Chapter 142: Inside the Club

As with previous encounters, the crowd of onlookers classified as “outsiders” was once again shut out from the karate club’s doors, their curiosity unceremoniously extinguished. Complaining was useless—what club would willingly allow outsiders to witness the potential embarrassment of being utterly defeated?

Among the persistent spectators, the most disgruntled were undoubtedly Takeda and Yoshikawa.

“We’re that guy’s friends. Can’t we at least get the privilege of watching?” Takeda protested loudly while kicking the karate club’s door hard.

“Let me break their window,” Yoshikawa said, producing a tennis ball-sized rock from who-knows-where.

“Hey, something that big could kill someone. Go find a smaller one,” Takeda said, showing a trace of reason.

“Hopefully, you two can fight off hundreds like Masashi does, or else you’d better be ready for the karate club to come after you every day. Just so we’re clear—I’m just an innocent bystander. Don’t try to drag me into this,” Shiraishi Akira said lazily.

“Let’s wait until tonight when no one’s around to break it. It’d be bad if we accidentally hit Masashi with a rock,” Yoshikawa said nonchalantly, tossing the stone into a flowerbed.

“You coward! Worst case, we replace their window afterward,” Takeda snapped.

Shiraishi, uninterested in the rebellious duo’s pointless chatter, focused instead on whether Masashi could safely make it out this time. Unlike the previous three clubs, whose combined numbers only barely exceeded the karate club’s, the sheer size of this group was deeply concerning. After witnessing Masashi’s fight scenes that were even more over-the-top than Bruce Lee movies, Shiraishi had concluded there was something inhuman about him. But this time, the numbers were overwhelming, making the outcome uncertain.

After nearly half an hour, the crowd began to thin out. Only a dozen or so students, determined to see the outcome, remained. Among them, Shiraishi noticed a few from the journalism club—likely hoping to get an exclusive report.

It was worth noting that for several days, the campus newspaper’s headlines had been dominated by Masashi’s matches and lengthy “injury memoirs” from the defeated. These dramatic accounts, filled with what seemed like blood and tears, further cemented the image of “Gennai Masashi” as a demon crawling up from the depths of hell. Ironically, thanks to Lei Yin’s unique contribution, the previously overlooked campus newspaper had become wildly popular, selling out as soon as it was printed, necessitating multiple reprints. The only person truly grateful to Masashi on campus was likely the journalism club president.

Another half hour passed, and even Takeda and Shiraishi began to worry. In the previous incidents, Masashi had only taken about ten minutes before emerging. This time, nearly an hour had passed. Could it be…

“Looks like that guy isn’t coming out this time. Damn it, I bet money on him winning,” one student grumbled.

“I told you he wouldn’t end well. You’re an idiot for betting on him. Isn’t it obvious? The karate club is the largest after the basketball and gymnastics clubs. No matter how strong he is, he couldn’t possibly take down that many people at once.”

“What the hell are you two idiots talking about? Say that again, I dare you,” Takeda, impulsive as always, charged over, ready to throw punches.

“What does this have to do with you? We weren’t even talking about you,” the two students said, visibly nervous as Yoshikawa strolled over behind Takeda.

“Doesn’t matter. Hearing you talk annoyed me,” Takeda said, his recent exposure to Lei Yin’s unrestrained rampages leaving him with excess energy.

Yoshikawa, playing along, casually cracked his knuckles one by one, mimicking the dramatic flair of Kenshiro from Fist of the North Star.

The two students, unwilling to escalate the situation, quickly fled in a panic.

Takeda smirked triumphantly as he watched them retreat.

“We can’t wait any longer. We need to go in and see what’s going on,” Shiraishi Akira said firmly.

The other two nodded and headed toward the club’s main entrance.

After knocking on the door for a while with no response, Yoshikawa retrieved the discarded rock from the flowerbed.

“What are you doing? This isn’t the best time to smash windows.”

“Idiot. Haven’t you ever seen a movie? The best way to open a locked door is to smash it with something heavy.”

“You’re the idiot. Isn’t kicking it simpler?” Takeda said, delivering a solid kick to the wooden door.

The door creaked, showing signs of loosening.

As Takeda prepared for another kick, the door suddenly opened. Standing there wasn’t Masashi, as the trio had hoped, but a karate club member in uniform, wearing a white belt.

Seeing the club member, the trio’s expressions shifted. This didn’t look good.

Takeda immediately regretted letting Masashi go in alone. He realized now that his confidence in him had been a bit too blind.

“You must be friends of Mr. Gennai. Our president has invited you inside,” the club member said politely, surprising them.

The karate club, being the third largest club on campus, had a massive training hall nearly one and a half basketball courts in size. At the far end, there was even a small lounge and meeting room. The club member led them to this meeting room.

