I Was Possessed By An Unknown Manga

Sakagami Maou flinched at the sight of a strange person emerging from the darkness.

The man stood like a pillar.

His face was obscured by a khaki hooded jumper. He had an enormous physique that was immediately recognizable.

Moreover, his presence seemed to alter the very air inside the building.

He was literally on a ‘different level.’

Wiping the sweat trickling down his chin, Maou muttered.

“Koto, I can’t believe you had such a trump card up your sleeve.”

Having noticed him belatedly, Koto Kazuya, who was in the midst of a scuffle with his former subordinates, cried out in surprise.

A man whom even Koto Kazuya called Big Brother.

He was likely the former leader of Hyakki Yako.

Only the name of the first leader, known as the ‘Heisei Giraffe’, sprang to mind.

“Mishima Ryohei… The reincarnation of a living legend?”

“Who’s that?”

However, the hooded man shook his head, denying Maou’s grand assumption.

“Damn, then who the hell are you?!”

Embarrassed, Maou’s face reddened as he demanded, and the hooded man, scratching his head as if troubled, pointed at Koto Kazuya, who was fighting with Mito.

“Let’s just say I’m an acquaintance of that guy for now.”

Hearing that, Maou twisted his lips and said,

“Daring to side with Kaz in this situation, you’ve got some nerve. Fine! I respect that spirit and will make you an offer. Leave Koto behind and join me. Then, you’ll have the second-in-command position in ruling Tokyo and becoming the strongest biker gang.”

Upon hearing this, Mito, who was in the midst of fighting with Koto, shouted.

“Hey! That’s not what you promised!”

Then Maou, in a complete reversal, bellowed.

“Shut up! In the Devil Riders, my word is law and justice!”

Hearing this, Koto Kazuya shouted.

“Big brother! You mustn’t fall for his sweet talk! That guy would do anything for his ambitions! Even if you help him, he will surely cast you aside later!”

“Everyone else shut up! I’m talking with this man right now!”

Having said that and dismissed the others, Sakagami Maou extended his right arm toward the man who had been silently listening to his offer.

“Come on! What are you hesitating for? Join me and become a part of the strongest gang in Tokyo!”

Then, the man, who had remained silent from the beginning, quietly listening, finally spoke.

“How ridiculous.”

“…What?”

“Your mental age hasn’t progressed beyond that of a middle school second-year.”

The hooded man declared this and took a step forward.

Thud.

“What will you do once you become the ‘strongest,’ as you claim?”

“Power and authority will come! And I can make everyone weaker than me kneel!”

Thud.

“Even so, from an adult’s perspective, it’s just child’s play. They might overlook it now due to its small scale, but if you really rule Tokyo and the scale grows from hundreds to thousands, do you think the public authorities will remain silent?”

“Then I’ll just smash everything that comes my way!”

Thud.

Hearing that, the man chuckled, “Haha.”

Then, with cold eyes, he questioned Sakagami Maou.

“Do you really think you can defeat someone with a gun barehanded, you fool?”

“Uh…”

He found himself at a loss for words.

Thud.

Certainly, with just bikes, wooden swords, and iron pipes, they couldn’t stand a chance against a single gun wielded by the police.

In the end, no matter how hard you fight, you’ll be caught.

That was the difference between an adult’s fight and a child’s.

Thud!!

Now standing directly in front of Sakagami Maou, the towering man said,

“Release everyone here now. And hand over that guy Koto. I already have a prior arrangement, you see.”

Hearing this, Sakagami Maou, in a final effort to preserve his pride, forced a smug smile and asked,

“What if I say no?”

The man responded by slowly lifting his head and surveying the area.

Devil Riders.

An elite group personally assembled by Sakagami Maou, known for their overwhelming charisma.

Excluding him, who sported a shaggy cut to signify his leader status, 49 riders with mohawk hairstyles sat in uniformity, listening to the conversation between the two.

“If not…”

The man said, his hand rubbing his neck as if he faced a quandary.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to resort to force?”

That statement served as a signal.

It announced the beginning of an unreasonable execution at odds of 50 to 1.

“Haha! Vermin must be disinfected!”

“Foolish! Do you plan to take on these numbers alone?”

