I practiced as a monk alone in Japan.

Chapter 91 Treat them well (Second update!)

"That's it?"

When Asagiri Rin saw Tsukino Gen place a copy of "Mountain Flowers" in front of her, the photo of the two of them on the cover seemed particularly jarring.

She couldn't help but frown slightly.

I don't quite understand why he would leave this thing behind and specifically give it to me.

Gen Tsukino nodded.

"Yes, Saionji-senpai asked me to bring you a copy. You can return it to her if you don't want it; I've delivered it to you."

"How many books did she give you?"

Rin Asagiri suddenly asked this question.

Gen Tsukino looked into her eyes and said honestly, "Two books."

"You'll keep one?"

"Of course, you wouldn't want something given away for free?"

"You didn't give it to me when Kazama Sakura was here, why are you giving it to me now?"

The atmosphere wasn't right.

Upon hearing this answer, the girl couldn't help but scoff.

"He's clearly guilty and afraid she'll see him, isn't he?"

“What’s there to be ashamed of? One photo doesn’t mean anything. Besides, even if it didn’t come from me, she could have seen it from somewhere else. There’s no question of covering it up.”

This seems to be the case.

However, his behavior was still suspicious, but Asagiri Rin didn't intend to dwell on it. It was pointless.

People can generate powerful motivation from persistence, but they can also lose their original selves in the process. She doesn't plan to change herself for anyone for the time being.

"Are you alright? I'm going home."

She stood up, casually tossing the copy of "Mountain Flowers" into her schoolbag.

Tsukino Gen looked at her, "How are the photos?"

The girl raised an eyebrow proudly, "A photo with me in it is bound to look good, but having you in it is the only flaw."

Gen Tsukino couldn't help but laugh and said, "I wasn't talking about the photo on the cover."

"That is..." Before she could finish speaking, Asagiri Rin realized what photo the other person was referring to—the one sent to her by Self, showing the horizon under the night sky.

A moment of dissatisfaction arose from the slight ripples in my own emotions.

She quickly composed herself and calmly looked directly at Tsukino Gen.

"These are good photos. You can learn more about photography techniques from Saionji. If you're interested."

She knew perfectly well that the boy wouldn't be interested in photography.

She also knew why he took pictures of the ocean for her.

However, she didn't explain any of this; the lack of explanation was a form of burying.

The boy seemed to understand what the other person meant. He nodded and said, "I'm leaving. Goodbye."

They might even be the first to leave.

When Asagiri Rin was sitting in the car on her way home, the boy was long gone.

Today's time together was short, and we spoke very little, with only a handful of direct conversations with Tsukino Gen. But it was unexpectedly peaceful.

There were no arguments, no blushing, and no talk of the past. They acted as if they had just met, not particularly close.

But somehow, she couldn't resist taking the book "Mountain Flowers" out of her bag. She looked at the two people on the cover.

That's right, talking about random things is better than endlessly discussing the past and getting stuck on it, isn't it?
……

The place, shrouded in smoke like the morning mist in the mountains, is not some paradise on earth, but a mahjong parlor where the sound of mahjong tiles being struck constantly echoes.

The crew-cut man, smoking a cigarette and wearing a t-shirt, stared nervously at his cards.

Large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, and although the fan was on in the mahjong parlor, it seemed unable to dispel the heat he felt.

The heat is caused by extreme nerve excitement.

Looking at his hand.

He was confident that he would be the biggest winner of the night, a solo run by four dark figures.

He was only missing the last 40,000 tile, and he knew exactly where it was. The mahjong machine in front of him could shuffle the tiles to his advantage, and his teammates could easily relay the tile order to him.

Therefore, the outcome of this game was predetermined from the very beginning.

Even if he let the exceptionally handsome young man sitting across from him win a few more hands, it didn't matter; it was just an appetizer to give him a taste of success.

Only in this way can one keep placing heavy bets, getting people hooked. This is how the thrill of gambling is generated; the adrenaline rush to the nerves makes him forget the dangers of the world.

I heard you won against quite a few people nearby? That's useless anyway.

The moment he entered the mahjong parlor, he was as good as walking into a trap, just waiting for the hunter to tie the bag.

The boy calmly picked up the card.

That's right, it's that 40,000!

How much debt will he incur? Will he be able to pay it back? It doesn't matter. Because there are gamblers who can't pay their debts, and of course, some use their families, some sell their possessions, and use everything they have to pay off their debts, which seems to offer some hope.

But it's useless.

Because in the end, he will force them into a corner, leaving them with no choice but to give up their most valuable possessions.

Those vibrant organs.

He certainly wouldn't take over these things himself; they were the responsibility of a vast network of vested interests, with 'professionals' purging their own escape routes. His task was simple: identify prey, set traps, and, if necessary, resort to coercive measures.
Play this card that will sacrifice your entire life!

His eyes were practically burning with fervor.

Suddenly at that moment, the boy opposite him glanced at him.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

he asks.

The man paused, then frowned. "Let's see why you haven't started yet. It's the last round, stop dawdling!"

"You've already lost so much, and you still expect to turn things around in the last game?"

The boy didn't seem to be in a hurry; instead, he asked with a hint of mockery.

The man sneered, "No one knows the outcome until the game is over. Besides, you know that these games with escalating stakes get more exciting towards the end."

"It was indeed quite exciting."

"Hurry up and play your cards! What are you dawdling for! If you win, you take it all; if you lose, it won't kill you!"

"I won't fight anymore."

The 40,000 coin that the boy held did not fire as the man had hoped; instead, it stopped in front of him.

