My transformation into a beautiful girl started with a hemorrhage.

Chapter 279 Martial Force

After school in the afternoon.

Hui and Kouta parted ways at the fork in the road leading to the dance club and the school gate.

Kouta prepared to go to the shop where he worked, as usual.

They had just left the school.

Three young men with hostile expressions surrounded Kouta.

They stopped less than a meter away from Kōta. The three men, with their fierce expressions, made the surrounding atmosphere solemn just by standing there.

The man in the very center was muscular, with a buzz cut, and wore a black T-shirt. His bare arms and shoulders were covered in tattoos, though the details of the tattoos were obscured by his back. He also had pierced ears adorned with two metal rings. His eyes, even when looking straight ahead, exuded a violent aura. He was dressed in the typical gangster attire, so much so that passersby instinctively kept their distance from him.

Beside him were two henchmen who clearly followed him, one with dyed yellow hair and the other with dyed green hair, both with fierce and ruthless appearances.

The three of them were all taller than Kouta, which was normal, since Kouta was still growing, but the three of them were already in their twenties.

The tattooed man in the middle said with a hostile look, "Kid, you're Kouta Fujiki."

He seemed to be asking a question, but his tone already conveyed certainty.

When Kouta saw the three people surrounding him, he knew something was wrong and he tensed up instantly. However, he also knew that it was too late to run away at this point.

We can only wait and see.

At the same time, Kouta was also very curious as to why these three people, who were obviously involved in organized crime, would come looking for him.

Now, it's clear that the eldest of the three is asking a question.

Kouta replied without flinching, "Ah, it's me. What's wrong?"

The man in the middle looked Kouta up and down and then ordered, "Come with me."

After the man finished speaking, he walked ahead to lead the way, while the two people beside him flanked Kouta on either side to prevent him from escaping. Seeing this, Kouta had no choice but to follow.

Finally, the man led Kouta to a deep alleyway near Misaki High School.

The man only stopped after he was sure he had reached a deserted area.

"Where is my brother?" the tattooed man asked calmly as he turned his head, but his eyes were filled with cruelty, as if he would take action if Kouta's answer did not satisfy him.

"Your brother? Who is your brother?"

Upon hearing this question, Kouta immediately knew that the person in front of him must be Yamamura Hayato, Yamamura Jeff's gangster cousin.

Kouta immediately tensed up, his brain racing as he began to think of a solution.

'We absolutely cannot admit it.'

'We absolutely mustn't give ourselves away.'

'I can only pretend I don't know.'

Judging from this situation, it seems like I'll be...

······

Kouta knew he couldn't possibly defeat three people, and his heart clenched.

However, what he didn't know was that under his extreme tension, his body was also like a fighter jet engine that had been ignited, running wildly.

"Kid! How dare you talk to our boss like that?"

The blond-haired man spoke viciously, taking a step forward with his left foot, slightly twisting his waist, and releasing adrenaline. His body was like a powder keg about to explode. His right shoulder flexed and extended, and a nerve signal from his brain, like the fuse of a firecracker, first ignited the biceps brachii on the inside of his arm, then triggered a chain reaction, instantly activating a series of muscle groups in his right arm, including the deltoid, brachialis, biceps brachii, brachioradialis, and flexor carpi brachii. His entire right arm tensed to its limit in an instant, and then he suddenly released the force, his right arm becoming like a whip, the palm slapping down on Kouta's head with a "whoosh~~" sound.

Thugs are always ruthless when they beat people; there's absolutely no question of holding back, let alone avoiding or being afraid of killing someone.

This blond-haired youth's attack at such close range was intended to slap Geng Tai so hard that it would at least swell half of his face.

however,

Right now,

Kouta's already tense body began to feel strange sensations.

He felt no sense of crisis whatsoever about the slap that was aimed at him.

And as he watched the blond-haired man slap him, an absurd thought popped into his head: "So slow, so light, so soft, like a baby waving its arms."

Kouta was unaware that he was watching the slap coming from the other person in slow motion, as if he were watching each frame in slow motion. It was so unusual that an ordinary person could not possibly do such a thing.

"puff!"

Based solely on what he saw, Kouta accurately raised his right hand and grabbed the blond-haired youth's wrist when the palm was only a centimeter away from his cheek.

However, to outsiders, this scene appeared to be Kouta "luckily" grabbing the blond-haired youth's wrist.

"you!"

When Huang Mao saw this, he felt insulted that a high school kid had grabbed his arm.

"You dare to resist!" he roared fiercely at Kouta.

At the same time, his right wrist, which was being held by Kouta, struggled violently to break free from Kouta's grasp. However, as he struggled, he realized something was wrong.

Because... it hurts so much!

He felt as if his wrist was being clamped by wire cutters that could snap steel bars, and the bones in his wrist seemed to have been squeezed and deformed. The extreme pain from his bones made him struggle even more desperately and start screaming!

"Aww—ahhh—aww—..."

He went from verbally abusing her to yelling, "Let go! Let go now!..."

