Chapter 56: Learning in Practice

—Lately, it seems that Yuki has been plagued by terrible luck.

This is the current consensus among everyone at Aegis.

If “fortune” truly exists, then Yuki’s fate must be particularly bleak these days. He’s like a magnet for strange incidents and unlikely events—barely a month has passed, and he’s already landed himself in the hospital several times.

So when they watched Yuki’s departing figure leave Aegis, they couldn’t help but suspect that there would be trouble today.

Takashi Soya and Merika had both been keeping watch for a long time—one sitting in the car, the other at the computer. As expected, they soon received an emergency signal from Yuki.

Soya slammed his foot down on the accelerator, while Merika guided him through the chase, navigating every twist and turn. The labyrinthine roads of the industrial district weren’t even on the standard public navigation maps, so Merika had no choice but to access satellite imaging for the area, combining it with Soya’s real-time location to steer him straight to the scene of the pursuit.

Soya dashed across the rooftops in a direct line, quickly spotting the one being chased on the ground—a familiar face.

Walker—back when Soya was just a local thug, Walker had been his eager sidekick, always calling him “big bro.” After their gang disbanded, the members scattered, and Walker lost touch with his beloved Soya. Who would have thought that, after so many years, their reunion would come under such circumstances?

At that moment, Uncle Oda, panting for breath, caught up as well. He instantly spotted the faint orange glow of the Little Black King’s egg in the dim alley and rushed over to retrieve it.

Meanwhile, the two robbers who’d been watching saw their victim chasing after them, hoping to reclaim his stolen property, and finally sprang into action.

They didn’t care much about Walker—he was just the initiator, the one who’d brought them along for the robbery, promising that they’d all strike it rich together. Compared to Walker, they cared far more about the raw jade ore they’d managed to get their hands on.

Exchanging a glance, they split up—one moved to block the breathless, frail-looking painter, while the other lunged for the “jade ore.”

Boom—

The very next instant, the robber trying to block Uncle Oda—one of the petty thugs—was sent flying into the wall by a single punch from the supposedly frail painter.

The thug embedded himself in the wall in a spread-eagle position, bricks and plaster raining down as he slid to the ground. Yuki shrank his neck, recalling that famous, self-effacing line often spoken on the sets of Ultraman:

I’m just a painter… or something like that.

Uncle Oda held his punching stance, his eyes distant, as if savoring the moment. After a few seconds, he finished reliving the blow, then turned to glare at the other robber who was about to tuck the Little Black King into his chest.

There was a strange, hopeful light in Oda’s eyes—a glint that sent a chill down the robber’s spine. But with the “jade ore” already in his grasp, how could he let this prize slip away?

Uncle Oda took a step forward, his aura suddenly oppressive, enveloping the robber in an atmosphere of imminent danger. Terrified, the robber stumbled back—he had no desire to be plastered into the wall as well!

Muttering a string of incoherent noises, he dropped the “jade ore” and bolted at full speed.

Yet the path he chose for his escape led him straight toward Yuki, perhaps thinking that, aside from his quick reflexes, Yuki posed no threat at all. As he passed by, Yuki grabbed him by the collar, swept his own foot out, and sent the clueless thug flying with an over-the-shoulder throw.

The robber’s world spun upside down—one moment he was running, the next he was slammed hard against a brick wall, crashing down beside his wall-embedded companion. Yuki’s strength, though, was not quite on par with Uncle Oda’s—the man didn’t end up stuck in the wall, but instead slid down to the ground, completely incapacitated.

A cold gleam flickered in Uncle Oda’s eyes. He no longer glanced at the unfortunate soul Yuki had dispatched, but fixed his gaze on the man pinned beneath Soya.

That must be…the ringleader.

Just as Uncle Oda was about to walk over, Yuki appeared at his side, lowering his voice: “How do you feel, Uncle Oda? Any better?”

Like a bucket of icy water poured from head to toe, Oda abruptly came to his senses, nodded sheepishly—and, truth be told, it felt wonderful.

Meanwhile, Walker was already begging for mercy—not nearly as bold as he’d been in the original story when tying up his “big bro” Soya. Now he was groveling, singing a woeful tune in hopes of leniency.

“You committed this robbery just to sell off the loot and donate the proceeds so the alien children could have a school?”

Soya’s expression grew subtly complicated at this explanation, and Yuki’s gaze sharpened.

In the original story, Walker was doomed—at death’s door, a man’s last words are often virtuous. He’d handed over the stolen goods to Soya, asking him to sell them and use the money to build a school for the alien children. Since money meant nothing to a dying man, it made sense to donate it to a worthy cause.

But now, with no threat of death looming over him, this excuse was…hard to believe.

Soya certainly didn’t buy it from his former sidekick. He stood up from Walker’s body and glanced at Walker’s two now-unconscious accomplices sprawled on the ground.

The unfortunate one embedded in the wall had already been pried out by Yuki and Uncle Oda working together. Yuki was still marveling at Uncle Oda’s strength, heaping praise that made Oda blush.

“So this is what you told them? That you were breaking and entering, robbing people just to raise money for charity, and you’d donate everything afterward?”

Walker hadn’t even nodded before Soya laughed in exasperation: “Do you think I don’t know where you come from? You’re just a fringe member of the Villains’ League. Is that what you wrote in your dark web recruitment post?”

Committing crimes for charity? Even if you truly believed that, none of those villains on the dark web would have responded.

What interested them was the prospect of splitting the loot.

So what, Walker? Are you a pure, unsullied lotus blooming among this crowd of pitch-black scoundrels?

Walker’s face went pale.

Seeing his reaction, Soya continued, “I may not have a dark web account, and I don’t know exactly what you wrote in your recruitment post. But let’s take it a step further—even if the stolen money was used for charity, donations don’t reduce criminal sentencing. Do you understand?”

That was a detail Soya had reviewed today in his legal studies—and here he was, putting it to good use.