My Girlfriend is an Evil Woman

If there was any adult acquaintance that Kitahara Hideji had in Nagoya, it would be Fukuzawa Naotaka. However, he wasn’t sure if Fukuzawa Naotaka would help him or not. After all, their relationship was only based on his part-time job there, and it wasn’t particularly deep.

If Fukuzawa Naotaka helped, it would be out of kindness, but if he didn’t, it would be understandable.

He made a call, and to his surprise, Fukuzawa Naotaka simply asked about the situation and told him to wait patiently. Then he hung up, not even offering any words of comfort. If it weren’t for a few coughs on the other end, Kitahara Hideji would have thought he had dialed the wrong number. In his impression, Fukuzawa Naotaka always acted and spoke slowly, like an elderly person in their twilight years. He hadn’t expected him to be so succinct this time.

Half an hour later, someone pushed open the door to the interrogation room and ordered, “Murakami, let the kid go!”

The female police officer was taken aback and turned to him in surprise, saying, “Senpai, there are two injured individuals at the hospital who are insisting they have severe headaches and need further observation by the doctor. The extent of their injuries hasn’t been determined in the medical report yet. Are we really letting him go now?”

This was against protocol. Even though it was clear that the Ota Family members were being difficult, according to the requirements, Kitahara Hideji was supposed to remain until the extent of the injuries had been fully assessed. If the injuries were deemed severe, temporary detention might be necessary.

“Never mind what’s happening at the hospital. The boss has given the order to release him.”

Kitahara Hideji was also somewhat surprised, but if he could leave, that was certainly for the best. He extended his hand, indicating to Murakami, the female police officer, that she should unlock his handcuffs. Murakami found the situation peculiar, but if it was a direct order from her superior, she had to comply. She hesitantly fumbled for her keys—she knew that her sense of confusion wouldn’t be of any use. She was just a rookie officer, and that’s why she had been assigned to handle such trivial public security cases.

Kitahara Hideji was a person involved in a public security case, not a suspect in a criminal case, let alone a fugitive with a bounty on his head. After the handcuffs were removed, nobody paid him any further attention, allowing him to leave on his own. He walked into the lobby of the police station and spotted Fukuzawa Naotaka, who was casually sipping from a small bottle of alcohol as he waited. He looked quite content and unrushed.

Kitahara Hideji approached quickly, bowing his head apologetically. “Fukuzawa-san, I’m truly sorry to have caused you trouble.”

This was the prime operating time for Junmi-ya, and considering that the head chef was absent, they probably had to close for business. Just the fact that he was released at this time was already a significant favor, not to mention the fact that he had been released directly. Fukuzawa Naotaka must have pulled some strings to make it happen.

Fukuzawa Naotaka smiled warmly, not bothered by it at all. He extended the flat bottle towards Kitahara Hideji and asked with a smile, “Kitahara-kun, would you like a sip to calm your nerves?”

Kitahara Hideji stared at the bottle dumbfounded for a moment. In Japan, the legal drinking age is twenty. Handing a sixteen-year-old alcohol in a police station—was that really a good idea? What if I end up back inside after just getting out? Today, the restaurant can’t open, and that little carrot top is probably already throwing a fit at home. If I end up back in, will the little carrot top stop playing with me so recklessly with his siblings?

He quickly declined, and Fukuzawa Naotaka didn’t mind at all. He took another sip himself, walking alongside Kitahara Hideji as they headed out. He smiled and said, “Your phone call did catch me off guard. I never expected someone as composed as Kitahara-kun to be brought into the police station.”

Kitahara Hideji felt a bit embarrassed and apologized again, “I’m sorry.”

Fukuzawa Naotaka laughed, though he soon coughed a few times. He took another sip of his drink, seemingly more at ease, and continued, “Don’t worry about it. I got the details. While your actions were a bit impulsive, it can’t be entirely blamed on Kitahara-kun. As a man, it’s a responsibility to stand up and protect those around you.”

“Thank you for understanding!” They were already walking out of the police station as they conversed. Kitahara Hideji looked back and curiously asked in a hushed tone, “Did you pull some strings through acquaintances?” He had initially only intended to ask Fukuzawa Naotaka for help in finding a competent underage rights lawyer. He hadn’t expected Fukuzawa Naotaka to act so directly and get him out first.

Fukuzawa Naotaka chuckled self-deprecatingly, “After all, I was born and raised here. Being a local has its advantages. When one acquaintance asks another, there’s usually some connection to be found. If you had committed murder, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to help. But a mere scuffle doesn’t count as a big deal.”

“Thank you so much, Fukuzawa-san!” Kitahara Hideji could only express his gratitude once again. This was yet another significant favor.

Fukuzawa Naotaka stood at the entrance of the police station and smiled, “This is nothing, Kitahara-kun. Everyone faces difficulties in life. If I can help, I will. The more friends you have, the more paths you’ll have, but the more enemies you have, the more walls you’ll encounter. This is my life motto, and I share it with you. However…”

As he spoke, Fukuzawa Naotaka’s voice trailed off slightly, as if he was struggling to find the right words.

Kitahara Hideji whispered, “Fukuzawa-san, please feel free to speak your mind.”

Fukuzawa Naotaka chuckled softly and then continued in a gentle tone, “What I’m about to say might not sound very pleasant—have you heard the saying that a good swimmer can drown?”

Kitahara Hideji nodded. “Yes, I’m familiar with it.”

