, trying to downplay the whole thing. "Look, it was just bad luck, okay? Wrong place, wrong time. It happens to everyone."
But his attempt to brush off the incident only seemed to make Ryouta more interested. The wealthy young man's eyes were practically glowing with excitement now, and Kazuma recognized that look. It was the same expression Ryouta got whenever he heard about some new challenge or discovered some fighter with interesting abilities.
"Bad luck, my ass," Ryouta said, grinning widely. "Someone actually managed to give you a beating like this? Someone around our age?" He clapped his hands together, looking absolutely delighted. "This is incredible! I have to meet this person."
"No," Kazuma said immediately, his voice sharp with alarm. "Absolutely not."
"Come on, don't be like that. You know how boring my life gets. Father wants me to spend all day in board meetings and etiquette lessons. Do you have any idea how mind-numbing it is to sit through a three-hour discussion about quarterly profit margins?"
"Ryouta, I'm serious. You don't need to mess with everyone."
But Ryouta was already pacing around the warehouse, his mind clearly racing with possibilities. "Think about it, Kazuma. If he's strong enough to do that to you, he must be incredibly powerful. What kind of abilities does he have? Is he a close-range fighter like you? Does he use weapons? Oh, this is so exciting!"
Kazuma watched his friend with growing dread. He knew that look, knew what it meant when Ryouta got that particular gleam in his eye. The problem with being the heir to unlimited wealth and power was that very few things could provide genuine excitement anymore. Normal challenges, normal fights, normal opponents—they all became boring after a while.
But someone who could actually challenge him? Someone who might be able to push him to his limits? That was the kind of thing that Ryouta lived for.
"Listen to me very carefully," Kazuma said, grabbing Ryouta by the shoulders and forcing him to make eye contact. "This isn't some game. This isn't one of your usual 'let's find interesting people to fight' adventures. This guy is dangerous in ways you don't understand."
"How so?" Ryouta asked, his excitement undimmed.
Kazuma struggled to find the right words.
Ryouta's grin only got wider. "Now you're really making me curious. Come on, Kazuma. Just introduce me. I promise I'll be good."
"Your definition of 'being good' usually involves challenging people to death matches."
"Only when they're worth it! And this guy sounds very, very worth it."
Kazuma looked at his friend—this wealthy, privileged, absolutely insane young man who treated life-threatening fights like other people treated video games—and felt a familiar mix of affection and exasperation. Ryouta wasn't a bad person, not really. He was just someone who had been born with so much power and privilege that normal rules didn't seem to apply to him. And when you added awakened abilities to that mix, along with a genuine talent for fighting and an insatiable hunger for new challenges, you got someone who was both incredibly charismatic and incredibly dangerous.
"I'm not introducing you to him," Kazuma said firmly. "And I'm definitely not telling you where to find him."
"That's okay," Ryouta said cheerfully. "I'll figure it out on my own. How hard can it be to track down the guy who gave Kazuma a beating? I bet he's already famous around here."
Kazuma felt a chill run down his spine. He knew that tone, knew that expression. When Ryouta decided he wanted something, he usually got it. And right now, what he wanted was to meet the person who had defeated Kazuma.
This was going to end not happily.