Whitewash High: Rising Sun Ch. 12

"Right here, the same spot you missed, I'll get your slut girlfriend to lick me later when she learns I put the boots to her sissy boyfriend," the Osaka gangster taunted.

Immediately Nik's eyes glazed over in anger. The comment instantly triggered the demon inside him. All the memories flooded his mind's eye, provoking him, taunting him, testing him.

SMASH!

With a sudden strike he turned and punched through the car window, slicing up his hand. Blood poured from it as he clenched it in front of his enemy. The veins along his fist pulsated, flooding skin with fresh crimson. The dress shirt Nik wore stained red, ruined from the angry blow.

"What, you going to go Super Saiyan? Newsflash, you stupid otaku, Goku is fake," Fatty started laughing.

Nik's muscular chest heaved up and down slowly, sucking in increasing amounts of air as the rage flowed through his veins. His fist turned white under the masking crimson, as he clenched the fist tighter. Finger nails began digging into the skin, piercing flesh. Pain did not register during the rage haze.

"Hey Slim, get over here and keep the 'Saiyan' company. Daisuke won't bore me. Oh boys, leave Daisuke for me now," Fatty ordered, turning his back to Nik. "My boys leave anything fo...OR!"

CRASH!

The fighting suddenly stopped. No one spoke. Every combatant looked on at the stunning scene in front of their eyes. Fatty weighed close to four hundred pounds of fat. The only muscle he mustered on his frame came about from the body trying to survive lugging around all that weight. Nik had pounced the moment Fatty turned his back, giving him one magical opening. He grasped Fatty by the waist and yelled out in anger, using every ounce of lower body power to German suplex the gigantic man. No technique, all brute strength lifted the girth into the air and slammed it over his head.

Fatty lay out on the ground, completely unconscious from the head trauma. Nik crouched down, winded from the exertion. Slim ran at him, coming to the aid of his superior. The thinner gang leader met a powerful clothesline. He flew through the air with a spin, flatlining on the ground face first.

Both Osaka leaders were down and out in two moves. Nik turned the tide, giving the Yamato guys renewed vigor and a morale boost to keep fighting. Conversely, the various Osaka members began to shake, not understanding what they just saw. A demon had arisen to smite their leaders. The more experienced yakuza stood their ground, shaken, but continued brawling. The rookies and cowards buckled and ran to their cars, afraid to be the next to eat dirt in the most brutal fashion they had ever seen.

The numbers evened up, and the morale boost gave extra resolve to those on the verge of tapping out. Nik could see it but the rage haze did not allow the approving nod from Daisuke to register. A couple more bold Osaka goons broke through the line to take a swing at Nik. Tanking a punch, Nik followed through by grabbing the man's face with his hand and then swept a leg. As the man fell flat on the ground, Nik spun around kicking the other man on the thigh. Once dropped to a knee, a follow-up punch finished the job. Four 'kills' penned themselves on his first battle log.

He stayed next to the car, hopped up on adrenaline. His eyes darted from side to side, ready to pounce on anyone dumb enough to break through the line again. None did, however, as the Osaka goons wavered and broke. A few began dragging away and helped carry their buddies back to the cars. This signalled others to do the same, and one by one the numbers dwindled until those still fighting put up their hands in surrender and backed off as well.

Daisuke pointed to a couple of the retreating goons.

"Come get your bosses and get out of here. That is one win for us tonight!" he shouted in celebration.

Those still standing gave out a shout in unison. The men were bloodied, bruised, cut, and their clothing ripped. Anyone arrogant enough to come wearing a suit regretted it as no one came out of this clean or damage free.

Walking up to Nik, Daisuke took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his face.

"I think I earned my pay for the month. Not bad for your first rumble, although the rage-out took me by surprise," Daisuke commented. "For a moment I thought you were a New Japan star, throwing that clothesline."

"Instinct, my arms moved on their own," Nik replied, feeling the adrenaline escape his system. "Is it over?"

"Most likely, depending on how the other fights are going. Maybe these guys will come back for a second round, maybe not. We held the line."

Nik sat down against the car, looking on as the Osaka cars began driving away one by one. He felt tired, ready to pass out from adrenalin leaving his body and blood loss. He only now registered his bleeding fist. While opening his mouth to ask Daisuke a question, he tore a sleeve off to create a make-shift bandage.

"What kind of establishment do you run, Daisuke?"

"They have me run a club, swanky joint for those of refined tastes. I'm too old to be hanging around the host crowd, and too ugly. Come by sometime and I'll treat you. I do not think we'd have been able to take down Fatty once he broke through."

"Musashi skipped the intricate details but where is everyone else?" Nik asked.

"There are five other hot spots around the city. A lot of the clans are involved. If Yamato-sama chose to not oversee his own car that aggressively, it must mean somewhere else is higher priority or one of the other clans is pulling rank. He cannot fight but he could still direct and coordinate."

Nik nodded, watching Fatty and Slim get into the last car. Fatty still clutched his head, woozy, as he fell into the back seat.

"You need a ride back to your bar when this is all done?"

"I don't think Yamato-sama would be happy if someone drove his car. We can wait here until he comes and picks it up," Daisuke replied.

"It is my car now, got it as a reward."

Daisuke took a seat next to Nik, shaking his head.

"Rumors are true, you really are the golden boy. What did you do to get Yamato-sama to treat you so good?"

"Long story, one I do not want to talk about," Nik winced, tying the bandage.

The white cloth immediately turned red, soaking up all the liquid it could handle.

"I get it, everyone has their secrets. Take some strangerly advice from someone who has been in the life as long as me. Don't flaunt it. Some of these guys can only hope to run a bar or brothel. Most will be stuck pimping and collecting on the streets. The brighter you shine, the easier the target for the knife. Loyalty is cheaper than thirty pieces of silver."

"Musashi has your loyalty?"

"I'm too old to turncoat, and like I told you, I have no interest in shining bright. I slit your throat and an inferno illuminates my life, not the sun."

"I'll come back for the car."

Daisuke laughed at the comment, and the pair looked on and waited to see if Osaka would send anymore soldiers their way.

X

Musashi and Ryuji arrived sometime later to pick up Nik and the car. They stood there, looking at the huge dents in the side of the expensive vehicle. Musashi could only shake his head in disbelief and amazement at how much damage it endured during the fight.

"I hope you know how to drive better than this..."

"At least Osaka won't care about getting the car back," Ryuji added.