Fukuzawa Naotaka’s smile faded a bit as he continued, “In my lifetime, I’ve encountered many practitioners of Sword Technique. Most of them have ended up on the path of aggression and recklessness. They either died or became severely disabled. Very few of them have had a peaceful end. So, when I received your call this evening, I was genuinely surprised. I thought perhaps I had misjudged you, and I regretted giving you those two books. It wasn’t until I understood the true situation that I felt some relief, but my curiosity was piqued…”

“Curiosity about what?”

“If Kitahara-kun had defeated an adult in a fair Kendo match, I wouldn’t find it strange. Three or four adults would also be within reason, Yukari can achieve that as well. However, Kitahara-kun, armed with a wooden sword, faced over ten individuals attacking him. In that narrow hallway, he rendered all those adults defenseless without causing severe harm. Not only did he come out unscathed, but he also managed to control the situation, limiting the injuries to minor ones. It’s a bit puzzling… Competitive sports and street brawls are entirely different. Merely reading some books and practicing for a few years, can one achieve such a level without real-life experience?” Fukuzawa Naotaka’s smile vanished as he gazed at the distant lights and sighed softly. “Kitahara-kun’s composure, courage, and innate talent have left me somewhat astonished.”

Kitahara Hideji was taken aback for a moment. He did have experience, but he couldn’t explain how he gained it. Moreover, during the brawl, he had frequently used his skill [Foreseeing] to assess the situation, adapt to his surroundings, and successfully avoid multiple crises. However, he couldn’t reveal this.

He struggled to find a suitable response and finally managed, “The opponents were just small-time thugs.”

“Indeed! The opponents were just a group with numbers, and their individual strength wouldn’t be impressive to someone like us,”

Fukuzawa Naotaka affirmed his statement. He then tilted his head and glanced at both sides of the road before casually continuing, “I’ve briefly reviewed the police investigation report. Based on the situation at the time, if Kitahara-kun had been wielding a sharp blade, there wouldn’t be much to discuss.

If Kitahara-kun truly had the intent to kill, those individuals likely wouldn’t have even made it to the second floor before being completely eliminated. Ancient Swordsmanship, developed over a thousand years, is geared towards swift and lethal strikes. The difference between practicing it and not practicing it is something ordinary people can’t fully comprehend, but you should understand. However, Kitahara-kun had a wooden sword, which complicates matters.

As I came here, I simulated the scenario in my mind multiple times. After careful consideration, given your physical capabilities, it’s quite difficult to imagine how you managed it. Did you make no mistakes at all? With a wooden sword that has minimal cutting power, each strike rendering your enemies temporarily incapacitated? Without being cornered or held, constantly moving amidst chaos, always facing the fewest opponents, inflicting severe injuries on them while barely getting a scratch yourself?”

“I don’t know how I did it, perhaps luck…”

Fukuzawa Naotaka slightly turned his body, nodded ever so slightly, and seemed to ask himself, “Luck? Is it luck or skill?” As he spoke, his body suddenly emitted an intense aura of hostility. Without warning, he twisted his waist, generating force from his lower body, and his palm transformed into a lightning-fast strike aimed diagonally at Kitahara Hideji’s neck.

Describing the intense aura of hostility is difficult with words. It’s an instinctual feeling, a sense that the other person could harm you at any moment, even take your life. It’s akin to the primal fear humans felt when facing fierce beasts in ancient times. Kitahara Hideji never expected that after conversing so normally, Fukuzawa Naotaka, this middle-aged man, would suddenly launch a surprise attack. A shiver of fear surged from deep within him, and for a moment, it felt like he was back in a Meditative Battle, facing those cold-hearted wandering swordsmen.

He felt as if his neck was about to be severed!

Although he didn’t have a sword in hand and couldn’t activate the [Foreseeing] skill from [Ancient Swordsmanship], Kitahara Hideji instinctively counterattacked. He struck with a palm thrust from below, aiming for Fukuzawa Naotaka’s jaw. Caught off guard by the ambush, he was at a disadvantage, having lost the initiative. He could only strive for mutual injury, which was still better than being defenseless and allowing Fukuzawa Naotaka to follow up with another attack.

Both individuals moved swiftly, but Fukuzawa Naotaka had already been prepared. He withdrew his hand and stepped back several paces to evade Kitahara Hideji’s attack. He didn’t make any further moves; instead, he kept his gaze fixed on Kitahara Hideji, observing as the fierce intent in his eyes gradually subsided…

This sudden burst of action wasn’t well-suited for Fukuzawa Naotaka’s condition. He stood there, swaying slightly, his face turning slightly flushed. He didn’t appear to be in the best health; instead, he seemed somewhat like he was experiencing a temporary resurgence of vitality. Nevertheless, he continued to stare intently. After a while, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and muttered, “This familiar gaze…”

Kitahara Hideji understood that Fukuzawa Naotaka had merely been testing him. He stood still, uncertain about Fukuzawa Naotaka’s intentions.

After standing with his eyes closed for a considerable time, Fukuzawa Naotaka opened his eyes and gazed at Kitahara Hideji with a serious expression. He asked, “Has something happened to Kitahara-kun in the past? Have you… killed someone?”

Kitahara Hideji raised an eyebrow, not quite grasping where Fukuzawa Naotaka’s thoughts were going. What killing? Would fighting in a Meditative Battle be considered killing?