Everyone Here Is Trash

The playground was shrouded in dark clouds.

Sing Sing was still wearing his Zhongshan suit and stood in the center, his hands hanging naturally at his sides.

The scene was truly spectacular, with people crowding around the playground on all sides.

The delinquents from grades one to three, along with the main members of the clubs and the scattered members, huddled together in a dark circle.

There were shirtless men, men carrying baseball bats, men wielding chains, and even men clinging to desk and chair legs as weapons.

A cursory glance reveals at least five hundred, if not a thousand.

No one made the first move; everyone was looking at each other, waiting to see who would be the first to charge.

On the left side of the crowd, several third-grade delinquents stood in a row with their hands on their hips. The one in the lead, with dyed red hair and a thick chain around his neck, nodded towards Sing Sing Chow.

"Hey! Hoshino Seiichi! Should I call an ambulance for you? Otherwise, we might not even have time to get you out of the way!"

A burst of laughter erupted behind him.

Sing Sing's gaze swept from left to right, his eyes calm. "Don't take what I'm about to say to yourselves."

He raised his right thumb and gently brushed it across the tip of his nose, then shifted his feet in a staggered stance to assume the starting position.

I'm not targeting you personally.

He pointed at the redhead, then drew a semicircle with his arm, encompassing everyone on the playground.

"I mean, everyone here is trash."

The playground was quiet for two seconds before erupting into a frenzy.

Kill him!

Kill this bastard!

"Baka!"

"Chikusho!"

"Nisunai!"

Seventy or eighty people surged forward at the same time.

The first to rush over were six first-year students, all of whom were reserve members of the Judo Club.

The first one was short, stocky, and sturdy; he lunged at me with a low center of gravity, intending to take me down.

Sing Sing lightly touched the ground with his toes, causing the short, stocky freshman to miss his target.

The second punch comes from the side.

Sing Sing gently tapped the fist with the heel of his right hand, deflecting it onto his companion's shoulder.

Two first-graders bumped into each other, tripped, and ended up stacked on top of each other.

Behind me, a guy swung a chair leg down at me.

Sing Sing leaned forward slightly, the chair leg brushing against the back of his head's hair as he missed, and then delivered a sharp side kick that struck his opponent squarely in the abdomen.

In just a few seconds, all six of them were down.

With his left hand reaching down to his lower back, Sing Sing pulled out nunchucks and tucked them under his arm.

He let out a strange cry and beckoned with his finger, "Next batch."

Outside the playground, Mitsuhashi Takashi and Ito Shinji squeezed behind a human wall, standing on tiptoe to peek inside.

"It's all over! It's all over! He really went all out by himself! He's insane! A complete and utter madman!"

"Don't tug at my sleeve, look closely, he's still holding nunchucks and hasn't even made a move yet."

"That's what makes it even scarier! What if that stick was saved to beat us?"

Saeko Busujima stood at the edge of the crowd, holding a bamboo sword.

Instead of squeezing in, she chose a spot with a clear view of the entire venue.

The wind tousled her long, deep purple hair, and her eyes followed Sing Sing's every subtle movement without blinking.

She's countering their moves.

The direction of the teacher's weight shift before striking, the angle of force exerted by the heel of the palm when contacting the opponent's limbs, the sequence of contact between the soles of the feet and the ground when the feet moved sideways... all of these were etched into her mind.

Find the texture and start from the point where the stress is weakest.

The Bobby the first.

A dozen or so second-grade delinquents spread out in a fan shape, holding baseball bats and iron pipes, and one of them even had a bicycle chain.

They flanked him from both sides, attempting to limit Sing Sing's movement space.

The tall leader waved an iron pipe, directing the two flanks to close in.

Sing Sing wielded his nunchucks, ducked to avoid the iron bar, and the tips of the nunchucks struck the back of his opponent's hand holding the handle, causing him to drop the handle on the spot.

He hooked the iron rod with his toe and flicked it behind him, sending the rod flying and striking the thug who had ambushed him from behind in the abdomen.

Three people rushed up from the left at the same time.