The man was taken aback, seemingly not understanding what she meant.

"Not playing anymore? Are you sick? Do you think this is child's play? Once you've participated in tonight's card game, there's no such thing as regretting it!" He glared fiercely at the boy opposite him, seemingly intending to use his imposing manner to force the other party to play the winning card, the four of characters.

But the boy just smiled and looked up at him.

"I didn't say I was backing out and wouldn't play anymore, I meant this card can't be played."

"what?"

"Sorry, I messed up."

Done.

He laughed and pushed the cards in front of him over.

"Self-draw, no 1s and 9s".

"."

The crew-cut man stared blankly at his cards, the glaring 40,000 placed to the side, the only missing one.

A simple "no-1s and no-9s" hand, or even a "no-1s and no-9s" hand without any standard winning combination!
Take another look at your cards.

Four Dark Knights Alone. This is a full-fledged four Dark Knights Alone!

The young man stood up nonchalantly, stretched his neck, and said, "The last round is over. I had a great time tonight. Can we settle the score now?"

"Wait a moment!"

The man with the buzz cut slowly stood up.

He looked at the nonchalant young man, his eyes like those of a hungry wolf.

"What else?"

"You cheated."

The man said coldly.

At the same time, he took out his phone from his pocket and said into it, "Keep an eye on the outside door and don't let anyone in or out."

At that moment, distinct footsteps came from inside. Clearly, there were quite a few people hiding inside from the beginning.

The other two players, who were also playing cards, looked terrified and nervously tried to find a place to hide, but they couldn't find anywhere. They could only lean against the wall, not daring to make any rash moves, and watched the two people facing each other.

The boy's eyes widened slightly.

"What makes you say that? It's just good luck, what does that have to do with cheating?"

nonsense!

Even my cheating mahjong machine can't beat yours, what other explanation do you have besides cheating?!

Of course, the crew-cut man wouldn't be foolish enough to say that out loud.

But he certainly couldn't let the boy leave like that, even though it would make things look bad and would definitely affect the reputation of the place to some extent. He was really angry at the moment.

Lao Tzu's Four Hidden Inscriptions!
asshole!

At worst, we can close the shop for a few days or move to another location; we can still do business.

As for the handsome young man in front of him...
"I said you're out, so you're out! Hold him down!"

With a furious shout from the man.

From the inner room came five or six strong young men carrying steel pipes and other weapons. Each of them had a different appearance, but they were all clearly of a delinquent nature.

When they came in, the whole mahjong parlor became very crowded, even though no one else was playing that night.

The young man standing there smiled unchanged. "Are you planning to force a confession? That's not very proper, is it? You'll lose your reputation in the underworld."

Word of mouth?

You know nothing about the ways of the world!

What is the "path"? It's when people are willing to betray and kill anyone in order to make money and gain status. That's what the "path" is!
He was too lazy to waste words with the boy, so he lit a cigarette and opened the door behind him.

"Just knock him out, then send him directly to the boss and tell him this batch of goods is excellent."

After saying that, he lit a cigarette and went outside.

This was a bankrupt repair shop, which I took over and turned into my hideout. With so many people inside and out, I couldn't just rely on mahjong to make money.

Besides gamblers, there are also drug addicts. Sometimes he even wonders to himself, looking at the media reports, the world seems to be getting better every day, but is it really getting better?
Countless shadows continue to haunt the horrific dark events that unfold.

For example, the sounds of fighting that erupted from the room behind me at that moment.

He frowned. "Why make such a fuss over a child? If their internal organs are damaged, this whole thing will be a financial loss."

He wanted to turn back and remind those people not to cause trouble under the guise of venting their boredom, but he hadn't even reached the door yet.

"Crench."

The door opened.

He looked up and never expected to see the handsome young man's face.

There was no blood or wounds on him, not even a slight tangle of his short hair. He was looking at me with that smile that I found utterly repulsive.

"It's boring, they're not even as sturdy as mahjong tiles."

Fiber, solid?
Filled with inexplicable and extreme fear, the man strained to look behind the boy.

That one glance nearly scared him out of his wits.

Because he saw inside the house, the people lying haphazardly were all his own people, whom he had paid to support and even developed a bond with; they were quite loyal!

Although his skills cannot compare to those of a true professional assassin, how could he possibly be defeated by this boy who looks like just a student?
He just can't think about too much right now.

He used all his strength, turned around in a disheveled state, and ran frantically.

"Help!! Someone come quick! Help!!"

At night, it sounded like a terrified wolf howling.

"boom."

But what he received was neither his help nor any reinforcements.

As if he had been struck hard on the back of the head by a bullet, his mind went blank and he lost consciousness.

The man, with his head tilted, saw clearly in his hazy consciousness.

The one that landed beside him, smashing into his head, now stained with blood, was indeed the 40,000, the only flaw of the four-hit single-rider weapon.
Who is he?
Why would someone do something like this?

Despite his seemingly harmless appearance, he felt as if he had encountered a demon!
Where are the people you assigned? Why are you so quiet?
Quiet as
"Crack!"

Suddenly, countless car lights lit up, so bright that it was almost impossible to open one's eyes.

When the sound of leather shoes reached his ears, the man strained to look and saw an unfamiliar face.

She is a smart and cool-looking female police officer in a police uniform.

She looked down at herself, her expression one of judgment.

"A scumbag like you should be grateful for my existence so you have a chance to live, but don't be too happy yet. I can put a lot of inconveniences on you and treat you well."

……

(End of this chapter)