“Mm?”
Nakata Yuji stared weirdly at Nobuo some distance away. That unknown warrior definitely spoke Korean, didn’t he?
Someone speaking Korean in the gathering of Japanese warriors? Nakata Yuji smirked softly at that.
There was nothing to be surprised about here. After all, weren’t the two men right next to him also Korean?
“Is he a Korean-Japanese?” Nakata Yuji narrowed his eyes.
Everyone knew that a sizable number of Yakuza members were Korean-Japanese. It was just that no one openly talked about it. This situation wasn't all that surprising, considering that targets of discrimination like them were easy prey to the allure of the criminal lifestyle.
The martial world was obviously somewhat different from the criminal underworld, but the situation was more or less similar.
The renowned warrior clans and families had formed the central pillars of Japanese martial society since the Warring States period. But it was impossible to fill the ranks of grunts with famed warriors. As such, meat shields were always in demand, and the discriminated Korean-Japanese thirsting for better things in life were perfect for that role.
Of course, with their bloodline being what it was, they’d never climb high enough in the hierarchy. However, they seemed to have already tempered their expectations in that regard, anyway.
This situation was only possible after the Korean-Japanese’s desire to achieve moderate levels of success they could flaunt in society perfectly aligned with the martial world’s desire to find useful pawns.
“M-Mister Yuji!”
Nakata Yuji heard someone call his name and turned his head to look, only to frown slightly after spotting a figure of an unknown man rushing toward him.
This man stopped before Nakata Yuji and hurriedly introduced himself. “I’m Motobe from Eihana-kai.”
Nakata Yuji silently nodded. In his mind, however...
‘Who cares what your name is?’
Nakata Yuji had never heard of this guy before. Still, this man should be a high-ranking individual from his territory, considering how he recognized Nakata Yuji and paid respect like this.
“My sincerest apologies, sir! This idiot is from our group.” Motobe bowed deeply while grabbing the back of Nobuo’s head and forcing the latter to bow as well.
Nobuo took the hint and cried out, “My sincerest apologies!”
“...Yes, yes. I understand you’re sincere,” Nakata Yuji groaned. “I’m not the type to lose my temper at someone muttering to themselves.”
Motobe kept his head down. “Thank you for your generosity.”
“Hold on, hold on... What happened to my public image for this kind of misunderstanding to develop?” Nakata Yuji frowned and shook his head.
Kim Seok-Il observed this exchange in silence before smirking deeply. “Why do you act like people are wrong about you? When they have the right idea?”
“I’d much prefer if you keep your mouth shut. Keeping a pair of bastards alive when they are no longer useful is already testing my patience, you see?”
“Hah. You still want to talk about your image and whatnot after mouthing off crap like that? This is why you smelly Jap bastards are no good.”
“...” Nakata Yuji was forced into shaking his head in silence.
Very few things in this world were as troublesome as dealing with a man with nothing to lose.
Nakata Yuji was allowing Kim Seok-Il's insolence for a simple reason. Killing this cripple was as easy as drinking water, but death wouldn't have terrified or tormented Kim Seok-Il. At least, that was the impression Nakata Yuji got.
Kim Seok-Il was already experiencing a living Hell. So, the prospect of going to the netherworld wouldn't faze him much. Actually, it'd give him the respite he desired. And Nakata Yuji saw no reason to help the cripple find that eternal rest.
Then again, maybe Kim Seok-Il had been thinking of something similar, too. His suffering must be torturous enough to desire an immediate end to his existence, but his intense hatred of Kang Jin-Ho kept him going. He must be desperately resisting the urge to bite his tongue and kill himself right this second.
Kim Seok-Il's continuous jabs at other people designed to rouse hostile reactions from them must be born out of his pitiful state. He couldn't kill himself, but he'd have 'no choice' but to accept his fate if someone else killed him.
‘In that case, I will not be the one to liberate you from your misery.’
Nakata Yuji smiled wryly while looking away. “We don’t have a problem here, so you can go... No, hold on.”
Nakata Yuji suddenly studied Nobuo in genuine interest before addressing the latter. “Fella, what’s your name?”
“Sir, it’s Nobuo.”
“I see. Nobuo... Nobuo, is it?” Nakata Yuji casually gestured at Motobe with his chin. “Please excuse us while I speak to Nobuo.”
“B-but...?”
“Please. Humor us.”
Motobe nodded, his expression one of unease. He was responsible for all the Eihana-kai members currently in this place.
In return for granting power over the members, the clan expected Motobe to... Nay, it demanded responsibility from Motobe. So, if something untoward happened after handing Nobuo over to Nakata Yuji... The blame would solely land on Motobe's shoulders.
Unfortunately, Motobe knew he had no power to reject Nakata Yuji’s “polite” request.
“Understood. Well, then...” Motobe nodded slightly and backed away.
Nobuo swallowed his saliva nervously at the sight of Motobe walking away.
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