Thud!
A certain Fake-Haired Kotaro was sent flying into the air once again.
Though Fake Hair's behavior practically screamed "please punch me" from head to toe, after enduring thirty-seven rounds of iron-fisted blows, even the maid delivering them felt weak all over. Sogo Doma had gone from watching with great interest to being utterly bored. Though he had initially wanted to record everything, he was now too lazy to waste the storage space.
Even the onlooker had become like this, let alone the maid, who was already sore all over:
"Mr. Katsura, are you sure you want to continue?"
"A samurai may be knocked down, but he will never be defeated. Yoshimi, do not worry. I can still endure it..."
Fake Hair was a man who bore the soul of a samurai. Even when getting beaten up, he could wear the other person out first—at least, that was what Sogo Doma thought expressionlessly.
Maid Yoshimi: "..."
She was the one who could not endure any longer!
"Mr. Katsura, how about I call someone else?"
"Hahaha..." Kotaro Katsura laughed with his face covered in blood. "Yoshimi, do you wish to flee from this duel between samurai?"
Maid Yoshimi: "..."
No, she was not a samurai at all!
"Mr. Katsura..."
"Uh..." Before she could continue, the already-bored Sogo Doma suddenly cut in. "Are you two really okay with this?"
"What does this master mean?" Though he was merely voicing an opinion, Yoshimi looked as if she had seen a savior. She quickly turned toward Sogo Doma.
"Even if Fake Hair is pretty punchable, getting beaten like this should affect business at least a little..." As he spoke, he looked at the delighted people around them and ultimately did not finish his sentence.
"It might affect business for other people, but Mr. Katsura..."