Tokyoites don't have martial virtue

This was a short man, barely 1.6 meters tall, dressed in a kendo robe with bamboo armor on his shoulders. His face was covered by a white demon mask, resembling a hannya, and his blood-red fangs were truly terrifying.

Most alarmingly, the short man carried a single-edged katana at his waist, making him look like a cosplayer dressed as a samurai.

Suzumiya Kame also noticed the short samurai. She instinctively took a step back and joked with Kyushu Makoto:

"Is there some kind of 'samurai exhibition' going on nearby? Why would someone be dressed like that?"

Kyushu Makoto's heart suddenly began to race. His martial arts intuition told him that this short samurai exuded a strong aura of ferocity.

"Momiji-nee, come here quickly." Kyushu Makoto gripped the umbrella and said repeatedly, "Step back behind me."

Whether this person is a samurai cosplayer or not, it's always good to keep your distance from such strange people.

"Okay, I got it~" Suzumiya Kame was also startled by the strangely dressed man. She pouted and turned to walk towards Kyushu Makoto.

In the blink of an eye, the short samurai suddenly drew his katana from his waist and rushed to Suzumiya Momiji's side.

Suzumiya Kame was startled by the other party's abrupt action and stood there stunned for a moment.

"call out--!"

The blade gleamed as it was drawn, flashing a blindingly cold light under the streetlights—with just one glance, Makoto Kyushu recognized that this was not some cosplay prop weapon, but a genuine metal samurai sword, which is a controlled knife!

"Women are all bewitching demons, deserving of divine punishment!" The short samurai raised his katana high, and a hoarse, inhuman shout came from beneath his mask.

"Momiji-nee, back off!" Kyushu Makoto's eyes widened in fury, every nerve in his body snapped open, and he grabbed his umbrella and sprinted toward her.

"Pfft-!"

Kyushu Makoto was too late. Despite Suzumiya Momiji's instinctive attempt to retreat step by step, the short samurai's blade still struck her squarely in the chest.

The sound of flesh tearing rang in my ears, and crimson liquid splattered erratically, mingling with the pale light.

Kyushu Makoto faintly smelled a pungent, fishy odor mixed with a subtle, refreshing scent of maple leaves.

Suzumiya Kame was slashed to the ground, clutching the bloody gash on her chest in agony. Seeing that she was not dead, the short samurai raised his katana high again, preparing to cleave her neck.

"You beast, I'll kill you!"

Just as the blade was raised above his head, Kyushu Makoto rushed into the short samurai's arms, first using his umbrella to brace the samurai's sword-wielding arm, and then raising his arm to deliver a powerful elbow strike to the samurai's chest.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud came from the short warrior's chest, and a deep, strange cry escaped his throat as he staggered back five or six steps.

Kyushu Makoto quickly glanced at Suzumiya Kame, who was lying on the ground. She looked like she was in great pain, her chest heaving violently. The knife had probably cut to the bone, but fortunately it hadn't killed her instantly, and there was still a chance to save her.

Who exactly is this samurai-clad thug, and why did he attack Momiji? Was it a targeted revenge killing or a random act of revenge against society? Kyushu Makoto was filled with confusion.

What puzzled him most was that when he used his elbow to strike the thug, he didn't feel any sensation in his sternum at all; instead, it felt like he had hit a solid muscle.

But there was no time to think about those issues right now. What he needed to do was save Sister Hua and subdue the knife-wielding assailant.

Since the other party intended to kill first and even attacked Sister Huazi... even if such a person is accidentally killed, it is his own fault.

Once the diminutive warrior regained his footing, he assumed a fighting stance and let out a monstrous growl.

Kyushu Makoto held the umbrella in front of him for defense, while simultaneously taking out his phone and activating the SOS emergency call function.

Hello, what happened?

"We have been attacked by knife-wielding thugs. One person is seriously injured and needs emergency medical attention!" Kyushu Makoto shouted into his phone, then reported his current location.

Before he could finish speaking, the short samurai raised his sword and charged at Kyushu Makoto.

"Those who obstruct me shall be punished by the heavens!" the short samurai roared hoarsely, raising his sword to slash at Kyushu Makoto's face.

Kyushu Makoto decisively threw his phone, which landed on the other person's blade.

The vertically slashing blade was deflected. Kyushu Makoto stepped forward, swung his umbrella, and hooked the other's arm with the curved handle. He then leaned in close and stomped hard on the other's toes with his heel.

Strangely, the other person's toes didn't feel like they had any bones; they were just made of pure muscle.

"Ugh!" The short samurai tried to push him away, but Kyushu Makoto quickly pulled out a pair of craft scissors and plunged them all into the other man's chest.

Immediately afterwards, Kyushu Makoto tightened his shoulders, suddenly exerted force and sank down, his entire body weight driving the scissors down from the other person's chest.

It was another strange muscle sensation; he couldn't feel the bones at all. But Kyushu Makoto couldn't care less about that now. He had to subdue the thug in the most brutal way possible and then give Suzumiya Momiji first aid so she wouldn't die before the ambulance arrived.

The scissors ripped downwards quickly, cutting all the way to the assailant's abdomen before getting stuck. Kyushu Makoto simply twisted the handle, causing the plastic blade to break off inside the assailant's body.

The short samurai's kendo uniform was torn, revealing eerily pale purple skin that looked like that of a corpse.

Surprisingly, not a drop of blood flowed from the samurai's wound inflicted by the scissors. Instead, a small amount of black smoke drifted out, and the wound itself was a bottomless black.

Kyushu Makoto was taken aback. The short samurai kicked him away, and the two took a few steps back and separated.