Sing Sing glided between the three men with a butterfly step, his left elbow pushing open the chest of the nearest one, and his right hand, wielding nunchucks, struck twice, hitting the shoulders and backs of the knees of the remaining two men.

The three people fell to the ground one after another.

The four men on the right hesitated.

Sing Sing glanced at them but didn't say anything.

The four men exchanged glances, threw their weapons on the ground, and retreated back into the crowd.

"Terrific."

Sing Sing Chow sheathed the nunchucks at his waist. "There's an old China saying: 'A wise man submits to circumstances.'"

There were about ten people lying on the ground, but none of them were bleeding.

Under the shade of a tree on the south side of the playground, Genji Takiya leaned against the tree with his arms crossed.

Serizawa Tamao, swaggered over from the other side. "When are you planning to go?"

"No rush."

Genji Takiya's gaze never left the figure on the playground.

"Let the underlings test the waters first. If he can't even handle this many men, it's not worth my personal involvement."

Serizawa scoffed, "Ha! There are five hundred people there! Why don't you go and try?"

Aren't you watching it too?

"I'm just watching the show; I can't beat him." Serizawa took a biscuit out of his pocket and put it in his mouth.

"To be honest, he controlled his strength very precisely."

Genji Takiya nodded. "Not a single person was seriously injured from beginning to end."

The windows on the second floor of the administration building face the playground.

Kumiko Yamaguchi rested her hands on the windowsill, with Eikichi Onizuka standing beside her.

Onizuka leaned out of the window, exclaiming in amazement, "Teacher Xiaomei, this transfer student in your class is so amazing!"

"It's arrogance," Kumiko Yamaguchi corrected him.

"Arrogance and ferocity are not contradictory."

Onizuka's eyes were full of admiration for his junior. "I did something similar when I was young, dragging along the Shonan Bōsōzoku gang to challenge them at the school gate. But at least I brought fifty guys with me when I did that."

"He dares to take on the entire school by himself; I, Eikichi Onizuka, am utterly defeated."

Of course!

Your biker gang is nothing more than local smurfs in the eyes of her "Ōedo Family".

This Hoshino Seiichi has taken down dozens of people in her organization!

Those guys aren't like these students; they're all really good fighters!

The third wave of people was noticeably more organized than the first two waves.

The three main members of the Karate Club, Inoue Panghu, the Aikido Meimiya Akihiro, and the Judo Club's captain, Kimura Okuma, formed a triangular formation.

Behind them followed a dozen or so members from their respective clubs, totaling more than thirty people.

Inoue Panghu cracked his knuckles.

"Hoshino, don't blame us for being unsportsmanlike! You said you'd take on ten of us at once!"

"Thirty is the same."

Kimura Okuma roared and launched the first attack, his judo-style grabbing motion aimed straight at Sing Sing's collar.

Sing Sing leaned back just as his palm was about to touch his collar.

His back was almost parallel to the ground.

Kimura Okuma's five fingers swept across him, only to grasp a wisp of air.

Before Kimura could even regain his footing, Sing Sing had already straightened up.

He clenched his right fist and delivered a powerful, short-range blow to Kimura's chest.

Kimura Okuma, weighing 180 pounds, was knocked back four steps by a single punch, crashing into his own group and knocking down three people.

Meimiya Akihiro cut in from the right, using fast and tricky wrist-twisting techniques from Aikido.

Sing Sing used his nunchucks in his left hand to deflect his opponent's arms.

Ming Gong's joints were locked by the stick, and he was pulled toward the ground.

Without saying a word, Inoue Panghu threw a punch straight at him, Sing Sing thrust his staff forward, the tip of which met directly in his fist.

All three main groups were defeated, and the members behind them looked at each other in bewilderment.

On the outside of the crowd, a girl with a high ponytail stood by the flower bed, holding a schoolbag.

Kobayashi Amiko was just passing by.

The arrogant declaration on the radio made her think it was just some delinquent acting out of chuunibyou (middle school syndrome).

But the man she had met once before was fighting in a way she had never seen before.

It looks like... adults are disciplining a group of children?

Why are you looking at me like that! You're calling me trash?!