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Is it Difficult to Use Stealth in Modern Japan? – Part 08

“Look, that’s Mr. Doyama’s mansion over there. He’s a bit of an eccentric old man who lives alone, but he’s a good person. Several housekeepers and gardeners take care of it, so the inside should be incredible.”

The term mansion used by the taxi driver was fitting. Trees peeked over the top of the long fence to shield the place from view.

“Wow, he really is a local celebrity.”

The taxi driver laughed. “Are you really a journalist? I thought you’d have done some research beforehand if you came to interview Mr. Doyama.”

“How rude! I’m a legitimate journalist. Look, here’s my business card! See?!”

Ayano Sasakura handed her Nitto Shimbun business card, along with the fare, to the taxi driver.

“H-Huh? I wasn’t seriously doubting you.”

The main entrance featured a wooden gate, which was closed, with a side gate and an intercom beside it.

After disembarking from the taxi, Ayano scrutinized the mansion again, but she couldn’t discern the interior from the outside.

“There’s an old man here who believes in protecting the mountain.”

Dressed in a casual attire, she carried an SLR camera slung across her shoulder—a journalist’s weapon.

“A-All right, shall I press the intercom? Ah, I’m so nervous! Why do journalists have to meet so many strangers anyway?! I hate it so much.”

Her words would have shocked her colleagues at Nitto Shimbun. She approached the intercom at the main gate.

“Hmm?”

The gate was slightly ajar. Did someone forget to close it?

“There’s a stone wedged in. Someone didn’t want the gate locked.”

Ayano sensed something odd, but instead of pressing the intercom directly, she chose to quietly open the gate and check the situation inside.

Perhaps it was her journalist’s instinct sensing trouble, or a desire to delay pressing the intercom by even a second, or maybe it was just a random decision.

“Excuse me,” she muttered softly, even when there was no need to.

“Who said you could come in without permission?!” a voice barked.

The only reason she didn’t shriek and blurt out an apology was because the voice came from a distance.

In front of her stretched a path leading to the mansion, a wide single-story, Japanese-style residence that exuded luxury. The entrance was about thirty meters ahead.

Azalea bushes lined both sides of the path, and up ahead lay a Japanese garden, where the voice came from.

On the veranda facing the garden stood an old man in a sweater, with neatly cut gray hair.

His sharp gaze was fixed on ten men gathered in the garden. One was dressed in a suit resembling a typical office worker, while the rest sported blond hair, shaved heads, tattoos, and an array of flashy accessories—clearly thugs.

Ayano speculated that the man in the office attire pretended to be an innocent visitor, opened the side gate, wedged the door with a stone, and ushered in the thugs.

“Mr. Doyama, have you finally decided to sell the land?” asked the man in the corporate attire.

“We’ll buy all the land you have in town for a substantial amount. Even the unused plots. What’s the issue?”

“Kijima, was it? Get out. My answer’s still the same.”

Despite Mr. Doyama’s shorter stature, he stood tall and straight, exuding energy. Even in the face of these unsavory characters, he maintained a firm demeanor.

“Come on. We came here to talk things out, but if you keep responding like this, we won’t make any progress.”

“There’s no need to talk things out. I said I’m not selling, and that’s final.”

“Do you want a higher price? You shouldn’t be too greedy.”

“You really don’t get it, huh? I keep telling you, it’s not about the money!”

“What you care about is the mountain, not the land in town, right? Why not just focus on protecting the mountain?”

These people also knew about Doyama’s obsession in protecting the mountain.

Doyama’s face turned red, and he exhaled sharply. “Your intentions, you scoundrels, are crystal clear. First, that plot of land over there, and then the next; you won’t stop until you’ve taken everything. If anyone’s greedy, it’s you. Who’s pulling the strings, huh? The mayor? A real estate agent? Or someone from the government?”

“The imagination of the elderly is truly something.” Kijima shrugged with a sly grin. “We just want to start a new business in Fujinota. What’s the point of an old man like you swaggering in this desolate town? Bringing in money from the outside, attracting young people, revitalizing the town—isn’t that all for the better? If old folks like you just hoard properties without doing anything with them, the town will slowly die, you know.”

“No matter what you say, my answer remains the same. I’m not selling.”

“Don’t you get it?! You’re causing trouble for a lot of people!” Kijima shouted impatiently. He was done talking politely.

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as the men advanced. Doyama braced himself. There was no one else here except the old man—no family, no servants.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Since you’re so attached to this moldy house, perhaps you’ll change your mind when it turns into a mess.”

“S-Stop!”

“Now’s your last chance to give up.”

Flustered, Doyama grunted, but refrained from saying yes. The men sprang into action. Just as they were about to lay hands on the plants in the garden, Ayano leaped out with her SLR camera in hand.

“I got the whole thing on camera!” she declared. “I’m a journalist from Nitto Shimbun! Your misdeeds end right now!”