"What kind of monster are you?" Looking at the other party's strange black wound, Kyushu Makoto's heart felt like it had been squeezed, and it started pounding wildly.

His common sense told him that the guy in front of him could not be called a "human" at all, but some kind of monster that looked like a human.

"Heavenly Punishment!" The short samurai acted as if nothing had happened, completely oblivious to the deep wound in his chest, and once again raised his katana to attack Kyushu Makoto.

"A monster..." Upon seeing this scene, Kyushu Makoto suddenly felt a sense of fear, as if his heart was being squeezed by a withered hand.

This is the instinctive reaction humans have when faced with the unknown.

Kyushu Makoto already had the intention to retreat; he had no confidence in defeating this "unknown" enemy.

So, should we run away? Kyushu Makoto thought to himself.

Yes, at this point, it's best to turn and run. When facing an enemy you're not confident you can defeat, running away is the right thing to do... that's what his master taught him.

As for Sister Huazi... sorry, let her fend for herself.

Negative thoughts of giving up kept surfacing in Kyushu Makoto's mind. His dopamine secretion began to be suppressed, and both martial arts and intuition were frantically sending him the message to "run away."

"But... she said she's going to Kyoto, to find a proper job, and to live a normal life," Kyushu Makoto murmured in a trembling voice, his hand holding the umbrella shaking slightly.

"Wouldn't all our efforts have been in vain if she died?"

The short samurai's sword was already slashing towards his face. Kyushu Makoto gritted his teeth, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, and quickly lowered himself to pounce into the other's arms.

"Thud." The blade struck Kyushu Makoto's back—fortunately, his sprint was fast enough that only the lower middle section of the blade left a shallow mark.

"You damn beast, why should she die! You're the one who should die!"

Kyushu Makoto roared, ignoring the pain from the knife cutting his back, and grabbed the short samurai by the crotch, intending to throw him to the ground.

106. Suzumiya Momiji

Kyushu Makoto's takedown was completely unexpected. The short samurai was very light and was immediately knocked down, forced to grapple with him on the ground.

This was the battle strategy that Makoto Kyushu came up with in a moment of inspiration—no matter what kind of monster the opponent was, as long as he could drag him to the ground to fight, Makoto Kyushu would have the opportunity to use joint locks that were strong enough to break the opponent's limbs.

He wanted to see if this monster could still swing its sword and hurt people even if its limbs were broken!

Kyushu Makoto coiled around the short samurai's body like a python, and used his umbrella to press down on the samurai's wrist holding the sword, preventing him from swinging his blade in retaliation.

"You're the one who should die! Hahaha, go to hell!"

As he fought this unknown monster at close range, Kyushu Makoto's heart was already consumed by fear, yet he continued to spew out maniacal laughter from his throat, his features becoming terrifying and grotesque.

If you feel fear, laugh out loud. Even when fighting against unknown monsters, laugh out loud. Even if you are scared to tears, laugh and cry at the same time. Only in this way can Makoto Kyushu have the courage to continue fighting.

Moreover, he absolutely could not give up on Sister Huazi like this, nor could he forgive the villain who hurt her so badly!

The short samurai was indeed not good at ground combat; at least he was no match for Makoto Kyushu, who had learned jujitsu in his previous life.

The two rolled around on the ground like a crocodile and a python, and Kyushu Makoto seized the opportunity to mount the other and grab one of his arms.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Kyushu Makoto pressed down on the samurai's shoulder and bent his arm in the opposite direction, forcefully twisting it to execute a "double wrist lock".

The double wrist lock, also known as the "Kimura lock," is a joint lock technique aimed at breaking the opponent's humerus and shoulder joint. No matter how strong a fighter is, this move can easily cripple an arm, thus causing them to lose the fight.

"What kind of move is this? My hand!" The short warrior quickly struggled in pain, letting out low growls.

"Shut up, you motherfucker! Cut it off right now!"

Kyushu Makoto suddenly exerted his strength, and a crisp "crack!" sound came from the samurai's arm as it twisted and bent in an astonishing manner.

However, Kyushu Makoto had no intention of letting him off so easily. He was already in a frenzy of fighting, continuing to pull and twist violently, as if he wanted to take off one of the monster's arms first!

"Sizzle—!" With a piercing tearing sound, one of the monster warrior's arms was actually ripped off. Dark purple skin and black flesh were torn apart like soft bread, and black mist slowly emerged from it.

"Hehehe... Leave your hands here so you can never use a knife again in your life~" Kyushu Makoto forced himself to stay insane so that he wouldn't lose his fighting spirit from being frightened by this bizarre scene.

He threw away the torn-off arm and prepared to grab the other person's other arm.

Perhaps due to exhaustion, Kyushu Makoto's second joint lock failed. The short samurai writhed and struggled like an eel, seizing the opportunity to punch Kyushu Makoto in the face, then suddenly twisted his body and thrust his hips forward.

Kyushu Makoto lost his balance and was knocked off.

The short samurai quickly crawled out from under Kyushu Makoto, staggered to his feet, and picked up his katana.

Just as he was about to pick up the severed arm, Kyushu Makoto quickly got up and kicked the severed arm away from the ground.

"Hehehe... What are you picking up~? I'm going to tear all four of your limbs off." Kyushu Makoto's tone was as ferocious as a butcher's. He hunched over and swung his umbrella toward the other person.

The short warrior hesitated, instinctively taking two steps back, not daring to confront him head-on.

After a brief standoff, the short warrior took a deep breath and emitted a muffled, strange sound from his throat:

"This man is a true demon! Alas, I have been defeated!"

Having said that, he didn't even bother to pick up his severed arm, and turned to run away in a disheveled state.