Along the way, they noticed that none of the club members seemed injured. They were practicing their punches and kicks as usual, showing no signs of having been in a fierce fight.

“What’s going on?” Takeda thought. Even if Masashi had lost, it shouldn’t have been without taking down at least a few people. He was convinced these guys must have resorted to some underhanded tactics. He didn’t dare imagine Masashi’s current state, and a wave of anger and grief surged in his heart.

Yoshikawa’s expression was also conflicted. Though his relationship with Lei Yin wasn’t as close as Takeda’s, he had grown to genuinely like the guy over the past few weeks. Being around him felt easy and carefree.

In Japanese society, hierarchy is deeply ingrained—even within universities. Watching the club member knock lightly on the door, one might have thought the person inside was the president of a prestigious corporation and the club member was a subordinate.

“Come in,” said a voice Takeda recognized as Nakai Soma’s. Realizing even Soma seemed fine only fueled Takeda’s frustration.

The club’s meeting room was clearly well-funded. Inside was a set of genuine leather sofas styled after Italian designs, with spotless wooden floors and a polished, tidy appearance. A white porcelain tea set rested on an oak coffee table, and the host was currently using it to entertain a guest.

When they saw who the guest was—casually sipping tea—Takeda and Yoshikawa’s jaws almost hit the floor.

“Why are you sitting here drinking tea?” The rebellious youth, who had just been worried sick about his friend’s safety, now felt a surge of indignant rage.

“Why shouldn’t I be drinking tea here?” Lei Yin countered calmly.

“Weren’t you invited here for a PK match? Why are you so comfortably seated, enjoying tea?” Takeda finally erupted. He had spent so long worrying about Lei Yin, only to find him casually enjoying an afternoon tea. The rebellious youth felt deeply wronged.

“After exercising, of course, you need to rest. Soma happened to mention he had some excellent tea leaves and wanted to serve me, so I stayed. If you guys hadn’t been causing such a ruckus outside, I wouldn’t have let you in. After all, this tea was bought with their club funds, and as a guest, I wouldn’t feel right letting you in without permission,” Lei Yin replied matter-of-factly.

“Mr. Gennai…” Nakai Soma said awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you used club funds to buy premium tea leaves and high-end tea sets,” Lei Yin assured him.

Nakai Soma smiled wryly. He regretted ever mentioning it to this guy.

“What exactly is going on here?” Takeda and Yoshikawa were baffled, seeing two people who had just been ready to fight to the death now chatting like friends.

After Nakai Soma invited the three of them to sit, he poured them each a cup of tea.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Gennai, for your mercy earlier. Thanks to you, none of the members, including myself, were injured,” Nakai Soma said to Lei Yin, while also implying this information to the other three.

“I treat others the way they treat me. Since you didn’t act like the other three clubs, who, when they couldn’t win in a one-on-one fight, rushed in to gang up on me, I treated this as a simple sparring match, where you took turns sending someone to challenge me,” Lei Yin said, developing a certain level of respect for Nakai Soma.

“Although many rumors have been circulating about Mr. Gennai, our karate club isn’t a place that spreads baseless gossip. After thoroughly investigating the situation, we realized those rumors were fabricated. However, after witnessing Mr. Gennai’s skills, as a martial artist myself, I really wanted to spar with you. If I have offended you in any way, please forgive me. I fully respect Mr. Gennai’s martial abilities,” Nakai Soma confessed.

“Please, you’re just a student. You sound a little too mature for your age. Though you seem older than you actually are, it’s not to the point of being an old man,” Lei Yin said, realizing he had somewhat strayed off topic.

Takeda and Yoshikawa both felt an overwhelming urge to roll their eyes. This guy was really no one to sympathize with.

“Alright, it’s getting late. Let’s go,” Lei Yin said, stretching as he stood up.

“Mr. Gennai, as a token of our appreciation for your guidance, our karate club will do its best to clarify the truth. I hope you will accept our offer,” Nakai Soma said, also standing.

“Do as you like. I don’t mind what others say. As long as their mouths are theirs, they can say whatever they want. If it’s too much of a hassle, I suggest you don’t bother. I really don’t mind. Worst case, we just fight a few more times. Well, no need to see us out,” Lei Yin replied.

“You are always welcome to visit the karate club again,” Nakai Soma said as he opened the meeting room door.

When Lei Yin and Takeda stepped out, neatly dressed, the members of the journalism club who had been waiting at the door cheered. They had already thought up tomorrow’s headline: Godzilla Sweeps the Karate Club—Who Will Save Tokyo Today?

“What’s with them?” Lei Yin asked, confused by the overjoyed members.

“Who knows, maybe they were just overwhelmed,” Takeda guessed casually.

