Me and Rio had arrived at Kwon Fu's office.

The two of us stand a short distance from the main gate and look up at the building.

It is a simple, two-story office. That in itself is within common sense.

But the concrete walls surrounding the perimeter claim unnecessary defense for the cat man.

It's a noisy foreign object, screwed into a quiet residential area.

Just a little bit like the dungeon and the air.

It is the work of the brave to attack these dangerous establishments.

You want to do it?

As I move forward in front of the gate, I gooper my hands for spiritual unity before the assault.

Next to me like that, I follow you flat, Rio.

Hey.

"I can't tolerate anything more, no matter how much. Wait outside, please."

"Why? I'm fine with blood and stuff. Or do you mean the woman should stay back? Not old?"

"You're not old or new."

"I can bite enough if I have to, and now you're invisible from others, right? Then you'll be fine."

It doesn't matter if you see Rio or not.

The opponent is extreme. If you have a gun, a stray bullet could hit Rio.

I'm saying it for your sake, why don't you understand?

Don't make me take any extra time, it makes my tone rough.

"Shut up and wait outside! Listen to the grown-ups!

Because of the pre-fight, I seem to be a little concerned, too.

Too much sight from the top? Are you mad?

When I asked softly about Rio's complexion, for some reason he was turning red and shivering. He even looked happy.

"Yes."

and a strangely tall voice replies.

... Let's just say we didn't see it.

Most girls should have been irritating rhetoric, but I have a favorable response.

If a kicked ass dog shook his patty tail, he'd be more "rabid" than "cute guy"? "I think it comes first.

Well, it's only once. It's a no-can. No-can.

Rio must be temporarily emotionally unstable with his brother being exposed.

I want to think so. I want to think so, even if I'm not.

When I cough up and get back on my mind, I jump over the walls.

We're finally breaking into the office.

Consider that you should give them fear and uncover them.

The surveillance camera turned this way, so it unleashed the magic of a light ball.

The sound of the breaking of the balin and lens rings, and the white smoke is rising from the short circuit.

I wasn't afraid to see it. Rather the other way around.

They raised the werewolf smoke of the war against those who would be watching the footage.

He kicks through the windowsill and slowly moves to the back.

After all, will the punch perm men pop up in one hand with a pistol?

If I had such a retro imagination, two men came out from across the hallway.

Even though it's winter, it's shallow and sunburned, middle-aged man. Fat on the right, tail on the left.

Both look bad and dress rough.

The hairstyle, unfortunately, is not a punch perm.

"Hey brother. Is this supposed to be a cannonball?

Crouched voice. It is a metallic voice by the time it is unnatural to wither in age.

If you don't raise your voice on a daily basis, this isn't going to happen.

What a scene for Yakuza to scream at, blackmail would be the lord.

A non-Roku living creature affects both the face and the vocal cords.

"I'm looking for Kundo. Where?"

The answer to my query was straight to the face.

A man of the right width suddenly hit me.

Meow, I feel bad.

The fist that punched me must have crushed it by losing its hardness.

My defense is 45680. Harder than steel.

Whatever it is from the top of your clothes, punching you in the face immediately is suicidal.

"Take care of your hands. It's a business tool for Yakuza, isn't it? Although I would use it to pack my fingers."

"but... gu..."

The giant Yakuza nodded, holding down his right hand.

He shakes his shoulders and keeps leaking funny groans.

"... what? This guy."

A long-sleeved man took a pistol out of his pocket. Finally, the murder weapon is here.

I'm not interested in firearms. I don't know the details, but if I shoot something hard, there's a bounce or something?

"No. A weapon that assumes a human opponent doesn't work for me. You're the ones who get hurt."

"Are you planting something on your face?

Listen to people.

Bread and a dry shooting sound, a bullet shooting into my chest.

All of them bounced back in an unawares direction, hitting floors and ceilings.

The bullet seemed to have chosen a path through the shoulders and knees of the Yakuzas after they had bounced around drawing complex manoeuvres.

"Ghaaaaaa!

"... don't let yourselves get hit, even if I don't get my hands on it"

Ask the fallen tail man another question.

"Where's Kundo?

"... fuck you, you mess"

Unusual now, words return that make you feel Nintendo.

I don't think it's that easy to sell a parent. It's impressive.

Demons from different worlds have been talking about perplexing confidential information when things like this happen.

"I don't hate fellowship. That's the guts you looked up to. You don't want to be bad, so tell me where Kundo is."

"... If you have a family of women, I'll take them and shave them and drop them in the bath... they're shady whores for the rest of their lives... be prepared..."

"I was impressed, but you got the worst threat."

Thoughtfully stepping on a man's knees, crushing.

"Ahhh!

I'm very good at breaking plates. Chinese dishes at the ramen shop, as well as plates at the knee.

"I hate being targeted by people I care about. I wonder why. Because when you do that, you kill them more than you need to. I don't like myself when I'm being brutal."

"Ahhh....................................................................."

Close your fingertips to the nose of a man who opens his mouth and gets stuffy in pain.

Speak of the flaming magic Fire and light the flame at the tip of your nails.

"It's painful to get your eyes burned. Just say it. Where's Kundo?

……

"Turn up the fire a little."

"The president's office! He's in the president's office! Go ahead, turn left and there's a staircase. You'll see as soon as you get up there."

"Your mouth is finally turning. Did Kundo not bring in a boy about high school? He's blonde, full of piercings, he's a bad-eyed kid."

"... if you're that kid, you're with Mr. Kundo"

If you do, you can do it, and you take your finger off the man.

Continue the route taught and head to the president's office.

Along the way, a man with a dos thrust in, so when I hit him reflexively, he swept about a few meters straight up.

My head pierces the ceiling and hangs with Prapra.

I'm in a bad mood for a kid.

I hope he's not dead.

The power of resentment makes it a sunny day forever, because I don't like it when it has effects like that.

I walk up the stairs with my eyes on the avant-garde art of rocking ceilings.

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