My Girlfriend is an Evil Woman

In the world of gaming, if killing equaled real-life murder, more than half of the Earth’s 7.7 billion population would probably face execution.

Within the virtual scenarios created by [Meditative Battle], Kitahara Hideji had decapitated numerous heads, eviscerated countless foes, and the vivid sensation of blood splattering within five feet was an everyday experience. However, those wandering swordsman adversaries weren’t real people, so Kitahara Hideji didn’t see anything wrong with it. Hence, when Fukuzawa Naotaka questioned him, he answered calmly, “No.”

“No?” Fukuzawa Naotaka didn’t entirely believe it. Just moments ago, when he tested Kitahara Hideji, even if someone had practiced martial arts, their instinctual reaction would typically involve rapid evasion or blocking. Yet, Kitahara Hideji, in that split second when he lost the initiative, almost instantly chose a strategy of trading blows for blows, exhibiting exceptional ferocity. This was nearly the optimal choice, and experience like this couldn’t be obtained from books.

The terror of life and death was immense, and without experiencing several trials of life and death, it was hard to imagine a young person having such instincts naturally.

Moreover, Fukuzawa Naotaka was familiar with Kitahara Hideji’s eyes from just moments ago. It was the gaze acquired only by shedding blood and taking lives—a look that could only be attained from having spilled blood before. This young man’s choice of attack was right on the human body’s vital points, without any hesitation or doubt, exuding indifference toward life, sending chills down one’s spine.

It seemed the pressure the bullies had put on this young man wasn’t enough; he still maintained control over his actions. However, lurking beneath the surface, he was exceptionally ferocious. Once his instincts kicked in, the subconscious urge to kill was substantial—a strange, almost unprecedented blend of rationality and ferocity.

“Indeed, there isn’t, Fukuzawa-san. I’m Your daughter’s classmate, sixteen years old, from West Saihaku District in Tottori Prefecture. I have no prior criminal record. You can verify this if you don’t believe me.” Kitahara Hideji was very composed. The original owner’s background was unquestionably clean, free of any misdeeds, and had no connection to crimes like murder.

Fukuzawa Naotaka lowered his head in thought for a moment. He felt like Kitahara Hideji wasn’t lying. After all, although the distance was great, these were easily verifiable facts. He would certainly ask friends to inquire, and the other person didn’t seem foolish enough to lie. Still, there were some things he couldn’t quite figure out. Dozens of delinquents could be defeated by a strong adult even with just a wooden sword. However, Kitahara Hideji was still young, and his muscles hadn’t fully developed. His strength wasn’t significant, and he hadn’t undergone combat training. If he made a mistake, it could end tragically. How could he achieve such a feat? Furthermore, where did he get the experience to handle a brawl? Where did he acquire that level of composure? It couldn’t be from reading books, and under great pressure, the stress response he exhibited couldn’t be faked. Even if someone had practiced Sword Technique, a normal person with no blood on their hands would instinctively avoid vital areas when attacking to prevent causing harm.

Faced with Fukuzawa Naotaka’s doubt, Kitahara Hideji scratched his head. Fukuzawa Naotaka was clearly becoming suspicious, and he might have harbored doubts earlier. Encountering the Ota Family’s situation only amplified those suspicions. Fukuzawa Naotaka, despite being a chef, didn’t seem like a simple person upon closer inspection. Just judging from the fierce aura he emitted when he tested Kitahara Hideji earlier, he might have had a history of doing unsavory things.

Seeing Fukuzawa Naotaka’s silence, Kitahara Hideji thought for a moment and said, “Fukuzawa-san, maybe it’s because I regularly engage in Meditative Battle training.” Facing someone as astute as Fukuzawa Naotaka, he knew he needed to be somewhat truthful. After all, Fukuzawa Naotaka was in his forties and not easy to deceive. If it wasn’t a last resort, he preferred not to let their relationship deteriorate too much.

“Meditative Battle? That’s the brain-training method promoted by Musashi Miyamoto, right?”

“Yes, it’s a self-taught Sword Technique. I lack guidance and sparring partners, so I often imagine battles with swordsmen from various schools during my Meditative Battle sessions. In Meditative Battle, it’s one-on-one,” Kitahara Hideji explained.

Kitahara Hideji continued to explain, “I’ve even done one-on-many battles. Currently, I can imagine being surrounded by up to eight opponents. You might not believe it, but I really enjoy Meditative Battle. It helps relieve academic stress for me. So, I’ve researched a lot and tried to make it as realistic as possible in my mind.”