※※※

In the Tokyo Police Headquarters, in the operations room on the third floor, a police officer in his thirties was explaining the action plan to his colleagues, seated around the conference table, using a projector.

“The higher-ups are taking this case very seriously. To avoid causing panic among the citizens, they’ve asked us to solve it as quickly as possible. So, if no one has any objections, please follow this plan. During the operation, officers in each district must coordinate and maintain communication at all times,” Watanabe Muramasa paused and said.

“I have a question.” Suddenly, a cold female voice echoed in the dimly lit conference room.

“Please, Ms. Ayano,” Watanabe said, acknowledging the speaker.

“Why are all the bait for luring that killer disguised as female officers? According to reports, that perverted, bloodthirsty man doesn’t have a specific preference for targeting women. Or does Police Inspector Watanabe believe that women are easier to attack and, therefore, better suited as bait?”

Her question stirred some murmurs among the officers, with a few casting suggestive smiles.

Watanabe Muramasa’s expression grew a little awkward. He cleared his throat and said, “Ms. Ayano, this is part of the plan, and the higher-ups have already approved it.”

“Is this the higher-ups’ decision, or is it your personal suggestion, Inspector Watanabe?” Ms. Ayano’s voice rang out again.

Feeling cornered by the second confrontation, Watanabe was getting irritated. Just as he was about to speak, a male voice interrupted from the side:

“I personally think it’s questionable to assign female officers to such a dangerous task. Although other officers will be stationed nearby during the operation, there’s still a risk of unforeseen events. I believe it would be better to have male officers take on the role of bait. I hope Ms. Ayano doesn’t think I’m being sexist,” said Maeda Ryutaro in a deep voice.

The other officers dared not dismiss the opinion of Maeda Ryutaro, a veteran with extensive experience in solving cases despite not being part of the professional track. Soon, several officers voiced their agreement with his suggestion.

“Since there are objections to this detail, I’ll discuss it further with the higher-ups. As for the rest, does anyone have additional comments?” Inspector Watanabe instinctively glanced in the direction of Ayano Eiko.

Fortunately, she didn’t bring up any more uncomfortable questions, and Watanabe felt a sigh of relief in his heart.

After leaving the meeting room, Ayano Eiko walked up to Maeda Ryutaro and asked, “Mr. Maeda, would you like to join me for a drink?”

“I recall someone once saying it’s a sin to refuse a lady’s invitation. I’d be honored,” Maeda replied with a smile.

“I didn’t expect Mr. Maeda to develop a sense of humor. It seems your wife deserves the credit,” Ayano said with a faint smile.

“Eiko, do you have a moment to talk?” Inspector Watanabe walked over to her.

“Sorry, I’ve already made plans with Mr. Maeda. Maybe next time. Shall we go, Mr. Maeda?” Ayano Eiko’s expression was cold.

After nodding respectfully to Inspector Watanabe, Maeda followed her out. Watanabe could only watch helplessly as she walked further away.

※※※

In a café outside the police station, Ayano Eiko stirred her steaming coffee absentmindedly.

“Mr. Maeda, what kind of person do you think the killer is this time?”

Maeda put down his coffee cup. “Honestly, this killer is… peculiar.”

“Peculiar?” Eiko was unfamiliar with the term in this context.

“Though it goes against a professional officer’s perspective, I think this killer isn’t just some deranged murderer. I can’t even be sure the killer is human.”

“Mr. Maeda, you’re confusing me with that statement.”

“You’ve probably read the autopsy reports on the victims. Like me, you must have been struck by the bite and claw marks on the bodies. Initially, I thought the killer might be using fake teeth and clawed gloves. But as the number of victims grew, I began to doubt my judgment. Especially with the fourth victim, my suspicions deepened. That victim’s right thigh was twisted off with immense force. Can an ordinary person twist the leg of a struggling adult male like that?” Remembering the autopsy photo, Maeda temporarily lost the urge to drink more coffee.

“Are you suggesting that monsters might actually exist?” Eiko felt as though they were discussing a movie script.

“Without any witnesses or evidence identifying the killer’s appearance, I don’t want to jump to conclusions too quickly. Regardless, we must approach this case with extreme caution.”

“Thank you for the warning, Mr. Maeda.” Eiko highly respected Maeda Ryutaro for his unwavering principles, integrity, and refusal to curry favor with superiors—qualities she greatly admired.

“This might sound a bit strange, but you remind me of someone. No, actually, she resembles you more since she’s younger. It’s not your appearance, but your aura that’s similar,” Maeda suddenly said, shifting the topic away from the case.

“May I ask who that is?”

“My stepdaughter. Her name is Kazumi, and she’s a first-year student at Teikyo University.”

“Then she would technically be my junior,” Eiko said with a smile.