His tone was no longer as fierce as before, and the sense of threat was greatly reduced; instead, it was full of urgency.

The conflict between the blond youth and Kouta seemed to have lasted a long time, but in reality it was only a brief moment, at most a fraction of a second.

At this moment, the green-haired youth was unaware of the yellow-haired youth's pain. He looked at the yellow-haired youth with a mocking expression and said, "Ben Chuan, what are you doing? You can't even beat a high school kid!"

Upon hearing this voice, the blond-haired youth cried out as if he had heard a savior: "Momotani, come help me! Help me! My hand is going to break, break!"

The green-haired youth was somewhat surprised to see that the blond-haired man had come to him for help.

In his view, it was only when the blond-haired guy slapped him that the high school kid grabbed his wrist.

That's it.

He didn't believe that Huang Mao's hand was going to break.

No matter how strong a person is, it is impossible to crush another person's wrist with just the grip strength of their hand.

The green-haired youth thought that the yellow-haired man's screams were only because he was cowardly and couldn't even bear the slightest pain.

But how could he know that Huang Mao's feeling was real, and that cracks were indeed starting to appear in the bones of his wrist?

At this point, Kouta could hardly be considered an ordinary person.

A master of innate talent spared no expense, expending his own true energy to cleanse his marrow and refine his essence. Even the emperor in the Xia Dynasty wouldn't have received such treatment.

It should be noted that even though Hui could use the Returning to the Underworld Battle Technique to refine other people's souls and generate true energy, Hui still devoured five souls within a week to satisfy Geng Tai's consumption. For a normal innate master, this would require several years of arduous cultivation.

Although the consumption was huge, the effect was also very significant.

Even though Kōta couldn't refine Qi into power, the tempering of his body by true Qi still allowed him to reach an inhuman level.

For example, right now.

The green-haired youth disdained the yellow-haired youth's cowardice and fear of pain.

However, no matter how much Huang Mao is considered one of their own, how could he be controlled by a high school kid?

"Kid, let go!"

Green Hair spoke menacingly, taking two steps closer to Kouta. When the two were less than half a meter apart, he clenched his right fist and slammed it into Kouta's temple from a tricky angle, his eyes flashing with ruthlessness.

He didn't care if hitting someone in the temple would kill them. As someone involved in organized crime, he knew that fights had to be ruthless. Even if he killed someone, at least it wouldn't be him who died.

Therefore, they usually target vital organs, such as the head, genitals, and eyes, using whatever ruthless methods they can.

The punch was very close to Kouta, and because it was a movement of the upper arm, it was even faster.

However, as Kouta looked at the unexpected punch, that feeling surged back into his heart: "So slow, why does this fist feel so loose and weak? And why do I feel like I could smash it to pieces with one punch..."

Kouta suddenly felt a strange sense of confidence. He loosened his grip on the wrist of the blond-haired man, which was visibly dented and blackened by internal bleeding. He clenched his fist tightly, and if you listened carefully, you could hear a sound like "crackling".

He met the green-haired youth's fist head-on with a punch.

Although Kouta had only a fraction of a second to react, to outsiders it seemed as if Kouta had pressed the fast-forward button. After completing this series of actions, he actually struck first, and his fist suddenly appeared in front of the green-haired youth's fist as if he had teleported in the air.

Then, they simply crushed it.

The two fists met in mid-air.

In an instant,

Kouta seemed to have entered a slow-motion time.

He saw his fist strike with unstoppable force.

He saw the green-haired youth's fist, first the epidermis, dermis, and subcutaneous tissue, then the impact of his own fist causing other tissues and muscles to be squeezed inward and torn apart.

Next comes the highly elastic subcutaneous tissues, such as the stratum corneum, stratum lucidum, stratum granulosum, and stratum basale. They try to deform and release the force, but are crushed into minced meat by the enormous impact and can never return to their original shape. The foamy soft tissue sprays out in all directions, and of course, there is plenty of scarlet blood in it.

Kouta even witnessed a tiny drop of blood, the size of a grain of rice, splatter onto the tip of his nose.

His fist continued its relentless assault, the opponent's knuckles cracking and shattering as if struck by a drill. First, the outer yellow bone marrow (fatty bone marrow) burst out, some of which even had oil droplets squeezed out under the immense pressure.

Finally, even the deepest part of the bone marrow, the red line-like hematopoietic bone marrow, disintegrated under Kōta's hammer-like fist.

After one punch.

The pungent smell of blood filled the air.

The green-haired youth had no idea what was happening; he simply punched Kouta in the temple, but less than a fraction of a second later…

He then saw that his right hand... was gone! ? ?

It's gone in the literal sense!

Ninety percent of his palm was gone; the wound looked as if it had been run over by an industrial steelmaking press.

The wound was a mixture of blood and flesh, especially the stark white bone exposed from the bloody, mangled cut, through which the red marrow could be seen.

After the effects of adrenaline end.

"Aww~~ Ahh ...