A professional crew

"Were you the one causing trouble outside?" A man with slicked-back hair and a cigar sat on a black leather sofa, radiating self-importance as he addressed Baicang outside the door.

The lackeys behind him immediately spread out, blocking Baicang's path.

The sight actually pleased Baicang.

Now that's more like it! This is what gangsters should look like. What were Kenta and Onibi Maru supposed to be? Neither could even write, and they were obsessed with motorcycles. They were a disgrace to the word "gangster"!

By comparison, the Yamato Group was so professional. Now these were gangsters worth fighting! Baicang burst out laughing.

For some reason, ever since he had started using his superpower, he had craved fighting and bloodshed more and more.

Excitement coursed through him. He charged straight ahead, sending the men blocking his way flying with punches and kicks.

Other lackeys quickly filled the gaps, stubbornly blocking his advance.

A few grabbed watermelon knives and slashed at Baicang, but they were too slow. They couldn't even touch his clothes, much less put him under any pressure.

Against men with knives, Baicang wasn't as gentle as before. Rather than merely breaking their legs, he kicked them hard enough to break their third legs.

One lackey hurled his knife at Baicang in a furious fit of humiliation. Baicang snatched it out of the air, then charged into the crowd and hacked wildly, wielding the watermelon knife as though he had acquired a divine weapon.

Baicang didn't know the Watermelon Knife Style, but his speed and strength more than made up for it. Although he only cut one or two men, the whistling blade he swung around scared the other lackeys too much to approach.

Seeing his men's disgraceful performance, the boss on the sofa angrily threw his cigar to the floor and exchanged a meaningful look with several other lackeys.

They immediately understood his expression. One drew a pistol, aimed at Baicang as he swung the knife, and fired.

The instant Baicang saw the gun, he reacted and dodged the bullet. The lackey behind him wasn't so lucky-a single shot from his companion took him out.

"Where's your sense of fair play?!" Baicang shouted as he dodged bullets.

Bang, bang, bang! Seeing that the shot had missed, the others drew their guns as well and fired wildly at Baicang.

Baicang could dodge even the mushroom monster's dried mushrooms, so naturally, these bullets didn't frighten him. He had been watching everyone in the room, trying to identify the "Lord Black Tiger" the people at the casino had mentioned.

Baicang figured Black Tiger was the Yamato Group's protector whom Kenta had mentioned, and also a Professional Hero. He just didn't know whether the man was A-Class or B-Class.

Unfortunately, he still hadn't spotted him. Apparently, the man wouldn't appear until the very end.

Baicang was done playing around. He charged straight at the gunmen, weaving through the bullets under their incredulous stares. In an instant, he circled behind them and swept them off their feet with a kick, then stamped on their hands a few more times.

"Aaagh! Aaagh!" The lackeys on the floor clutched their broken hands and screamed in agony. Baicang showed no mercy to people who wanted to kill him.

Seeing another man reach for a gun, Baicang flashed to his side and snatched it away. He crushed the barrel flat right in front of the man, then handed it back.

By then, the Yamato Group's boss was trying to relight his cigar, but the hand holding his lighter wouldn't stop shaking.

When Baicang turned his gaze toward him, he screamed in terror, "Black Tiger! Black Tiger! Get out here!"

Something whistled through the air.

Sensing danger, Baicang dodged backward. Bang! A length of oversized water pipe embedded itself at an angle in the spot where he had just stood.

"Quick reflexes." A burly man dressed in a boys' high school uniform stepped out from behind the door.

"Black Tiger?" Baicang asked, looking at the hulking man whose muscles nearly burst out of his clothes.

"Hahaha! That's right, yours truly! The hero ranked eighty-eighth in B-Class, Delinquent High Schooler, Black Tiger!" The burly man pulled the pipe out of the floor, rested it on his shoulder, and laughed.

"Delinquent High Schooler..." Looking at Black Tiger's face, which could easily pass for that of a middle-aged man, Baicang had no idea how he had gotten that title.

"Aren't you a hero? Why are you helping the Yamato Group?" Baicang couldn't understand it. Someone like this could be a hero?

"Hmph! You think being a hero is easy? I'm so much stronger than those ordinary people. Why should I protect them? They should be serving me!" Black Tiger scoffed at Baicang's question.

"I... forget it. I can't be bothered to reason with you. You don't deserve to hear it." Talking villains into submission wasn't Baicang's style. He might as well beat the man to death and explain it to his corpse.

Baicang rushed forward and threw a punch. Black Tiger snorted and swung his pipe to meet him, only for Baicang to suddenly retreat toward the lackeys lying on the floor. He picked up a pistol and fired wildly at Black Tiger.

"You dirty bastard!" Black Tiger hurriedly blocked the bullets with his pipe. Getting shot would only leave him with minor injuries, but bullets lodged in his muscles would interfere with his fighting.

Clang, clang, clang! Once Baicang emptied one gun, he switched to another. There were plenty on the floor, after all.

Seeing Black Tiger block every shot, Baicang had to admire him. A B-Class Hero really did have some tricks up his sleeve. Then Baicang used his own bizarre superpower.

Gurgle... Black Tiger went pale and almost failed to block a bullet. He sank to one knee, clutching his stomach as cold sweat poured down his face.

This makes no sense. Was there something wrong with today's tonkotsu ramen? Damn it, why now of all times? When I get back, I'm definitely going to teach that owner a lesson, Black Tiger thought miserably.

Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle! The intense pressure made it almost impossible for Black Tiger to lift his pipe. The hand clutching his stomach shifted around to his backside.

Meanwhile, Baicang kept firing as he slowly crept closer from Black Tiger's blind spot. He was just about to reach Black Tiger, who was hiding behind the pipe.

"Watch out!" the Yamato Group's boss shouted, having spotted Baicang's scheme, warning Black Tiger.

He would have been better off keeping quiet. The shout startled Black Tiger into scrambling upright. Seeing Baicang poised to ambush him, he swung his pipe at him with all his might-and that exertion ruined everything.

Pfft.

Black Tiger's uniform trousers bulged and changed color, while a foul stench spread through the room.

An expression of utter despair appeared on Black Tiger's deathly pale face, and the pipe fell from his hands.

Baicang gave him a pitying look, then punched Black Tiger, who had already lost the will to live, sending him flying. He lay motionless on the floor, with only his backside still making deliveries.

Watching Baicang approach, the Yamato Group's boss sank into despair. He scrambled up from the sofa and tried to run, only to step on his discarded cigar and fall right in front of Baicang.

Baicang watched the wig sail through the air, then looked at the bald man playing dead on the floor, his heart a jumble of emotions.

I actually thought you were professional gangsters. How naive of me. Birds of a feather really do flock together. Every gangster around here is the same damn kind of idiot.

"Get up." Baicang kicked the Yamato Group's boss out of his act and pointed the gun at his gleaming bald head.

"You've got three minutes. Hand over every last bit of your money!"