Soldier Boy raised his hand and held it in the air for a long moment before finally sighing. "Forget it. I'll let you off."
He knew full well that this was most likely Frenchie's idea. Kimiko was simplehearted and had probably been talked into it.
"Stop fucking screaming. You're not going to die."
Still angry, Soldier Boy kicked Frenchie in the ass.
He knew exactly how much force he had used. It would hurt, but at worst, it would leave minor injuries and a week of discomfort.
Kimiko blinked, sighed in relief, and retreated to the corner.
Soldier Boy walked over to the table, picked up the two remaining unopened bottles of liquor, glanced at the three of them, and coldly declared:
"You three are cleaning the toilets for a week. No arguments."
Only after his footsteps faded into the distance did Kenji get up off the floor, dust himself off, and exchange an awkward look with Frenchie.
After dealing with the three liquor thieves, Soldier Boy returned to his room, sat on the couch, and sank into thought.
"That fucker Frenchie even dared to steal from me. Looks like I need to come up with something."
He was Soldier Boy, for crying out loud, yet people could walk into his room and take his things whenever they liked.
Soldier Boy frowned, deciding that he needed someone to guard his door.
As he thought it over, a name suddenly came to mind: Pete.
The corners of his mouth slowly rose, and he muttered to himself:
"If I chain him up outside the door, won't that give me someone to guard it?"
Meanwhile.
Pete had taken leave to recuperate at home. Black Noir had truly terrified him, to the point that he woke with a start several times each night,