“How realistic?” Fukuzawa Naotaka still had his doubts. While Meditative Battle wasn’t some secret technique, various schools had similar practices, and he had undergone related training himself. However, it was merely a rough simulation of the opponents’ moves based on experience.

Kitahara Hideji replied earnestly, “Realistic to the point where I can feel the warmth of an opponent’s blood splashing onto my face, realistic to the point where I can watch them take their last breath, realistic to the point where I wake up in a cold sweat after being stabbed. Maybe it’s some kind of talent I have, but my Meditative Battle seems to be especially effective.”

This was an absolute truth.

Listening to his words and observing his facial expressions carefully, Fukuzawa Naotaka tried to gauge the credibility of his story. Seeing Kitahara Hideji’s bright and unwavering eyes, full of sincerity, Fukuzawa Naotaka couldn’t help but believe him to some extent. To him, it often seemed that when something sounded too fake, it was more likely to be true. He muttered to himself, “Can a person with talent achieve such a level?”

Was his lack of knowledge or was this young man’s talent truly exceptional? He had self-learned Sword Technique for three years and defeated two girls in one day. Without any experience in a brawl, he remained remarkably calm during his first encounter with multiple opponents, almost achieving perfection.

“If we’re talking about Sword Technique alone, I might indeed have some talent. I’ve finished reading the book you gave me yesterday, ‘Ono Ittō-ryū Ougi Kai,’ and I gained a lot from it. I’m very grateful for your gift,” Kitahara Hideji felt the need to prove that he was a talented individual.

“You finished that book in one day?” Fukuzawa Naotaka’s expression turned surprised. “How much of the technique have you mastered?”

In essence, Kitahara Hideji was still a modest person. He had stretched his pride once, and that was enough. Now, seeing Fukuzawa Naotaka’s doubts diminishing, he immediately resumed his humility and said, “I have a basic understanding of most of it. I would say I’ve roughly grasped it.”

“Roughly grasped it?” Fukuzawa Naotaka repeated quietly. It was his creation from his younger days. While it couldn’t be considered a secret technique, it certainly wasn’t common knowledge. Even with exceptional talent, it would likely take one to two years of dedicated study. A person with talent this terrifying didn’t need practice and could jump into actual combat after just one night of reading?

He was initially feeling quite stable, but deep contemplation made Fukuzawa Naotaka somewhat unsteady. He reached out to steady himself against the wall, reflecting on Kitahara Hideji’s behavior and conduct at work. He appeared remarkably stable and reliable, much more composed than most people in their early twenties. It seemed his character was genuinely good. Fukuzawa Naotaka began to half-believe the story. After all, the depth of one’s skill in technique was usually apparent to the discerning eye, and it didn’t make sense to lie about something like that.

Coughing slightly, Fukuzawa Naotaka said, “Kitahara-kun, I hope you can come to work a bit earlier tomorrow. I want to see just how much you’ve ‘roughly grasped.'”

Seeing was believing, and if this young man was lying, he couldn’t let him stay close to his eldest daughter, not even at the same school. He had initially only wanted to do a small favor, but now, knowing the general circumstances, he had to get to the bottom of things. If Kitahara Hideji had a bad track record or a ruthless character, dealing with Fuyumi’s temper over the long term would be like a mouse provoking a cat—it was a path to disaster.

If that were indeed the case, Fukuzawa Naotaka would make arrangements to have Kitahara Hideji sent away, even if it meant spending money or using connections. He might help him transfer to a better school, preventing future trouble and gaining a favor at the same time.

Kitahara Hideji had never been a father himself, so he didn’t understand the complex thoughts of a father wanting to protect his daughter. He had no objections; he had just received a great favor. Besides, there wouldn’t be any consequences. He thought to himself, “I’m just a genius, is being a genius a crime?”

He nodded in agreement, saying, “Understood, Fukuzawa-san. I’ll arrive early tomorrow.” Then, he noticed that Fukuzawa Naotaka appeared somewhat fatigued. Concerned, he asked, “Fukuzawa-san, you seem tired. Should I escort you back for some rest?”

They had been standing outside the police station for quite some time. Kitahara Hideji felt it was time to leave. Fukuzawa Naotaka felt the gentle touch on his arm when Kitahara Hideji offered help. But when their hands made contact, he sensed the young man’s arm muscles spring back in a peculiar way, as if they lacked strength. Kitahara Hideji pretended not to notice, showing genuine concern as he asked, “Fukuzawa-san, you seem tired. Shall I escort you back for some rest?”