“A journalist? Oh, shit. Get that camera!” Kijima ordered.

Two men closest to Ayano inched towards her.

“Huh? Wh-What are you doing?! That’s the company’s camera! I’m a journalist from the Nitto Shimbun. Look, here’s my business card. Do you think you’ll get away with laying your hands on me?!”

“Shut the hell up!”

After confiscating the camera, the men pushed Ayano, and she fell on her backside.

“Gyah!”

“Take her bag too! She might have recorded us with her phone.”

“Got it.”

“Stop!” Ayano jumped to her feet. “My clothes and wallet are in there!”

“Shut up!”

Ayano was pushed again, sending her rolling to the ground.

“G-Good luck explaining yourselves to the cops.”

“If the cops were coming, they’d be here already. You haven’t tipped them, haven’t you?”

“H-How did you know?!”

“Why would you admit that? Are you stupid?”

“Ah!”

“Consider this a warning, old man. We’ll drop by again tomorrow, and we expect a better response.” Kijima turned to the other men. “Break a few tree branches, then we’re out of here.”

“Roger that.”

“Guah?!”

As Kijima’s gang moved, one of the men suddenly collapsed.

“Wh-What happened?”

There was a rustle. They turned to the direction of the sound and spotted a boy who hadn’t been there until now.

“I didn’t quite follow the conversation, but I caught the last part of it. Roughing up a journalist is one thing, but destroying plants for no reason is unacceptable.”

He seemed like an average boy, maybe a bit more stylish for Fujinota, but the silver mask covering his face said he was far from ordinary.

Silver Face handed the SLR camera he retrieved from the men back to Ayano, who was still down on the ground.

“How can you be so reckless?”

“Why do you only care about plants?! Assaulting a journalist is unacceptable too, you know!”

“Don’t you dare record this, by the way. Or you’re gonna get it.”

Ignoring Ayano’s remarks, Hikaru distanced himself. The men shifted their focus to him.

“Little brat,” Kijima spat irritably. “What’s with the mask? Playing hero or something?”

Hikaru stretched out his right hand and made a beckoning gesture. “Let your skills do the talking, bozo.”

“You little shit!”

The men scattered, charging from the left, right, and front.

I see. They’re used to brawls.

Hikaru calmly analyzed the situation. He tried some cheap taunts to agitate them, but they didn’t charge recklessly. Instead, they spread out, making it difficult for Hikaru alone to handle them.

What’s more, they didn’t underestimate Hikaru just because he was a young boy. They were going all out. Hikaru guessed they were professionals.

“Hiyaaah!”

“Hah!”

“Hooohh!”

The first three charged from different directions.

In the next moment, the three men were astonished. The boy before them seemed to vanish into thin air. The power of Stealth.

“Ack!”

“Guu…”

“Ugh…”

He delivered a body blow to the first, a backhand to the second’s head, and a kick to the third’s back.

The others were momentarily stunned, and Silver Face did not miss the opportunity.

Toggling Stealth on and off, he systematically incapacitated each one, silencing eight in the blink of an eye. The first one he knocked out was still lying on the ground. Only Kijima remained.

“Wh-What the hell are you?! That was a team of brawlers I assembled!”

“Yeah, they did feel like pros.”

For Silver Face, who had faced life-and-death situations in another world numerous times, these opponents were nothing. These men couldn’t track him even when he activated Stealth before their eyes and in broad daylight. Whether it was due to the lack of a Soul Board or they were too awful as opponents, he didn’t know.

He didn’t feel the imposing presence of Ponsonia Kingdom’s Knight Commander Lawrence or the sharpness of Quinbrand Empire’s intelligence agent Kutsuwa.

“Brawlers, huh? I guess they’re not that good.”

“F-Fuck.”

Police car sirens sounded in the distance.

And so the men were arrested by the police. There were more assailants than expected, so the Y Prefectural Police had to call for reinforcements. The victims, Doyama and Ayano, were then subjected to police questioning.

“Was it dangerous?” Lavia asked.

Hikaru, having removed his mask, joined Lavia, who had been waiting outside to notify the authorities. Since they used Serika’s phone to call the cops, it should be fine even if they traced the call later. Members of the Four Eastern Stars were VIPs under the protection of the Japanese government.

Even if they had to undergo questioning later, Serika could handle it. Hikaru had decided to let Serika deal with all the trouble.

“Not at all,” Hikaru said. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll lose unless they pull out a gun or something.”

Put it another way, guns would be dangerous. It would be fine if he could dodge using Stealth, but if he took a hit, it could be fatal.

If he became a swordsman as good as Selyse, he might easily win even against a gun, but Hikaru had not reached her level yet.

“Anyway, let’s look for an inn,” Hikaru said. “I think there’s a famous hot spring nearby.”

“Okay!”

While Ayano was explaining all sorts of things at the police station, Hikaru and Lavia decided to take a leisurely break.