I observed the dozens of bikes as they chaotically circled around me.

Their movement reminded me of the Huajin formation in ancient Shaolin Temple martial arts novels.

Despite their chaotic circling, not a single bike collided, each maintaining a precise distance while spinning around.

Such accuracy and skill must have been honed by practicing relentlessly, perhaps after every meal.

They could have joined a circus with such talent rather than being part of a biker gang.

As I thought about their wasted potential, I took a bold step forward.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Suddenly, a steel chain whip flew towards me like a specter.

Instead of dodging, I extended my left arm, relying on the strength of the muscles I had built.

Whack!

The heavy chain struck my forearm, but it proved to be more bearable than I had anticipated.

Before the chain could retract, I wrapped it around my arm and yanked it back.

The man holding the chain lost his balance and was ejected from his bike.

“Hold on tight! I won’t take responsibility if you fall!”

I shouted this as I began to spin it, using centrifugal force.

The chained man, feet dangling above the ground, turned into a human flail and started knocking into his own teammates.

Like dominoes, the bikes tumbled into a heap.

This effectively disrupted the formation of the 49 Mohawks.

“Impossible! Swinging a person with one hand!”

“Is the guy they call ‘Brother of the Devils’ really a monster?”

After creating a makeshift barricade by knocking down the surrounding bikes, I calmly released the Mohawk I had been using as a weapon.

Then, perhaps overwhelmed by the motion, he immediately fell to the ground and started throwing up.

He should be considered incapacitated for combat.

I gestured to the remaining Devil Riders inside the makeshift arena formed by the pile of bikes.

“Those who want to die, come at me first.”

The Devil Riders hesitated, not daring to cross the barricade made of bikes.

In such a situation, guts and courage were most important.

For me, who had fought on equal terms with professionally trained former Russian soldiers, this fight felt like nothing.

Eventually, deciding they couldn’t just waste more time, the bravest among those with mohawk hairstyles took the lead and climbed over the wall.

I, already prepared, quickly approached and threw a jab.

This technique, which I had picked up by watching a fight with Sasha’s bodyguard, Boris, allowed me to efficiently knock down opponents in a limited time.

As the Mohawk who got hit squarely in the face fell backwards, bleeding from the nose, the next ‘guest’ arrived immediately.

This time, there were three of them.

Without panicking, I dodged backward, breaking their wooden sticks and hitting their wrists to make them drop the iron pipes that were difficult to block.

As their weapons disappeared, causing panic, I finished them off by generously giving each of them a jab.

I grabbed the collars of those who almost cracked their skulls from a single blow and threw them at those who were sneaking up from behind.

Then, as they clumsily tried to catch their comrade’s body, I used the gap to slip into their blind spot and launch a surprise lariat.

“Cough!”

My forearms, trained to the extreme, were like steel, so when we collided, it was the Mohawk guys who were flung back powerlessly, not me.

After I had swiftly defeated 8 of them despite their bravado, the Devil Riders began to stir uneasily.

Seeing this, their leader, Sakagami Maou, shouted out loud.

“Fools! Ultimately, even that ‘brother’ is human and has a limit to how many he can fight alone! Push with numbers!”

Encouraged by this, the Mohawks exchanged glances and then, all at once, climbed over the wall.

They clearly exceeded the capacity of the circular arena.

As I pondered how to escape the encroaching circle of Mohawks, a scream suddenly came from behind.

“Aaaargh!”

“Brother!”

Koto, with blood streaming from his head, swung a wooden sword in his right hand while holding the collar of Mito, who had become a lump of meat, in his left hand.

It appeared to be a trophy he had gained from defeating Mito.

“Use this!”

I thought the arrival of reinforcements at just the right moment was like something out of a manga.

No, since this was a manga world, perhaps this was appropriate.

Catching the wooden sword, which flew in a clean trajectory, with one hand, I turned slightly and said,

“Thanks, Koto.”

Then Koto, wearing a black special forces uniform embroidered with various words in gold thread, turned back.

And then, in a voice filled with firm resolve, he cheered,

“Be sure to win.”

Hearing that, I shifted the wooden sword from one hand to two, gripping it firmly.

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