They had already spent quite a while waiting outside the police station, and Kitahara Hideji believed it was time to take his leave. However, Fukuzawa Naotaka glanced at Kitahara Hideji’s hand on his arm, then, after a brief silence, reverted to his usual genial demeanor and shook his head with a smile, saying, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Waiting for someone?”

“Yes, two friends. The notice was a bit hasty, and they might be a bit late. It might take a while, so if you have something to do, Kitahara-kun, you can go ahead. It’s not a problem.” Fukuzawa Naotaka didn’t provide many details. Kitahara Hideji assumed it was related to thanking some influential acquaintances, and in that case, he definitely couldn’t leave first. After all, he would be the ultimate beneficiary. He smiled and said, “Then, I’ll wait with you!”

“It’s really not necessary…” Fukuzawa Naotaka had just started to speak when a black F-Town Crown car roared around the corner, skidding to a halt right in front of them. Two tall, burly men jumped out of the car as the tires emitted a brief squeal from the sudden stop.

The two men glanced at Kitahara Hideji but didn’t pay him much mind. Instead, they both bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle toward Fukuzawa Naotaka and said, “Master, we apologize for being late.”

Fukuzawa Naotaka smiled and replied with a slight bow, “No need for apologies. I informed you on very short notice, and it’s me who’s troubled you this time.”

Kitahara Hideji also followed Fukuzawa Naotaka’s lead in returning the gesture, sparing a quick glance at the two men. As they bowed, a hint of a tattoo peeked out from behind their necks. With their hair styled in a typical Yakuza manner and dressed in unmarked black suits and white shirts, it was clear they were members of the Japanese underworld.

These two Yakuza didn’t pay much attention to Kitahara Hideji. After exchanging pleasantries, one of them turned to Fukuzawa Naotaka and asked with concern, “Master, what’s the hurry? Has something happened?”

Fukuzawa Naotaka responded with a gentle smile, “It’s nothing serious, just a small trouble. Sasaki-kun, I remember your territory is around here, right? Do you happen to know someone named Ota Tateyo?”

“I know of him, but we’re not close. I’ve seen him a few times at the casino. He’s not exactly a remarkable fellow. Has he offended you, Master? Do you want us to handle him?”

“No need for that. I just want to have a chat with him. I’m concerned that discussing matters might escalate into a bigger problem, so I’d like you to handle it.”

Sasaki waved his hand, and his companion went to open the car door. Sasaki lowered his voice and said, “Master, please don’t say it like that. You’ve taken care of us in the past, and we’ve always wanted to repay your kindness. Please don’t hesitate to ask for our help. We’re at your service!”

Both of these large men were extremely respectful and courteous. Fukuzawa Naotaka continued to be modest, saying, “You’re too kind, Sasaki-kun.” He then got into the car, but Kitahara Hideji attempted to follow. However, Fukuzawa Naotaka halted him with a friendly hand on his arm.

Smiling, he said, “Kitahara-kun, you’re still young. It’s better not to get involved in this sort of thing. When it’s over, I’ll give you a call. Please go home for now.”

Kitahara Hideji hesitated for a moment and replied in a low voice, “You don’t have to do this, Fukuzawa-san. I can handle it myself.”

Fukuzawa Naotaka gave a slight smile and said, “I understand, but Kitahara-kun, you’re still quite young. Dealing with this might be time-consuming and challenging for you. I, on the other hand, am getting on in years, and Ota will likely be more cooperative with me. It’s better to have a straightforward conversation in situations like these, and it won’t take much effort. So, don’t be too modest.”

With that, Fukuzawa Naotaka gently pushed Kitahara Hideji away, closed the car door, and waved through the window, signaling him to go home quickly.

Kitahara Hideji had no choice but to accept this. He couldn’t insist on joining them, especially when Fukuzawa Naotaka had shown so much goodwill. Even if Fukuzawa Naotaka harbored doubts about him, he still expressed kindness. Kitahara Hideji shook his head lightly and headed back to his apartment. In his mind, Fukuzawa Naotaka was indeed a cunning old fox, as even if he had doubts about Kitahara Hideji, he handled the situation with such finesse that even a reckless youngster, rather than him, would likely find it difficult to confront him.